HE RE o
:t
RE
HE
/T be an
om
aw
ex dis plor pla ing ce wo me m nt en’ thr s e ou xp gh er ar ienc ta nd es o wr f itin g
about the project HERE/THERE: To be a woman was commissioned by University of Bristol researchers Emma Williamson, Kurda Yar and Nadia Aghtaie as part of their research into gender-based violence and displacement. Artist Ellie Shipman and writer Sian Norris devised and facilitated the project which consisted of four creative workshops with a group of women who have experienced displacement mainly from Iraqi Kurdistan and Syria, resulting in the design of two fabrics and creation of two chairs, this newspaper and piece of short fiction. HERE / THERE: To be a woman revealed the tense in-between space the women, and many others, are living within. Moving from one patriarchy to another, existing in a temporary interim, the perception of HERE shifting in lived reality, the memory of THERE nostalgic under the smell of cloves. Family traditions are remembered and plump figs reached out for, only to find them dry, imported, drawn in two dimensions and black and white. This project explored this ‘/’ slash: the interim. The workshops attempted to create and reclaim an in-between space where we are all welcome, where we can be women together, sharing stories, triumphs and tribulations, laughter and tears. We made this space a place. A place where HERE and THERE exist concurrently. Where we explored the complexities of displacement, cultural identity, motherhood, careers, creativity,
politics and war through poetry, scriptwriting, embroidery and mark-making. The fabric for the HERE chair and THERE cushions were inspired by and feature the women’s stories, poetry and illustrations. These fabrics were digitally printed and made into cushions for a Western stickback sofa and a Middle Eastern-inspired floor cushion set. The two HERE and THERE chairs are a pair, one alone without the other, both existing in time and space together. Both physical, functional objects to comfort, to nurture, to be used, to work hard, to be worn down, to be repaired, to hold
a narrative, to be part of life. The chairs embody a physical place, a place to sit, a place to read, to reflect - a place to be.
Mark-making by J This drawing represents the journey from Kurdistan to the UK, the black marks are the more negative experiences during that time.
__ Sian Norris devised a piece of short fiction based on the narratives and stories shared during the project, featured at the end of this newspaper. Two exhibitions of the works will take place in 2018, in both Bristol and Kurdistan. To find out more about the project visit eleanorshipman.com
“You took the pressure off our hearts and allowed us to play like children�
mapping ourselves
To aid our story-sharing, we used notice boards to map ourselves. Shula, created this collage exploring her sense of self, and Taban revealed the contradictions of life in the UK and Kurdistan (right).
About Me by Shula
Welcome to the UK by Taban
embroidery patches After sharing a word we think of around ‘being a woman (see right) we also swapped the things which make us laugh: ‘When I hear a loud drum my waist starts to shake!’; ‘My children make me laugh’. We then began embroidering significant words onto our patches, the flower fabric symbolising the UK, the plain fabric symbolising participant’s home country. The two extremes which emerged clearly exist concurrently in each woman: LIMITED FREEDOM / A MASK YOGA / OIL CURSE BE KIND WITH ME / I LOVE MY COUNTRY
being a woman beauty. my children. wearing a dress. happiness. nice words. kind. restricted and powerful at the same time.
Embroidered HERE and THERE Patches 1. Shula 2. Taban 3. KH
I want poetry I want I want every human to see the fruits of their labour I want to reach my potential as a woman. I don’t want inequality to limit me. I want my children to receive a better education. I don’t want to be less valued because I don’t speak English fluently. I want to work with horses. I want to own stables, ride and look after the horses. That is my dream! Srud Horse, 2018 Sherin Sherin painted this horse inspired by Srud’s poem to be included in the fabric design. Unfortunately it was submitted after the deadline as Sherin had not heard from her sister in Syria after fighting broke out where she lives. She still managed to complete the painting, the first time she had painted since living in the UK, and it will be included here and in the exhibition.
