Jaz Morrison reflects on her Nest Residency in association with MAIA

I haven’t been on many residencies, so I wasn’t sure what to expect during my time at the Nest. I remember asking if Talking Birds had any expectations of me, despite reading that this was about using the time as I felt best. The commute was surprisingly long – around 90 minutes from door to door – but it allowed me time to read books I’d put off, and the walk from the station familiarised me with the city centre. I even ran into an old colleague in my final week.

When I first got to the Nest, I was greeted by the kindest atmosphere. Charlie made me feel welcome and gave me the Nest Tour (I should’ve taken a picture of the whale!). The coffee was wonderful. And the studio, Solid Blue, was equipped with everything I needed to make the most of my time. I was able to take the time I needed to settle into the space and ‘feel free’ to do things. Their environmentally conscious policies made me a little more conscious of what I was bringing into the space. It also alleviated some of the worries I’d had about the ‘tangibility’ of my practice, reminding me that it wasn’t by force to always make a physical thing, or go through materials for the sake of looking busy.

Last year I curated a group show called GOD-POCKET, exploring self- and group-actualisation; and I wanted to spend the residency pasting together bits of documentation to create a documentary (of sorts). This would give me something that I could reference in the future. I missed a lot of lunchtimes trying to chase this goal. I’m pretty sure that first week was a lot of tunnel vision, broken up by a gaze out the window, or a trip to get more coffee, or a head popping around the door for a chat.

 

The Nest features an experimental Code at the front of the building, asking a set of questions to encourage a space that is regenerative and imaginative. This reminded me of the Code of Conduct pasted outside the building of my old workplace; or the discourse during my Associate Artist Lab about community manifestos and terms of engagement. It made me think about how new spaces can be created. It made me think about grieving rooms, pirate utopias, online spaces, and archives; and how GOD-POCKET was an experimental site with experimental rituals. 

Conversations with Charlie, Philippa, Janet and Derek included topics of public infrastructure; old Talking Birds projects; the art of Christopher Samuel, Rinkoo Barpaga, Life of a Craphead, Dan Edelstyn & Hilary Powell; and the new Birmingham/Coventry-based show ‘This Town’. As I continued into the residency’s second week, even my documentary was concurring with this sentiment. There is a need to constantly innovate culture through collective authorship. The Midlands is so often seen as sitting in the embers of the Industrial Revolution, but surely this means there is more than enough space for new rites of passage, new symbols and icons, new cultural wear, new folklore and urban legends, and new spaces.

The beauty of my time at the Nest was that although I only wanted to make a video, I could process the trajectory of my practice and better define where I wanted to go next. I would pin up sheets of paper covered in scrawly notes, or documentation from previous projects. I would sit in silence, or think out loud, or video call a former collaborator to further process topics we’d explored. And I finally got around to writing a foundational access rider for myself. 

Towards the end of the second week, I gained a new appreciation for this invitation. Former Talking Birds resident, Sam Holley-Horseman reminded me recently that there aren’t many spaces that offer opportunities like this. The space for chaos and the lack of expectation were two things I didn’t know I needed. I look forward to further developing my exploration of culture-building along the (now more defined) frameworks of Space; Ritual; Archive & Signposting; and Folklore. I’m so glad to have joined the ‘found flock’ here at Talking Birds, and look forward to seeing what the future brings.