Prashant Kansara reflects on a Talking Birds Hatching residency…

My residency at Talking Birds took place earlier this year over five super sunny summer days in July. Three months have passed since that time and I’m surprised at how much the experience impacted the way I work now. 

I’d learned of this residency programme the previous summer during one of the Nestival of Ideas talks and was keen to apply when the chance came around. When I heard that my proposal was accepted I was delighted yet still a bit apprehensive since I’d never done a residency before. However, soon after starting I realised that it was pretty much what it said on the tin: time and space to develop my creative idea in a supportive and stress-free environment.

Having a whole week to be around so many creative and nice people was a bonus too. I’d lost a lot of confidence after a crazy amount of setbacks over the years, so the opportunities to discuss my work with Janet, Phillipa and Charlie, and my fellow residents Gayatri and Ania throughout the week as peers were truly so helpful and made such a difference to me. 

My work, in a nutshell, is centred around telling stories with visual art. I make paintings and experimental films mostly, but I enjoy playing around with other formats too. One that fascinates me (which I only found out about this year) is the crankie theatre. 

Crankies are simply a box with a window cut out on one side with two rods at each end that are attached to a long piece of paper or cloth with illustrations on it. The performance bit happens when someone turns (cranks) the rods and narrates the story for an audience while the pictures move past the window (much like when a picture book is read aloud).

Back in January, my wife and I made our first crankie from stuff we had around our flat, and with a design that allowed the viewer to operate it directly. It worked fairly well but turning the rods wasn’t easy so it needed redesigning to make it more accessible. I had other projects going on back then and had to shelve it temporarily, so I was able to return to the project with this residency.

The problem was that my week at The Nest was moving faster than expected, and my plan was already off the rails. The first two days it seemed were spent mostly scribbling random thoughts on a bunch of Post-its and ploughing through packets of cheese and onion crisps. 

So on the third day, I arrived at The Nest determined to focus solely on my crankie. I began by chucking away the Post-its from the days before, but then one caught my eye. On it, in capital letters, was scrawled a single word: SANCTUARY. 

This instantly conjured up an odd image in my mind. I tried drawing it but couldn’t, so I opened my ancient laptop to see if I could recreate it as a digital collage instead, since these only take me a few minutes to do usually. Around three hours of staring straight into the screen later, I had made this…

By now it was clear that this diversion (or whatever it was) was hijacking my time here, and that I needed to find my way back somehow. 

To clear my mind I tried meditating for a bit, but that wasn’t easy after the three mugs of coffee that I’d downed. I paced around the room for a while. Looked out the window for a bit. Sharpened my pencils. Swept the floor. Counted my pencils. Twiddled my thumbs. Twiddled my pencils. Went to the shops. Bought some crisps. Went back to The Nest. Joined everyone for lunch. Ate my crisps. Had another coffee. Then returned to Helloland, sat down and watched my brain explode. 

My imagination wouldn’t let go. It just wanted to play with this new shiny concept and push everything else away, no matter what. 

And so for the second half of my residency I went with it. Maintaining focus suddenly became much easier, and (between more crisps, coffees and conversations) I managed to get a lot more done. Written stuff mostly, since I find it easier to plan artwork when I can first describe its themes in words. Whenever I got stuck I’d write prompts to myself, such as, for example, “What is this artwork adding to the conversation?” or “Where did this idea come from?” 

I remember the latter question giving me pause because I’d in that moment realised that the answer was likely related to some difficult life experiences. Personal stuff is something I prefer avoiding in my work usually, but for some reason this time it felt ok. At the risk of sounding like an armchair psychologist, the reason could’ve been that, with all the kindness and brightness around me at The Nest, I’d subconsciously registered this as a safe place to deal with these things. 

Or maybe I was just tripping off whatever chemicals were in all those crisps. I really don’t know.

It was sad saying bye to everyone on my last day, but at the same time it didn’t feel like an end to anything. I was encouraged to pop back to The Nest for future events and I’d no doubt that I would. It’s such a positive and amazing place.

I kept on developing the idea over the next few days at home in spare moments, and it wasn’t long before I had gotten a clear idea of what it was all about, and what shape it would take. Surprisingly and completely coincidentally, soon afterward I saw an artist call out for works on the theme of mental health and well-being. I put in an application for it using the stuff I’d done by then and, to my astonishment, I got the gig!

The finished artwork eventually took the form of an experimental film called ‘Sanctuary’, and this was screened at a group exhibition as part of the Mental Wealth Festival in London in October. The image that I’d made in Helloland was even used in a poster to help promote the event. I also later made a shorter alternate version called ‘Sanctuary II’.

I’ve learned so much during this residency – the value of slowing down and being kinder to myself, and being more open with going with my creative instincts. But more importantly, the value of being part of a community. We are incredibly fortunate as artists in Coventry to have access to such genuinely supportive and vibrant organisations like Talking Birds, which are filled with super dedicated and passionate people doing so much great work to bring us all together. This residency here, more than anything, has encouraged me to be less afraid and more involved going forward.

I also know that my recent achievements and new outlook are a direct outcome of my time at Talking Birds. Nothing went to plan, but nothing was really lost either. I’m sure my crankie will find a way to hatch another day. And in the meantime, I’m gonna keep looking for more cuckoos.