Lisa Franklin reflects on her Nest Residency

Back in April 2023, I had the opportunity to undertake an artist residency with Talking Birds at the Nest in Coventry, delving into the world of fungi and flora as artistic collaborators. This experience was transformative and allowed me to explore the intricate relationship between humans and the wider natural world in ways that I hadn’t imagined.

My application stated: “I would like to spend time with you at the Nest exploring the idea of the ‘more than human’ as collaborator, rather than resource.” 

More-than-human: 

1. A term used critically to remind human geographers that the non-human world not only exists but has causal powers and capacities of its own.

My aims:

• Collaborate with the more-than-human, with a focus on fungi and flora.
• Deepen my understanding of the interconnectedness of all beings and highlight the significance of respecting and preserving the natural world
• By integrating the more-than-human world as active collaborators, I wanted to challenge the human-centered view of creativity and encourage a more inclusive perspective, building on some of the work that I already do within access & inclusion.
• Hope to evoke empathy and wonder within myself and others. 
• Blur the boundaries between human and non-human entities, encouraging a deeper connection and understanding of our place within the natural world rather than alongside it.
• Spark conversations around ecological issues, the ethics of human interaction with the environment, and the potential for coexistence and collaboration.

On the first day, I was greeted by Charlie and given a tour of the space & a set of keys. I’d been to (and worked at) the Nest a number of times before but this felt different and I was left with a whole new sense of awe, visiting the space in this new role.

I arrived into Helloland to find a cloth gift. I’d previously mentioned to Janet that I was researching ways to grow a living wig as part of a commission with Lucy Neal and her performance piece Ring of Truth (https://www.lawyersfornature.com/ring-of-truth/) for Timber Festival. This piece of fabric would go on to become the foundation for a mycelium wig which presided over a forest courtroom and which acted as the perfect symbol of how held I had felt creatively whilst visiting the Nest in this new way and the generosity of others who exist there too. 

I set up the space and took a moment to breathe. Overwhelmingly yellow. As I settled more into the space and more into myself, this yellow would become less overwhelming and more a mark of happiness.

I came armed with a pile of books, from which I swallowed extracts in stolen moments and highly recommend reading:

I warmed up each morning by painting mushrooms in watercolour & gradually grew a fungi forest across the yellow walls to act as a reminder & as inspiration for the time.

I took a self-portrait for the ‘Who’s In?’ board. (It felt only right to include a non-human collaborator)

I planned my time and I panicked – not enough time / too much time! 

What a privilege it feels to have time to exist within your creative practice without any pressure or expectations from anyone other than yourself. Where do you start..?

I started with a walk/forage down the canal to meet some of my non-human neighbours, of which I was surprised were few. Then, I headed back to the Nest to facilitate some spore printing. I wanted to allow space and time for fungi collaborators to make their own mark, from the very beginning. Through this process I was able to capture their intricate patterns and textures onto card. Each spore print revealed the distinctive personality of the fungi, an artistic collaboration that unfolded through the natural processes of dispersal and reproduction. It was a humbling experience to witness the beauty that emerges from the seemingly simplest of actions.

I listened in to an ‘Understanding Plant Intelligence’ talk with Paco Calvo and Natalie Lawrence online. I absorbed. I played. I moved. I listened. I tried to better understand.

Then, it was suddenly the end of my first week.

That weekend, by chance, I ended up back at the Nest helping out with digging over and planting a wild strip of land behind the main building, alongside Janet & some former and future (although we didn’t know it at the time!) Nest residents – Rachel Bunce, Amy Kakoura, Kim Hackleman and Michael Snodgrass. We also built planters with Janet as part of the Mothers Who Make a Garden – a new artwork for Coventry Biennial 2023 and it felt good to work with my hands, under the cover of sky.

The things that I ended up doing outside of my time in Helloland were just as valuable and awe-inspiring as the time spent being playful within my yellow walls. A big part of this was lunchtimes. Talking Birds encourage beings in the building to come together for lunch and I had the absolute pleasure of doing my residency alongside Michelle Bailey, who I talked to lots about grief and about hope and about everything else in-between. This beautiful human connection often led to me taking a completely different direction post lunch.

On a different day, a lunchtime conversation with Janet helped me start to decipher why I was even making work at all. I was suffering with a serious case of imposter syndrome and questioning why anyone (including myself) should care about what I have to say or make. Janet likened artists creating to the idea of mycelium putting out fruiting bodies (mushrooms) during times of stress or need and releasing spores, which may or not be taken forward to create new. This spurred me on to continue growing and sharing my work and ideas.

At the time of my residency I was also engaged in a research group led by Christina Poulton, which looked at ways I could potentially use AI as an access tool (most often as an aid to defeat ADHD and task paralysis!) 

Inspired by our meeting, I asked Chat GPT the question, “What is the more than human?” To which I was duly informed:

“The term “more than human” refers to the concept that humans are not the only beings or entities that have agency, intelligence, and consciousness. It encompasses a recognition of the fact that other living beings, such as animals and plants, as well as non-living entities, such as machines and artificial intelligence, can exhibit complex behavior, exhibit intelligence, and interact with the world in sophisticated ways.

