Tribute to Barbara Steveni by Laure Prouvost by art360foundation

A Tribute to Barbara Steveni by Laure Prouvost

Image above: Barbara in the Brain at Flat Time House, Peckham. Unknown date. Acid-burn photo. © Barbara Steveni Archive

I, Letter to Barbara Steveni from Laure Prouvost & ‘Man’ II, A Conversation In the Garden about the connection of everything at the same time with Laure Prouvost, Barbara Steveni, and Anna Goertz

Art360 Foundation

Image stills taken from video documentation of ‘Conversations Between Ourselves’ of Laure Prouvost and Barbara Steveni, 2013. Read more: https://en.contextishalfthework.net/exhibition-archive/barbara-steveni/

A LETTER TO BARBARA STEVENI FROM LAURE PROUVOST & ‘MAN’ BY BARBARA STEVENI

Dearest Barbara, My dearest inspiration, aspiration, imagination, activator, organiser, gatherer, walker, initiator, thinker, change maker, idea spreader, archive, memory, translator of ideas, you brought sunshine with you to every room you entered, like today. You have been a huge inspiration for me and so many. APG, O+I, I AM AN ARCHIVE, will live long and take many more walks. I hope to become more and more a carrier of these ideas. Bringing inventive thinking and art a more active part of society changing perceptions, all this with charms and elegance as you always did. Ideally, these words would describe the complexity of emotions it is to talk about you and what you managed to create with such integrity. You are a hero of our time to me, you deploy changed perception of what art and society could be, creating inventive bridges between artists, governments, businesses, nations. we love you and will miss you dearly. Let’s eat a few more raspberries together with a cup of tea, and discuss what there is still to do! You change the world for my generation and the ones to follow. You are forever young and will be with us in spirit. You and John were a chosen family to many of us, and your visions will keep growing as the huge plant in your bathroom. A few months ago, thinking of you as an incredible woman surrounded by great and strong man, i asked you if you cared to write a few words on "man" and here i will read your words:

MAN LAURE you’ve chosen ‘man’ for me BARBARA for Legsicon... because?... perhaps? Was it that man? Your ‘conceptual grandad’, for me... artist and husband, is that word even used now? ... that was then ... Today as great grandmamma, what is ‘man’ for me now, and for you LAURE as a fellow traveller in this intense challenging artworld bubble of ‘relative’ freedom, a world where you play risk at the borders of media and our human senses? So, to today’s actions as I build towards a Legsicon for ‘man’. ... wake, another sunny day, it’s twenty-five with a breeze, not that thirty-five Celsius... how am I to prioritise ‘man’ in today’s context of my oppositional pulls, into the bathroom to shower, hot then cold pulling my skin tight, don’t wash hair so bath cap... I look like my mother, aware every daily task pulls me away from ‘man’ deadline, though it’s forming all the time... body calls for stretches, take supplements and the tablet keeping me on the planet, cutting up peach, half banana, and the all important apple, think of LAURE and raspberries, so into the small garden where we sat together, I just want to be with the sun on my shoulders, in water, in the sea, but get grandaughter on the coach to Devon, now I’m missing the deadline, I missed the deadline, can, will we ‘wimmin’ continue this exploration of ‘man’? ... occupying half our planet ... Barbara Steveni Sending you much love in these difficult times, to the future!, when the world has recovered, healed, changed, re-centred, my very best and do take care

Images of Barbara in the Garden at the Artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s home in Peckham

HERE BELOW AN OVER TEXT INTERVIEW WE DID IN THE GARDEN FOR A BOOK OF MINE CALLED "HIT FLASH BACK": A CONVERSATION IN THE GARDEN About the connection of everything at the same time Laure Prouvost, Barbara Steveni, Anna Goetz

