Quality is crucial for disability arts: Poor work fails artists and audiences
From
The Guardian in the UK:
An initiative for disabled artists, Unlimited, has announced bold shows including Liz Carr’s Assisted Suicide: The Musical (pictured) and Kaite O’Reilly’s Cosy. The aim is to stop venues programming ‘the first work they came across with a wheelchair and a guide dog in it.’
“Works of art which lack artistic quality have no force, no matter how progressive they are politically,” declared Mao Zedong,
and although I don’t often find myself in accord with the late Chinese
Communist leader, I reckon he was right in this instance. Great art
often has a social function, but not every piece of work made with a
social or political agenda turns out to be great art.
Purpose and artistic quality was an issue raised at Mind the Gap’s recent event in Bradford on learning disability performance,
where a range of international speakers and participants considered
issues around ownership, as well as quality and positioning in work made
by disabled artists.
Jez Colborne, a resident artist with Mind the Gap, spoke eloquently about owning his own work from initial idea through to its delivery, and Dennis Nilsson, an actor with Moomsteatern,
a learning disability company from Sweden, said that when he is on
stage he is not disabled, but an actor. David Amelot from French
learning disability company Compagnie de l’Oiseau-Mouche, said that performing allowed him to show that he was a “real actor not a monster”.
Moomsteatern apparently banned all political and social aims when it
was founded, arguing that they make and stage the work that they do for
the benefit of the audience, not the actors. It just so happens that
when the audience rate and love a show, it often means that there are
significant knock-on benefits for the performers too. Moomsteatern’s
artistic director Per Tornqvist spoke of the performers’ right to be on
stage and tell a story “that isn’t their own”. He views the Moomsteatern
ensemble simply as “actors like any other actors. Like all actors, they
have their own toolbox and you have to find what screw fits the
screwdriver.”
It was a fascinating day and a considerable advance on my experience last year at a Creative Minds event in Bristol when discussion of quality when applied to learning disabled theatre slipped entirely off the agenda. Here it was central. Matt Hargrave of the University of Northumbria quoted DV8’s Lloyd Newson
who has said that disabled art “has to be good or it demeans the art
form” and argued that quality work “combats social prejudice because the
person on stage is not seen as a burden but as an artist”. Jo Verrent
of Unlimited, the world’s largest commissioning programme for disabled artists which has just announced a new clutch of brilliant-sounding, ambitious commissions,
argued passionately that quality is crucial but alone it is not enough
and that the disability arts sector has to develop a range of work with
depth and breadth. The nine Unlimited commissions certainly demonstrate
that and include Noemi Lakmaier’s
Cherophobia, a 48-hour living installation in which an attempt will be
used to lift the artist’s body off the ground with 20,000 helium filled
party balloons, as well as Liz Carr’s Assisted Suicide: The Musical and Kaite O’Reilly’s Cosy, looking at our relationship to the medical profession.
The £3m, three-year Unlimited initiative aims to give venues a choice
of work and stop them from, as Verrent put it, “programming shit, and
the first piece of work that they came across with a wheelchair and a
guide dog in it”. Getting the right people to programme the right work
in the right situation is very much part of that, and Verrent says that
things have shifted significantly since 2012 when Unlimited started. The
point of Unlimited is not to build the “world’s most expensive ghetto”
but work that competes on a level playing field with every other piece
of art being produced in the UK.
But as Pádraig Naughton of Arts and Disability Ireland
pointed out, it’s not just a question of developing disabled artists
but also developing other advocates including disabled programmers,
curators and marketeers who can assist in widening audiences and help
institutions think differently about how and where they place work and
how they support it.
That could of course include encouraging critical coverage which is
currently very low for work made by disabled artists and particularly
low for learning disabled artists. Of course there are plenty of other
ways to validate work other than a review, but reviews do help raise
quality as does a culture of critical self-awareness. Reviewers will be
less likely to shy away from writing about work if they feel they can be
honest about what they’ve seen
and can review it not on the basis of the individual achievements of
those involved making the work, or its social value, but on its
aesthetics and whether the show sits proudly cheek by jowl with other
work being reviewed at the same theatre or other venues. To do anything
else fails readers, audiences and those making the work. The encouraging
thing about the Mind the Gap event was that it recognised this and
understood that the over-praising or programming of poor work damages
not just disabled artists but all artists.