A reclaimed childhood by Dhanya Nair

I remember huffing and puffing up the last few stairs and being greeted with an expansive yet strangely intimate view, with all its nooks and crannies. The ensuing weeks that I spent there slowly drew out a latent childlike spirit within me as I was catapulted into the memories of long hazy summers past. It’s strange how my time there is at once tucked in the palm of my hand and a feeling preserved long ago, blurred around the edges but honey-sweet.

Something about the loud, even overwhelming physicality of the landscape enthralled and captivated. A space that begged to be touched, felt (all within a covid-safe limit of course). You had adults and children enticed to steal grazes of the artwork, and those more emboldened by spirit, or drink, to throw themselves exuberantly in the world of the art and sit on and/or pull things that most definitely did not have that kind of structural integrity. Perhaps it’s something about that skyline that nurses a feeling of infinite possibilities, even on the rainy and stormiest of days, maybe especially then. Or perhaps it’s just Bold. 

dance then, wherever you may be by Katrina Nzegwu

If you’re reading this, you’re probably thinking of joining the extra-fabulous Art Trainee Programme by Ioana Simion

We’re interrupting this internet browse for a quick vibe check.

Hi, I’m Ioana and I’m here to share with you my experiences as a former trainee and guide you through some of the things I learnt and discovered after taking part in  Bold Tendencies’s 2020 ATP.

First things first, yes, it does get pretty windy and also quite hot up there. Before you embark on your journey, I recommend you to visit a local garm shop and start to curate your very own collection of hats and waterproof clothing.

Time flies. Just a quick reminder to make sure you’re being proactive from the very beginning. You don’t want to feel regret, trust me! Talk to everyone, embrace every challenge and interact with the site and commissions as much as you can. Document every plant from the Derek Jarman garden and every striking sunset! Take as many pictures as your iCloud allows you - we’ve all had THAT pink staircase photoshoot, so don’t worry, no one’s going to judge you.

Make friends. Be genuine and nurture your friendships with the other trainees & coordinators. You’ll soon realise that Bold is a family - a wholesome, new group where everyone is invited to collaborate and feel at home.

You’re going to visit a handful of exciting places. Galleries, museums, fancy tea rooms, independent studios and even a city farm: these were only some of the places we visited in 2020 (yes, in the middle of a pandemic lol).

Peckham is one of them! Don’t forget about your surroundings. Bold is ideally situated in one of London’s most exciting communities. There’s a variety of really great food spots: the wrap truck just off the main street - which is so famous for their lunch that it doesn’t even need an introduction; the delicious afro-carribean JB’s Soul Food, the 5 star asian ‘Mr. Bao’ and the list can go on and on. Lots of good charity and books shops - and of course the Bussey building and Peckhamplex.

Assignments and mentor talks. As part of your learning programme you are encouraged to compose artists, workshops and event proposals. This is an exciting opportunity to share your interests with the group and present something that you’d want to see at Bold! Another incredible opportunity that you definitely have to take advantage of is the weekly mentor talk, which can be an off/on-site invitation to meet inspiring individuals from the arts & culture sector. Some of my favourite mentor talks included artists Es Devlin, Rene Matić and curator Zoé Whitley.

Lunch and baking goods. Are you into cupcakes, cookies and banana bread? So are the staff and the trainees at Bold. Be ready to immerse yourself in a variety of baking goods and speciality hummus selections. Yep, lunch is also fun and quite diverse. Soups, BAGELS, great fillings, fresh veggies, an infinite amount of small packs of crisps and cheese… I mean what else would you need, right?

The live music events. For those of you who don’t know already, every summer at Bold there’s an exciting programme of live orchestral music which you’re lucky enough to see and hear for free. Excited yet?