Barbara Steveni: These strawberries are really sweet. Really lovely! Anna Goetz: I love this time in May and June when asparagus and strawberries are back again. Laure Prouvost: Ah, asparagus – it’s such a German thing! BS: Will this be part of our interview? LP: Of course! AG: So, it all starts with strawberries then... AG: I met Laure in her studio in Antwerp to talk about the exhibittion we’re working on together for the MMK Frankfurt as well as about our plans for the publication that’s published on the occasion of Laure’s three part solo-exhibition at Le Consortium in Dijon, the MMK in Frankfurt and Kunstmuseum Luzern. We began talking about Wantee (2013) and Grandma’s Dream (2013) and about the role of the artist and the expectations an artist feels confronted with. I realized only then that the subject of the works is not so much the grandfather, but rather the story of the grandmother, who after he leaves is, by telling about him, actually narrating her own story, her ideas, her hopes and dreams, and also discussing her own conceptual approaches. Laure also told me about her time working with John Latham, as well as being closely involved in your practice in the context of APG1 . You were always an inspiration to her, as a person, but also as an artist, and I think this is visible in her artistic language also. Which is why I suggested this conversation with the two of you for this first monograph of Laure’s oeuvre. LP: I was very happy with that suggestion since we have a lot in common I feel. We can talk about many things, our shared interests or about the dialogue between our works. BS: Who is publishing the catalogue? AG: Mousse Publishing. BS: How do you spell that? AG: M-o-u-s-s-e. Like mousse au chocolat. [laughs]

LP: I like that. Mousse... Mousse au chocolat. I’ll just work with chocolate manufacturers from now on. Forget clothes–we need chocolate! … AG: You both met in the context of Flat Time House3 in London when Laure was working as John Latham’s assistant. That was shortly before Flat Time House started off as an art project. Tell me about that time and the beginnings of FTHo. BS: In 2003, the local council decided to promote the gentrification of parts of Southwark to bring more investment to the area, and also to boost their local artists. Bellenden Road had Antony Gormley just across the road and Tom Phillips as well, and then there was John Latham. But of course John didn’t quite fit in with this object-based sort-of-something practice. He then came up with this clever idea of that massive book coming through the front window and going up the facade. That Southwark guy said: “Look I’m only in housing, and you won’t get anything past anything if it’s higher than six foot.” So John immediately turned that thing on its side and John Mallinson painted it to be going up. So it became that blown-up image of a book, extending up the front of the house to where the sculpture would have reached. LP: We always had lunch here, at Barbara’s and John’s house. We were spending a lot of time together, having discussions about APG and also about John’s work of course. For lunch John would heat up some old stew he had from last week and just add a few more carrots. I also remember him drying used teabags to keep them for multiple uses. BS: He put the teabags on the radiator and then they were never used again, actually. If anything, he was frugal... What was so noticeable about John though was his ability to improvise anything and to make and adjust things in a moment of crisis. I think that was the result of him having gone through the war and getting blown up a couple of times. LP: These were amazing and strong experiences he had had from working as a captain of a

Motor Torpedo Boat during the war. Quite a lot of his work referred to those days. He often spoke about it too. I think he was actually going back in time a lot, mentally speaking. His work was so affected by his personal life. This is something I like a lot. Life is so complex, especially since we are all part of each other’s life and work at the same time. Barbara became part of me as much as John did. BS: When I was starting off doing the walks revisiting the APG placements I asked Laure whether she would help me record them. So you filmed my Beginnings Walk (2002), which was about how the whole APG thing got started in Portland Road. LP: I really became part of the family in some way. I felt part of that history: filming the walks and revisiting the APG placements. Or just eating and cooking together, talking about your conceptual approach in terms of APG, but also your own independent practice dealing with forms of narrating and archiving. Your project I AM AN ARCHIVE4 has been very inspiring. Your way of narrating also influenced me in my way of narrating. BS: By the way, I’ve got a business card now at this late stage in my career. Now people want to know what I’m doing independently from my involvement in APG. I always scribbled my personal details on a piece of paper but now we produced that card saying I AM AN ARCHIVE on its front and some stuff on the back. AG: What’s the stuff on the back? BS: The stuff on the back are my details, like– LP: –like, your weight, how heavy you are, how much hair you have... BS: [laughs] No darling, I didn’t put that on there! But that’s actually what we did at our performance talk we held at the Whitechapel.5