I want poetry I want I want to go back to Kurdistan. To the beautiful dream I always have in my mind. I want to have a garden, a dry warm one, where I can sit with family, sit happily as I used to be. I want to have the fig tree again, the one I used to play on all day when I was ten. I want to settle. To fix my feet on the floor. I want to ground myself once and for all. I know it’s hard. But as long as I have a dream my head is in the sky. Taban
I want I want my children to graduate from university with the highest degrees. I want to stop the war in my country. I want the people love some of them and help some of them. I want my family will be happy all the time. I want to win lottery to help all the people. Sherin
to be a woman The group created self-portraits on mirror. The portraits will be exhibited at the height of each woman, allowing viewers an intimate experience of seeing their own face alongside the portrait creator’s.
Above: Self portrait in process, Shula Above right: Self portrait, KH Bottom left: Poetry and self portraits in process, Taban Bottom right: Self portrait in process, Kurda
when I was poetry When I was... When I was seven I climbed on the fig tree in my mum’s garden. It was my mum’s garden at that time, and not my dad’s! I played every day. When I was 15 I got the highest mark in school. When I was 25, I got the first prize for a short film as an actress! The audience were shouting my name. The hall filled up with my name.
Taban Othman
My Past Education When I was six I started school. I was very excited and happy. Also, wary. When I was 12 years old, I started secondary school, and after that I start in the university. In this time it was a very good and nice time. Next I got a job. That is the important thing in my life.
Noor
when I was poetry When I was... When I was little we fled to Turkey. We sought refuge in Turkey. I cried a lot. I will never forget this horrible and difficult time. We went to Jala because of Saddam Hussein. When I was six years old I went to school with my sisters. It was very nice because we were all in the same school. When I was in year 9, my neighbour’s shop caught on fire. I was very scared! When I was in year 12 my teacher said I had to change schools. The new school was too far from my house. I had to go to a new school. I cried a lot. When I went to training college it was different. It was very nice. I had freedom there more than in school. But two days before graduation my grandmother died. My family said to go but I couldn’t. I was not happy in my heart to go. When I arrived in the UK for the first time I felt sad and lonely.
I was separated from my family. Now, even though I feel safe, I am still very sad for my family. My family live in danger because of Iran, Iraq, and Turkey. They want to be in conflict with us. My neighbours, Iran, Iraq, Turkey, who are close. I want to live in peace with them. Without war, problems. or bloodshed. I don’t want there to be killings on any side. But they fight with us, oppress us, and continue the killing. Kurds want to live freely. Like everybody else. Why is this possible for other countries, but not us? There is only killing and bloodshed for us. No freedom!
KH
objects / stories On our last day we all brought in objects which represented being a woman HERE and THERE. An emotionally-charged session, the objects prompted stories of lost careers and changing identities, distant relationships, out of touch families and attempts to preserve and pass on traditions. Taban brought in a washing-up sponge as her object for HERE (right), She described the unwelcome change from her successful career as a filmmaker and famous actress (below) in Kurdistan, to what she described as ‘just a housewife or mum’, also symbolised by this photograph of an empty park. The sponge symbol resonated with the whole group, including the researchers and facilitators. We decided to use it a main icon on the HERE fabric (see overleaf).
“Back home I was a filmmaker and actress
...now I am just a housewife and mum.”
“The smell of these cloves reminds me of my Grandma.”
Shula talked about smell being evocative of so many memories, such as this clove necklace (top right) traditionally worn in the breast pockets of older women, similar to a lavender bag in Western culture. Another participant brought in some African souvenirs which, after growing up in Sweden as a refugee, she now collects to remind her of her native country and culture.
“I grew up in Sweden so now I collect traditional African objects to remind me of my culture.”
HERE chair
The final HERE chair was created using the HERE fabric, digitally designed and printed. The fabric features poetry and words developed during the workshops, exploring being a woman in the UK.
Fabric designed by Ellie Shipman Sponge illustration by Ellie Shipman, object from Taban Words from the group
HERE chair Ellie Shipman, 2018
THERE cushions
The final THERE floor cushions were created using the THERE fabric, digitally designed and printed. The fabric features poetry and illustrations exploring being a woman in the women’s home countries.