Don't forget about your discount at Frank’s Cafe! Don’t be like some of the peeps that haven’t used their 30% off discount at Frank’s! Want to grab a drink after work? Your mate Frank’s got ya sorted. Just go to the bar and say you’re an art trainee, the staff will know what to do. #Blessingsonblessings

Also, don’t forget to keep on vibing (and vibe checking for extra points). You’ll be great, I simply have no doubt. Good luck in your Bold story my friend, I’ll see you on the rooftop. :) 

P.S : I hope the COVID clean will disappear from the list of duties xx

A is for Anti-Capitalism and Childish Art by Becca Lynes

My Six Weeks of Bold by Tim Huang

I came to Bold Tendencies as an Art trainee for Period 2. I thought it would be quite daunting to join at a later time when previous trainees already knew each other, just like missing freshers week. However, the welcoming nature of Bold and my fellow trainees made it very comfortable and exciting to join.

An image is worth a thousand words. I decided to draw a little illustration and use it as packages for possible merchandise. Wish I did this earlier to realise it for Bold, but it is impossible to know these interesting elements if I don't experience all of it first.

Here are a few words to describe my time at Bold.

Connectivity, playfulness, bagels, diversity, bravery, interactions, adamancy, flexibility, pigeons, seagulls, cheese balls, learning, listening, embracement, and chocolate bars...

A reflection on accessibility after Peter Adjaye’s Mentor talk at Barbican Centre by Jessie Gao

Peter Adjaye is a contemporary conceptual sound artist, specialising in cross-disciplinary collaborations. He is a musicologist, composer, DJ-producer, musician with an academic background in mathematics and engineering. He publishes his music through a limited amount of vinyls. This physical and conventional form of music reproduction seems old-school to those of other modern formats such as digital formats uploaded on Spotify and Apple Music.

Tessa, one of our trainees, was particularly concerned about the accessibility of art as she grew up in an area without much exposure to art. When Peter was asked about if he would publish his music in a digital format, he answered with a definite “No”. It seemed that this response triggered some dissatisfaction from other trainees who cared about social causes and especially art education. 

My question is, should artists be respected for their preferred medium or be critiqued on the art medium? The pandemic and recent social issues has raised awareness of 1) accessibility, 2) opportunity of artists who are POC (people of colour), and 3) sustainability. In this blog post I will address the first issue that was raised multiple times from this year’s trainees. 

As the situation of the pandemic still changes day by day, is our concern safety or accessibility? If we simply define accessibility as something like - so more people can see the art - how would we be able to achieve it. Would it be the form of decreasing ticket prices, introducing free admissions, or producing a virtual reality gallery? 

Some mediums are meant to be for real life observation. These mediums may include anything that is three-dimensional, which requires the audience to interact with it. Most common ones are sculptures and architectures. Of course you will be able to take a photograph or scan it into a virtual reality model, but it will always lack a certain depth. Humans are sensory creatures: we see, feel, and hear;  the immersiveness of a physical experience is completely different from a two-dimensional presentation. Sometimes art cannot be made accessible and is not meant to be accessible. If we were critiquing Peter’s work for not being accessible enough, have we considered how his music worked?

During our visit at the Barbican Centre, we were able to listen to his work in the Curve Gallery that was exhibiting Toyin Ojih Odutola’s work. Peter had to compose the music according to the structure of the Curve Gallery as it did impact audio in real life. However, would it be appropriate to ask an artist to change its medium so it is more accessible when accessibility was not its priorities? Or must every artist be pressurised in doing so because he brings a greater social impact?

I’d like to bring in my background in Economics, which I think might bring in another point of view. The purpose of art nowadays is mostly related to some form of impact, but the real question is does accessibility bring more impact? I would like to bring in the concept of the Law Of Diminishing Marginal Utility. It states that all else equal as consumption (in this case, accessibility of art) increases the marginal utility derived from each additional unit declines. Marginal utility is derived as the change in utility as an additional unit is consumed. Utility is an economic term used to represent satisfaction or happiness. Marginal utility is the incremental increase in utility that results from consumption of one additional unit. For example, based on this law it means that if all forms of art were more accessible, the audience will be less satisfied per observation/exhibition as they become too available. I do believe this law works in real life to a certain degree if we consider the audience’s price elasticity (how sensitive they are to admission prices). This law is particularly relevant because one way of measuring impact is through audience satisfaction.