The “more than human” perspective invites us to re-evaluate our relationship with the natural world and to recognize the interconnectedness of all beings and entities on this planet. It encourages us to move beyond a purely anthropocentric worldview and to acknowledge the value and importance of other forms of life and intelligence. This recognition can have important implications for how we approach issues such as environmental conservation, animal welfare, and the development of new technologies.”

I had never considered that the more than human concept might reach as far as ‘intelligent’ technologies. I loved the fact that this AI bot that I was speaking to recognised itself as so. Where might this lead me..? 

First up, somewhere fun. I asked AI to write me a story from the perspective of a mushroom and this is what I got:

“Once upon a time, in a dark and damp forest, there lived a little mushroom named Max. Max was a small, humble mushroom that lived quietly among the other mushrooms in the forest. Max was not the biggest or the brightest mushroom in the forest, but he was content with his life, and he was loved by all the creatures in the forest.

Every night before bedtime, Max would sit quietly and observe the forest. He loved watching the fireflies dance around the trees and listening to the hoots of the owls as they flew overhead. Max was always in awe of the beauty of the forest at night.

One night, as Max was settling down for the night, he heard a loud noise coming from the forest floor. It was a group of curious humans exploring the forest. Max was frightened and didn’t know what to do. He had heard tales of humans destroying forests and harming the creatures that lived there.

But Max didn’t give up hope. He knew that the forest was a special place and that it needed to be protected. Max decided to use his voice, which was small but powerful, to warn the other mushrooms and creatures of the forest.

Max called out to the other mushrooms and told them to hide from the humans. He warned the squirrels to stay away and the birds to fly high in the trees. Max’s warning saved many lives that night and kept the forest safe from harm.

From that day on, Max realized that he might be small, but he could still make a big difference in the world. He continued to watch over the forest every night, and his voice was always heard loud and clear when danger was near.

And so, the little mushroom Max became a hero in the eyes of the forest creatures, and his bravery and selflessness were remembered for many generations to come.”

Make of that what you will..

Another lunchtime conversation led me to question the nature of true collaboration. It was all very well me deciding to collaborate with other beings but what if they didn’t want to be collaborating with me? Should I be asking for consent? How would I even go about doing so? Is my work two way? What defines true collaboration?

These are all concepts and ideas that I’m still grappling with now and that I am aways open to sharing conversation about.

I decided to push forward while I worked it out.

I attended a ‘Restoring the Earth through the Arts and What it means to be Human’ talk online with The Land Art Agency & Collective – “No kind of being exists in isolation. We bring each other into being.” Thom Van Dooren (https://www.landartagency.com)

I was joined by the brilliant Amy Kakoura for a day. We experimented with multi-species music making, utilising biofeedback technology to convert the electrical impulses of plants and mushrooms into sound. We connected sensors to plants and translated their biological responses, such as changes in conductivity or growth patterns, into musical notes or ambient sounds. I plan to further develop this into a live performance piece, with human & more than human collaborators in the not-too-distant future. We invited some of the team to come and see what we’d been up to.

I experimented with casting, mould making and biomaterials. I used Grown Bio material to grow a living plant pot and various other shapes. I cast my hand in plaster in order to practice making moulds for growing into – the idea being that I would later try to grow mycelial body parts.

I spent time researching other artists working cross-species and hope to connect with others working in a similar field moving forward. Check out Cybele Rowe, Jae Rhim Lee, Azuma Makoto and Seung-Hwan Oh.

Not long after my residency I collaborated with Janet on Accounting For Change, a research project which aimed to provoke accountants to reconsider their profession’s approach to environmental responsibility through the use of conversation, provocation, shared food and musical mycelial systems. You can read more about it here: https://talkingbirds.co.uk/2023/06/14/creative-accounting/ 

During my time at The Nest, I learned to embrace the unknown and surrender to the creative process. I discovered that by relinquishing control and allowing for intuitive and reciprocal collaborations with the more-than-human, I could tap into a well of creativity and wisdom. This experience taught me the power of vulnerability and the beauty of embracing uncertainty in my artistic practice. I also gained a deeper understanding of the interconnectedness between my queer and neurodivergent identities and the exploration of multi-species collaboration, as these experiences enriched and informed my artistic perspective.

My time at the Nest has had a profound impact on both my artistic practice and personal outlook. It has deepened my appreciation for the more-than-human and inspired a greater sense of responsibility and reverence towards the environment. It has sparked a newfound curiosity and a commitment to creating artworks that challenge conventional notions of authorship and embrace the agency of the more-than-human collaborators.

The sense of community and collaborative environment allowed for open dialogue, shared experiences, and a genuine exchange of ideas. The connections formed continue to resonate with me, reminding me of the power of collective exploration and the importance of fostering supportive creative communities. 

My residency with Talking Birds has laid a strong foundation for future artistic plans, and I am grateful for the opportunity to have been part of this inspiring and transformative time.