I remember we started by talking about how we actually got there that day. I was relating it to my habit of weighing myself in the morning but because I’d had that biscuit from John Mallinson earlier my weight from the morning might have changed... We continued like that, talking about every step, every decision we took that one day, up to that moment sitting there together and giving that presentation. It was a good event! LP: We actually had invited an opera singer. Her task was to repeat parts of our sentences as we were speaking. So, we would talk like this, with a normal voice, and she would be singing “we would talk like this.” BS: Oh, this was wonderful! AG: Did she always repeat complete sentences as their exact repetitions? Or did she shorten and therefore somehow interpret them, like pointing out what she considered most important? I could imagine that it’s not going to be easy to follow your conversation whilst everything is being repeated simultaneously. And even more so when it is being interpreted in a different voice during a staged performance. LP: It was fascinating to be translated into singing actually. And also quite pleasant to have the time to think of your next sentence to say. AG: What else was your conversation about? BS: We were talking about the role of the artist and that time in Germany when I used my own name–Steveni–for the first time. Women artists used to just be “the wife of so and so” back then. I came out by being Barbara Steveni and not the secretary of the men of APG, which the opera singer repeated only as “not a secretary!” [apes bad singing voice] LP: That talk was about the big picture again: about everything around us, all our experiences and everything that defined you as an artist and as a person. We would describe the shower we had in the morning, our whole day en détail, or things that came up spontaneously from talking to each other in that very moment: sensations, or work, how everything is sort of mixing and fusing with each other. Everything is part of that one body of experience. That’s exactly what

your work I AM AN ARCHIVE is about in my opinion. It’s everything-it’s the conversation we have now, it’s the work we make, it’s the wind we’re feeling, it’s the sun, the decision to sit in the garden and not inside, everything. It’s this sort of idea of connection of everything at the same time. It also provokes the idea of an archive and its meaning. Everything is an archive, we’re all “archives,” but it might sort of “die” as soon as it’s in this box. Or the meaning of the work will change, at least. BS: I did a show at the Arnolfini called Beyond The Acid Free.6 I still had all the files that had gone to the Tate but had also told those guys to leave me the envelope files. So I cut these up with a bunch of other things, like diaries. I had a wheelbarrow and then did a performance with everything. Lisa-Raine, my assistant at the time, kept saying: “Barbara, Barbara, that’s an archive, you can’t cut that up!” LP: You should! Acid Free–it’s a nice title. When I did Wantee in 2013 we talked a lot about this idea of holding on to history, or what the role of the institution is. It was during the Kurt Schwitters exhibition7 , but of course it was never like Kurt Schwitters was actually there doing a performance. So therefore it becomes something else entirely. It’s a new history, it’s a new work, it’s a new perception in time. BS: An important moment for my work was when I was sitting together with a bright young person, Barney Drabble, preparing and cataloguing the APG archive for the Tate collection. While working with him my approach to archiving–which has developed a lot since then–began to evolve. He recorded me narrating about life and going back into memories, talking about the placements; how I remembered them from today’s perspective and with all the experiences I made since that time. In this moment of narrating, the placements suddenly became something else for me. This fusion of past and present turned out to be a very important point of departure for my future practice. But it wasn’t only about me narrating but also about the present moment of interaction as a whole; with him asking questions from his particular perspective and informed by his life experiences. Or by telling me about stories he had heard and read about APG from other

participants like David Harding8 , all the while creating a new story, which was then in turn documented through his reinterpretation. I never really reflected on the idea or conceptual part of archiving before. John also never thought of archives. Now we know they are hot shit for funding! LP: It’s not even so much this kind of looking back. It’s also the fact that those things you do on a given morning become a part of you. BS: Exactly, it’s getting the time together. The times become one. AG: This fusion of time is the interesting moment because it questions the concept of a singular reality. By bringing people together to speak about a so-called shared experience they also bring in their individual biographies and everything they went through before as well as after that collectively shared experience. Their personal histories have an individual impact on how this moment is perceived, remembered and narrated later. This activity of remembering-of re-activating something in your mind which one was part of-and articulating it connects the memorized past with the present and transforms it into something new. This process of transformation goes on and on. BS: It creates more work as well as something new in the process. LP: Which can then be gathered again in the archive. It’s a never-ending process... AG: What happens if you record these narrations? In what sense is that process of re-formation happening there too, and how do you work with these recordings to present them in an exhibition context? They completely change their status there, or do they not? BS: That’s another question, especially when looking at Laure’s editing and her decision to add text. Who’s got the power then? The visual or the audio-or the text, the words? I was so struck by that yesterday when you revisited your early work It, Heat, Hit (2010) in the talk again.9 I have not really edited so far, but it’s a question that strikes me a lot these days. I have not really edited so far, but it’s a question that strikes me a lot these days.

