Image by Miriam Fluchter Following her recent inclusion in Open Eye Gallery’s The Flowers Still Grow, artist Miriam Flüchter speaks to guest writer Hazel Archer about the project for the final instalment of this two-part interview.
H: Nostalgia is at the core of Childhood is a Garden, whether introduced aesthetically, by the grain of analogue, or by the reminiscence of oral histories. It’s a pleasant emotion, yet it harbours a reactionary attitude towards change (or that fraught word, ‘development’); it is a form of memory that longs for what once was.
While siphoning the perspectives of people of very different ages into this project, did you ever feel a responsibility to balance negative and positive outlooks? Did you feel a duty to work towards an exhibit that ultimately exuded hopefulness?
M: Overall, I do see my role more as that of a neutral “recorder”. While I hope that the project reflects my relationship with the area and the people of Garston accurately, I was very careful not to impose my own interpretation on the narrative that emerged, although I am aware that this is only possible to a certain extent.
My intention throughout was to pick up on and portray the feeling the residents were displaying towards their neighbourhood, regarding the past, present and future and that feeling was overwhelmingly positive. There is definitely a sense of longing for what was and a sense that some of the character and the infrastructure of the area has been lost. This idea particularly emerged in conversations I had with older residents. Nevertheless, Garston is their home, a place they love and feel deeply connected to and I wanted this love to show in the images. Parents and grandparents are concerned that there might not be enough work in the area for their children when they grow up, but they are also hopeful that things might change. The children themselves very much live in the present and have not yet developed a critical relationship to the place that is “home” to them, as no alternative exists in their view.
I was also mindful that I was working with children and I did not want to impose any negative views about their area on them, so I wouldn’t have brought up any criticisms unless they were first raised by the children, which was never the case. I would say that the sense of hopefulness came about by focusing on people’s emotions, rather than statistics about the area. I think as a socially engaged artist, I find narratives around community resilience complex, as I think these can sometimes suggest that communities don’t require support from local authorities, and I wouldn’t like to let local authorities off the hook this easily. However, I would say as an outsider it seems to me that the people I have worked with in Garston find strength and hope in their relationships with their neighbours. I don’t think we always need to point to the issues to have them addressed. Nostalgia is a powerful lens when thinking about the future. With one eye on the past, we can often evidence that the changes we would like to see aren’t new, but that they already existed. Instead we can ask why it is that they no longer exist, when clearly their existence is entirely possible.
In the case of Garston, we are not even looking very far into the past – as Chris’ story shows the area had a lot more job opportunities and a lot more infrastructure even some 40/50 years ago. So, I never felt like I had to balance “positive” and “negative” outlooks, because I think they exist within and alongside each other and contained within the hopeful outlook is a desire for change.
H: In the exhibit’s curation, asking questions plays a vital role—not only as an effective way of engaging children, but of leaving the project open-ended, to be shaped by visitors’ spontaneous responses, too. Are there any questions that you find yourself returning to repeatedly in your practice, questions that guide your approach nor only as an artist, but especially as a socially engaged one?
M: I like to ask ‘why?’. Anyone, who knows me will (probably somewhat exasperatedly) vouch for the fact that I have never fully outgrown my ‘but why?’ phase. I think the ‘why’ is important to establish, so that we can move on to ‘what can we do about it?’
I also think it’s a good and simple question to ask when engaging children, but also adults in conversation and I want to encourage children (and adults) to keep asking it. For example, it is not ideal and should not be normalised to live around a bunch of empty, derelict buildings. So, why are these buildings empty? Why is there no longer a tram in Garston? Why do elderly people now have to travel to an out-of-town shopping centre, if they need new clothes or home furnishings? If you keep asking why eventually you might reach the conclusion that you are simply not content with this circumstance, that the justifications aren’t satisfactory and that you deserve better. Everyone deserves to live in a beautiful place with good infrastructure. This is not an outrageous demand to make. When I work with children especially, I aim to encourage independent thought and to do this, I think ‘why?’ is the most important question.
H: You worked on this project for a long while—where do you see your practice’s relationship with Garston going next? And finally, more generally, any other projects or aspirations for your practice that you’d like to share?
M: I have been working on this project since April 2023. I am currently looking at planning the last phase of the project and one of the key questions on my mind for this is how to build in sustainability. I haven’t found an answer for this yet, but it might be interesting to return to the theme of greenspaces or revisit the future of some of the disused buildings like the old cinema. I am hoping to maintain a relationship with the groups I have been working with, but as with all project-based work, it’s difficult to tell what the future will bring.
For my creative practice, I am planning on continuing to look at the theme of childhood and magic, but my interest in heritage, architecture and folk culture is also growing, so I might look at working with rural communities next. Incorporating analogue video, natural materials and sculpture and working in a more environmentally sustainable way are also on my checklist.
One challenge for the remainder of the Garston project, is that I am currently living with my not-yet-in-laws near Northampton, so I am looking for a community dark room or studio space in the midlands, if anyone reading this knows of any community dark rooms or studios with free space around here, I would be really interested in connecting.
Miriam Flüchter is a socially engaged photographer and multimedia artist from Germany, currently based and working between Liverpool and the Midlands. She holds a keen interest in architecture and history and the changes that have happened to architecture and infrastructure in the UK in the last century. Her project Childhood is a Garden forms part of a two-year residency with Open Eye Gallery, and work from it was shown in Open Eye Gallery’s recent exhibition The Flowers Still Grow.
Hazel Archer is a freelance curator and art writer interested in documentary art, photographic processes, and ecological criticism. She has curated and co-curated a number of artist exhibitions in Manchester with local artists including Suzanne Bethell, Suzie McDaniels, and Helen Thomas. She is a guest writer for the SEPN, and a volunteer at Open Eye Gallery.
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