Children's Art 2: "ME"

In 2000, the Brisbane children's theatre festival, "Out of the Box", included an exhibition called "ME" in which some 15 schools in SE Qld took part under the direction of Raquel Redmond, a children's art specialist from Bardon, Brisbane. Using a great variety of different media: from charcoal or pastel on paper, paper-clay or mixed media sculptures, to bead and bow applique on cloth dolls , children aged 5-7 from various backgrounds were invited to create a representation of "Me". I was lucky enough to help out with a couple of the workshops.

What struck me most clearly - even more than the beauty of the finished creations- was the certainty with which these un-inhibited children were able to express "themselves". There was no freezing before the daunting white sheet. In front of an array of ribbons and bows and buttons and felt, a child's hand would reach out, hover for a moment in reflection, and then go directly ("instinctively") to eg a hunter green plaid stripe for the central strip of a shirt, or purple wool for fluffy pony tails. They all generally worked in an atmosphere of satisfied silence, in which handling the materials was not the least pleasure, and they all seemed to know exactly when something was finished, even though they worked in remarkably different ways: some finishing in a few minutes, others taking an hour or so to get things exactly right.

The results always both looked nothing like and yet exactly captured the kid, or the kid at that particular never to be repeated moment of time.

I was struck by this partly because adults, or even older children- find it hard to work so freely. They ARE daunted by the white sheet, and also by "what people will think" of what they create, of "how it will compare" to what others have created, are creating around them. They also are busy thinking of the finished product, the item to be hung, frozen in time, instead of the intense engagement in the process which characterises the younger artist. There has insidiously become a focus on an endpoint, a gold standard, and the possibility that "ME": that ephemeral, ever-changing centrality unique and consistent unto itself, could be rated: good, bad, clever, lopsided, pretty, ugly.

I loved watching the kids instinctive art-making so much that I approached my friend Jan Cattoni (who later directed our journey, "After Maeve") to see if it might be possible to record the making of the "ME" exhibition - but I had not left enough time to coordinate the necessary resources. I am happy that one of the outcomes of the film we have ended up making together is that both Maeve and Tara are captured essentially through their own unique expressions of themselves (in art and in dance) - and also that it is inspiring parents to try to guide rather than inhibit the unique expressions of their never-to-be-repeated children- and perhaps even to have a go themselves at splashing out, without focussing on the finished product.

Fostering Intergenerational relationships

One of the first thoughts to sink like a stone into my consciousness in the days following Maeve's death was the recognition that I would not have any grand children. Well in fact of course, I should appreciate the parenting experiences that I have been privileged to have: plenty of people who would make great parents are unable to physically do so. Which brings me to the topic of 'fostering' non-blood relationships, particularly across generations. In the 'old days' in Ireland and other countries, fostering wasn't what it is now, something implying a temporary, government coordinated arrangement in circumstances of inadequate parenting. It occurred among all levels of society to spread resources and mentoring and perhaps also children around. My childless Great-Aunt in Chile and her German artist husband 'fostered' a young lad from the local German community after his father became disabled. This young lad was brought up by his own loving parents but soaked in the environment of English and German and art and culture at Joan and Willi's nearby peach farm. He later went to university and became a successful engineer and in his turn looked after Joan and Willi, visiting my Great-Aunt every week and coordinating resources so that she could remain in her own home until her death at 103. None of her blood relatives came near to approaching the emotional, physical, or financial care which this fostered kinship provided.
My life is rich with inter-generational, non-blood-line, relationships which I foster. Among the relationships which give me the greatest pleasure include that with 93 year old Aase Pryor, the old Norwegian midwife who looked after an Infectious Disease unit in Brandenburg during WW2 and went on to be a pottery genius and teach jewellry in Boggo Road... we have breakfast together at least once a month and exchange all sorts of crazy ideas... the grown up children of an old boyfriend remain important to me... as is every single one of the Bumbletown Councillors - Maeve's old friends - with some of whom, for example, I went second-hand clothes-shopping in Brisbane's "Valley" today, incorporating the usual mix of fun and room to move, mutual quiet appreciation, and a tiny bit of active instruction...(how to recognise some-one on "speed", the cultural origin of crocheted bikinis, and what cold pickled chicken feet taste like!!!)
Medical advances have eased suffering in many ways and I heard on the radio the other day that IVF techniques are now being used to relieve the social stigma of childlessness for some African mothers. I am very grateful to the advances of medical science but I believe our fundamental family is the brotherhood of man and the sisterhood of all creation.
The experience of having one's own genetic children is inimitable, as the genetic bonds and the physical intimacy of pregnancy and birth cannot be replicated. However, we are often enmeshed in the complications of our relationships with our own relatives. So often our blood relationships are beset by disappointment because we are holding too tight to hurts, or to how we wish our daughter/father could be instead of accepting the way they are. Sometimes it may even seem we can 'love' our 'fostered' children, grandchildren, aunties, grandparents more freely than our natural relatives. It would do us well to open our hearts beyond fixed lines, both within our so-called "real" families, and also by fostering a broader family, particularly by extending and enjoying those mentoring relationships which come most naturally to us.