For the Berlin show they suddenly wanted to present the conversations inside the white cube as part of a static exhibition. The conversation project and the walks were still ongoing at the time, and while working on them I didn’t think about how the form could be transformed to be presented as a piece in itself in an exhibition context. We always thought of them as rather time-based performative pieces. But since Berlin wanted to include the recordings of the walks we found ourselves fire-fighting with the editing question. For the moment, it remained unsolved and we decided to put together a 30-minute compilation for that occasion. But I’m not so sure if this is the right way to present them in an exhibition space. AG: If you cut the real-time recordings down to some sort of a compilation of bits and pieces it becomes rather documentary and unctions more as something like a teaser perhaps? For me the walks, the art pieces, are very much defined by aspects of time, duration and the immediacy, as well as by the people present in them. So, I would imagine that the edited recordings could lose their autonomous status and turn into a rather referential form at worst. BS: Yes, exactly. I’m very aware of this. That’s also why we had a bit of a discussion about editing. Also, the question for whom these edits are made or the context in which they are being viewed is important to keep in mind. LP: I would agree that in this case it’s probably good not to edit them. With general conversations and talks it could make sense to use excerpts because then you focus on certain moments, but I think your work is much more about its longevity, also in regards to a recording. … BS: Jürgen Harten, with whom we worked together on the APG show in Düsseldorf, once said to me: “You know Barbara, John would never have done APG without you” and I thought that was wonderful to hear that from him, a man of caliber. If I think back I realize that this whole time I was working with John and the others together on APG, I actually developed myself through that. AG: You mean the person you are today was formed by that particular collaborative experience as much as your artistic practice? LP: Of course–all the things you did together with

John and APG were strengthening your own ideas. I think that must have been hard at the time. You had to fight much harder than I. It’s not really fighting, but during that time it was still mostly men making art or being recognized for their work. BS: That was actually the original reason for me to start the conversations. At the Raven Row APG exhibition10-which was beautiful and the first time all that had come together–I looked around and it was just the men. Yet all the women had been part of this as well: Deborah Brisley, Anna Ridley, myself, et cetera. LP: I have to say that for me you were the concepttual base carrying APG. It’s a really wonderful conceptual piece by you. Of course John was a very important force there too, but for him it was always rather about him and about getting his message across. But APG was going almost further in terms of involving different voices and reflecting the context you were operating in back then. Everyone would talk about it more as an organization. But for me it’s much more: it sort of questioned the way we live, the way art is presented, the way it’s used, the way society is structured. It was so ahead of its time, almost like film making in some ways. I love the way the Nouvelle Vague and experimental cinema in general questioned and challenged their medium’s structure. Just like you were questioning the structure of the art world back then. Nowadays there is so little film that questions the language it operates with. Narratively it’s about being entertained, so it puts less pressure on the viewer to remain active. APG turned the whole art world on its head: the idea of art and politics and the role of the arts in regards to societal dynamics. I think my work is probably less challenging regarding the bigger picture, but it’s playing with its own medium. It questions the way it is looked at and understood. AG: I understand what you mean, Laure. I was thinking about these parallels too: that APG’s way of reflecting the societal struc-

tures and dynamics it was operating in, against, or with-could be compared to your way of working on an abstract level. In some way, you could relate the two approaches according to their structural language. One strong and unique quality of Laure’s work in my opinion lies in her way of making the viewer aware of the immediate condition of watching a film by challenging the viewer in his habits: those of reading the moving image and believing in its illusory quality. While Laure is reflecting on the structure of the medium film one could say that the language APG was reflecting on was the language of society and the art world, on its inherent systematic structure. Also for APG it was about becoming conscious of these dynamics. BS: On the one hand Laure asks: “Who’s got the power?” but on another level also: “Has the word got the power?” Has the viewer got the power to see the word in that way? Has the sound got the power? Has the visual got the power? And you know, it’s absolutely wonderful; I thought I really loved Laure’s challenging and questioning of power, and of authority. LP: It’s true that there’s a lot of questioning of the authority of the past, or the institution, and the authority of the institution of art. In what sense are history and historically established belief systems and categories of reference making us look at things in a certain way and understanding them accordingly, without us questioning these structures? AG: Do you think there is a hierarchy in terms of the impact of the different kinds of influence, like primary and secondary impressions? Are there certain things that are more dominant than others? And if so what could be the reason? And what is that influenced by? Do you think there is a way to manipulate that? On the one hand, you’re dealing with these questions on a more abstract level. On the other hand, they are subjects in the stories you are telling, like in Wantee, The Artist and Grandma’s Dream. These stories talk about the role of the artist and the expectations of the public, the institutions or the media that one is confronted with. Which is where it also makes sense to draw some parallels to Schwitters’ work, whose context your works

