In Response to Silence
Over the Easter break I had the chance to catch up on some reading and was very glad to have found Pew by Catherine Lacey in a second hand bookshop a week or so beforehand.
The narrative invites us into the world of ‘Pew’, so named because they are found sleeping within a church and then invited into the community to be cared for. However, Pew isn’t able to remember anything about her life, they can’t even confirm their name or gender and therefore chooses to remain silent to the majority of people that she is introduced to. Pew’s silence is hugely unnerving for the community, they have no means to categorise or placing them within their usual confines and their relationships become increasingly strained.
To me it was apparent that Pew’s silence was acting as a mirror, reflecting the characters back to themselves. Without a response, characters felt the the need to keep justifying their stance, decisions or life story to Pew, who’s silence to them felt like a rudeness, a stoic act of defiance, but regardless of the reason for the silence it meant they had to listen to themselves, to their own constructions of their narrative realities.
It was then up to the various characters to decide whether they held firm in what was being reflected back to them by continuing to justify themselves, or allowed the presence of Pew to instigate some questioning and self-reflection (although this wasn’t an avenue which was explored explicitly within the book).
It made me wonder who and what elements of my life reflect myself back to me, my family, the children, the dog (already!), the passing of the seasons, my artwork, God, and how I respond to those moments in which I can hear myself clearly or have a trait revealed that I wish was different. Sometimes it prompts an opportunity for an apology, sometimes it’s a moment to learn and apply myself differently next time, or perhaps it’s a question which I ask of myself and others.
As an artist, I have seasons of clear introspection which then find my way into how I make, share and present my work. Often I will begin by creating instinctively, then through observation I’ll begin to load the work with the narrative that it is revealing to me, and then I strip it back in order to present enough to the audience without them being spoon fed, but which frames my intentions.
Perhaps this is all an exercise in listening, an invitation to say less and instead receive the world around us.
This article is taken from my April Mailout which also features some of my latest news and cultural highlights.
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