Fabric designed by Ellie Shipman Walnut and necklace illustratons by Kurda Walnut poem by KH Fig leaf and fruit illustration by Shula Fig poem by Taban Words and other poetry from the group
THERE cushions Ellie Shipman, 2018
short fiction Dubrayka Ugresic holds the map of a country that no longer exists and asks herself if her history no longer exists. Khazale holds the sequinned bag her mother gave her. Shula holds the clove beads her grandmother gave her. Taban holds the sponge high in her hand.
This piece was inspired by the stories shared by the group.
Sian Norris, 2018 branches meant freedom there then here she’s caged. Sylvia Plath wrote about the fig tree in The Bell Jar. The tree appeared in a dream and each fig presented her with a different identity. In the dream, the figs all rotted and dropped from the tree. She had no time left to choose. She is offered three figs:
Ones that carry photos with them.
A photo of herself in a baseball cap, squinting through the camcorder lens. A photo of herself in a formal dress, winning her award. A photo of her hand holding up the sponge.
And ones that leave photos behind.
***
***
“Cover their eyes now”
{I’m paraphrasing}
The driver knew where the dead bodies were.
*** Dubravka Ugresic says there are two types of refugees.
*** She climbed the fig tree in her family’s garden. In her memories it is always warm and dry. Not here where it is grey and cold and if the fig tree
For six days she lived in the basement. They dragged mattresses down the stairs, soaked in water and propped against walls and doors. Outside, the city sank under gas that rained down while. Beyond its borders, words rained
down on the UN about what exactly it would be right to do next.
Not counting descents. Not counting rain.
~ That argument still reigns now and my goodness, so much has happened in between ~
Not counting snow. Not counting the child
For six days she lived in the basement and in the moments when the city wasn’t sinking under gas she would go upstairs to play.
who was told to keep very quiet. ***
For six days she lived in the basement and after the moment when the city was fully sunk under gas she was put into the car and the driver who, among his many skills, knew where the dead bodies were, told them when her eyes needed to be covered.
—Today I ask what do you want. Write a poem about what you want —
— Today her daughter sleeps but when she opens her eyes we don’t cover them —
To ride a horse you need to keep your eyes open.
She wants stables full of horses. {Me too, I say. I always wanted a horse.}
*** *** It is 1,135 kilometres to the Turkish border from the region where she once lived. That is 705 miles.
The name of the town she once lived in is HEADLINE NEWS. ~ was ~ The face in her charcoal drawing looks away.
Not counting uphills. ***
It’s men! It’s men, of course it is!
***
~ every day, another abusive man’s name is reported in the news ~
Why is it possible for them and not for us? ***
And then there was this time… You too? Me too!
We only wanted to play outside.
We are collectively rolling our eyes. We are laughing because if there is one thing we all have in common, it’s the things men do.
***
They don’t know no it’s that they don’t listen they do know they don’t listen or they pretend they don’t know because after all…
***
My head is in the sky and I know it is hard.
My feet will not fix on this floor. ***
*** I couldn’t go to my father’s funeral. We ran away because of what he did. I cried a lot.
***
***
I haven’t heard from my sisters.
We had to leave because of what he was doing. Cover their eyes! Now!
***
***
It doesn’t matter where we live or what we are, these are the things all women share.
And when my brother came back from the mountains I felt myself loved again.
***
***
***
I was not happy in my heart.
I cannot say it because… well, I can’t.
I am a lion!
*** I come here and I am lonely. *** I’m just a mother. I’m just a housewife. *** I’m just a housewife. *** Just. A. *** {This is not my story to tell.}
with thanks to the brilliant, funny, talented and generous women who contributed their creativity, time, skills and stories to this project: Jero KH Kurda Negat Noor Sherin Shuala Srud Taban Nathalie for translation Commissioned by University of Bristol researchers: Emma Williamson Kurda Yar Nadia Aghtaie Sue Cohen Devised and facilitated by: Ellie Shipman, artist eleanorshipman.com Sian Norris, writer sianandcrookedrib.blogspot.co.uk Newspaper design: Ellie Shipman
HE RE o
:t
RE
HE
/T be an
om
aw
ex dis plor pla ing ce wo me m nt en’ thr s e ou xp gh er ar ienc ta nd es o wr f itin g