are often discussed in. Perhaps one could say that where APG was questioning the authority of given political and societal dynamics and structures you are operating more on some kind of meta-level and on that of perception and the subconscious: how we read things; how we look at things, and understand or misunderstand them. LP: I see what you mean: the fact, the feeling, the weight, the heat, smell, the brain. Usually words are that moment of control and authority as primary impressions, but all the unconscious surroundings leave a stronger impact I believe. … BS: For the exhibition in Berlin and for the Edinburgh festival the curator asked me: “What would you like to do Barbara?” and I said: “Instead of doing another walk I might prefer to narrate specifically through anecdotes and not focus on the facts of how it came together.” The whole idea of being in the present, being in the body, the continuation of the journey is very important and that is why Laure has been hugely important to us-both in the connections that have become visible but also in her way of working. It’s so fresh and so questioning, and so alive. LP: I think it’s these little anecdotes-as you say-that are important. I love anecdotes. BS: You see, you love anecdotes too. John always said: “Don’t anecdote! I don’t want anecdotes!” He wanted facts; and to talk about his worldview as he saw it. BS and LP (in unison): ...the big picture! LP: How the big picture, the all-encompassing structure... how the world comes together. But I think anecdotes are belittled a lot. When I was growing up they were being treated like gossip but it’s really about these little moments between people. We share many anecdotes-like when John Latham asked me to put cream on his back and that moment resulted in I Need To Take Care Of My Conceptual Grandad in 2010, in which I was creaming his book. These anecdotes become bigger things-metaphors about caring about someone-and about history turning

around: about becoming an oily, creamy book. AG: I agree and ask myself: the way we remember anecdotes as opposed to the big picture as you say, or the facts: do we remember anecdotes differently, perhaps more sensually? Like in association with smell or taste or the feeling of a certain texture, like when you just mentioned that cream. This is very much part of your work, Laure. LP: Anecdotes are something you often remember subconsciously, like in association with a lovely smell of flowers from your childhood, say. As you grow up you might lose certain memories but they get re-activated by a smell for example. That kind of process fascinates me. BS: To flag up the memory that anchors it. So it is going towards a big picture. LP: Better than the big picture, because the big picture is so abstract, the opposite of sentimental. AG: And you have to anchor it in your own history to really remember it; otherwise you forget it. It’s interesting how we remember things differently, what’s anchored in your brain, and how. LP: It’s often things that are not talked about. That’s why the anecdotes are interesting. When you go to school you are only taught to learn things by heart like historical facts: “then the war started, then the war stopped.” Yet your memory might become more active if we start talking about one person’s individual experience. Only then we get more of an understanding about a situation. AG: So it’s about the framing of the facts? LP: The framing of what’s personal, of sensations and of facts-which are usually dissociated. If we talk about rules at school-as I experience it with my daughter-she is taught to learn in categorizations, for example. This is how it works; there is a wordhere is a first letter… BS: How are you sabotaging that? LP: She thinks she’s already fifty-two! [laughs] My work derives very much from this kind of anxious pressure. Growing up, you learn facts at

school. And then my grandma said: “Oooh! You don’t know when Jeanne d’Arc was born?!” and you sort of feel embarrassed by not knowing this fact and therefore not being capable of confirming the established reference systems. It became an anxiety I had to tackle by questioning it. Why do we need to know these things, why are they so central to our education? Of course, sometimes we need a point of reference so we can turn around. But messing up the structures was a lot more fun than remembering things. AG: When did you consciously start finding your own system to apply and to develop new rules? LP: As a teenager I didn’t feel “part of it.” I went to an art-focused school when I was quite young, from about fourteen. I then realised that there were many languages and other ways to express things. BS: I’m just thinking that it was this perception Tony Benn11 was meant when you were filming us in the archives. He liked this idea of the “conceptual engineer”probably a John phrase, I guess. He said: “I’m intrigued, because the artist has a totally different perception.” I think it is this individual perception that we have to hold against the slings and arrows, and that’s what is fresh about Laure. I refer to artists who are motivated to keep questioning things, or to any other specialists, as “engines.” You have the “conceptual engineer,” but you also have to have the “engines” today. So I’ve coined this phrase for myself. LP: That’s such a great idea, the perception of the artist not actually having a trade, or not needing to know how to do things. This way you get more of a distance to things: you are a foreigner to the world and start to invent and create your own vision, your own understanding. … BS: I was so happy to watch It, Heat, Hit yesterday again. Just to think about it lifted me up! I recently saw Kaleidoscope at Modern Art Oxford together with John’s work. They also had Douglas Gordon’s 24 Hour Psycho, which if you stay and watch the movements is quite amazing. But none of them challenged the auI just loved that, so fresh and questioning and alive.

thority of the visual, the sound and most of all the words as much as you did... I just loved that, so fresh and questioning and alive. AG: For me It, Heat, Hit is special. I’ve watched it probably fifteen or twenty times now and still I’m always completely caught by it and struck by the relation between the visual, the sound, the spoken as well as the written language. BS: You spend a very long time editing I guess? LP: Yes, it takes me ages. AG: It’s so much about duration of the moment. The time you’re spending on something; the time you need to find the right words in your head and then put them in your mouth and spell them out loud. LP: I think I work more on the sound than on the visuals in terms of time. I think with sound you are able to enter the subconscious on another level. BS: Your work–in whatever medium–is a manifestation of the subconscious I would say. LP: I think memories and things that we can’t hold on are something even I myself can’t articulate. I can’t remember what sounds I make in my sleep. The straight memory keeps the image but the subconscious holds the whole thing including its sounds. … AG: Yesterday when I mentioned Marguerite Duras’ Le Camion12 you said you were struck by the way she was filming and how by driving through the city the buildings moved like sculptural forms through the image. And by how the whole city itself became so sculptural, like voluminous forms pushed through he three-dimensional space of the image. By pointing that out you made me think about a previous conversation of ours when I asked you about the referential quality of the images you use. But yesterday, when you were talking about Marguerite Duras’ filming I realized that how you use images is not necessarily

about their indexical quality. They don’t refer to the context which they’ve been extracted from, or rather imprinted of. The way you use existing still or moving images-like the dog jumping towards the viewer, the bottle spraying water onto the back of the image space, the boy jumping off the cliff, the knife cutting a carrot into halves-is more about the inherent formal or structural quality of the image; like the movement within. It’s really sculptural. LP: Absolutely, it can be really sculptural. In a similar way, I am fascinated by the pure physicality of a truck; not just this truck in particular or the story connected to it, or our idea of it. …

Film Still from ‘Barbara Steveni’, An Art360 Film by David Bickerstaff showing Laure Prouvost filming Barbara Steveni’s ‘Beginning Walks’, 2002 © Art360 Foundation & David Bickerstaff, 2017.

Image of Barbara in the Garden at the Artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s home in Peckham

BS: OK great. Shall we have another cup of tea now? LP: That would be lovely, thank you! AG/LP/BS (altogether): Wantee? Want some tea?13

Our thanks to Laure Prouvost for generously sharing this transcript in tribute to the life and work of artist and activist, Barbara Steveni. You can find the publication Laure Prouvost: Hit Flash Back (2016) here, moussepublishing.com, in which Prouvost describes Barbara Steveni’s influence on her work. You can explore more of Laure Prouvost’s work here: laureprouvost.com. Through the Art360 Programme we produce documentary films of artists exploring ideas of archiving and legacy. In 2017 award-winning filmmaker, David Bickerstaff, created a short documentary of Barbara Steveni describing her practice and relationship to the Archive, which you can view on YouTube.

Our thanks to Art Fund for supporting the production of Art360 films.

Art360 Foundation

Art360 Foundation is an independent UK-based charity set up in 2016 to support artists and estates with archiving and legacy planning. We are pleased to have worked with artist, Barbara Steveni, from 2016 to 2020 through the Art360 Programme supported by Arts Council England, the Henry Moore Foundation and Trusts & Foundations throughout the UK. Our thanks to the team at Flat Time House, the Estate of Barbara Steveni, and Advisors and Archivists, for working with Art360 on the development and preservation of Steveni’s prolific archive and legacy. Read more about the work and legacy of Barbara Steveni at https://barbarasteveni.org/.

Contact Art360 art360foundation.org.uk @Art360Fdn Ellie Porter, Head of Programme: contact@art360foundation.org.uk