There were several free concerts and virtual events done during lockdown. However, how many people willingly attended? Will the same group of audience still attend these online events if there wasn’t a lockdown or a pandemic? Will the audience feel more satisfied to attend during a pandemic because they were made safe (another form of accessibility)? There are so many other elements involved when we want to measure if accessibility actually increases the amount of audience and impact. 

The artists have chosen a medium that they think is suitable for the piece. Some art is created for the public and some are not. Must we force all artists to consider accessibility before creating art, or would that be restricting creativity? Will making art accessible actually bring more impact to the society? Will people appreciate art more if it were made free and public, or will it be the opposite? If the former were true why do we still purchase limited edition items, celebrity concert tickets, and luxury brands when there are similar substitute products at a lower cost? Does it mean if something is less accessible/available, it will bring more satisfaction when it is purchased? So does this mean if an exhibition was in a major city with an acceptable admission fee, will the experience be more memorable than if it was next door to your flat with a free entry? Do you have a stronger impression of something when it was less accessible? Chances are you have never tried your local restaurant just around the corner, because it is simply too accessible. 

For me I believe not all art needs to be accessible, but it is always better if it can.

Colours of Bold by Fiona Bryden

Over the 4 weeks on site I was able to witness a variety of events on the rooftop of Bold. From people gathering with their friends and drinks, to a number of dogs strolling around the art, kids running up and asking their adults question after question after question, and even enough Instagram poses to curate the most interesting and aesthetically pleasing feed. The rooftop more often than not was filled with welcomed guests, lovely staff, and anticipated performances (all covid cleans having been thoroughly taken care of). However, there were some moments of quiet that allowed me to take more notice of parts of the site. Despite being perched on top of a concrete structure that looks over London, a beautiful yet admittedly very grey toned city at first glance, Bold is filled with vibrant colours. From the pink staircase of ‘hi boo I love you’, to the yellow name stickers on our boxes for personal belongings. With the cool toned grey colours only adding to the vast palette of Bold. For this blog post I wanted to create a few collages of some of the colours that popped out to me when on shift going about the daily schedule. This small project was a great reminder to always take in your surroundings as much as you can, helping to create a more colourful and vivid memory of that place or time.  Bold is a place that I intend to remember in vibrant detail.

Notes From Mentor Talks, Visits and Artist Talks by Maya Luthra

A documentation of the temporary works through a seagull by Ellen Lloyd

I often come to this high up space. I am able to see more of what’s around me. Down on the ground the floor walkers reach up taller than I and I fear entrapment by bigger beings. However, where this space was always deserted through the colder and darker times, there have now sprung weird...things. Not quite trees, nor much like the other tall perches already on this high place. However, this is my dominion and I shall make these things my resting places!

no more quick, quick, slow – RENE MATIĆ, 2020

What is this perch? I thought it would be ideal as it reaches high into the sky – much like the tall dead trees which become small suns at night – however, I have encountered a number of issues. The length, albeit not the longest reach, allows for fellow gulls to attempt to perch. This I will not have. How am I expected to defend my place when I may be so easily accompanied? Moreover, the strange and useless wing, flapping futilely, making a loud and unnecessary ruckus is a terrible disturbance to one trying to perch peacefully. I shan’t be resting here again. 

Embrace – LUCY GREGORY, 2020

No. It moves, the limbs are too thin and hurt my feet. The limbs reach outward in a position that looks ominously like a floor walker and I shan’t be tricked by one of them again, no I won’t!

Vajra – SOL BAILEY-BARKER, 2020

It seems like some kind of beast. I shall not perch until I have been given solid proof that it will not try to eat me. Others may take the risk in the hopes of obtaining the ideal perch. Myself, however, wishes to survive. 

Hoist – LILIAN NEJATPOUR, 2020

Now this thing presents the opposite issue to the strange long and thin tree, in that there is almost no space atop it for even myself to perch alone. Moreover, I am weary of the smoothness of the branch. I wish not to be made a fool by sliding down the trunk of this strange thing. I am a proud gull, and will not stoop to those levels of desperation for a perch. 

The Throne Of The Third Heaven Of The Nations’ Millennium General Assembly and Once in a Lifetime – NATHANIEL FAULKNER, 2018, 2020

This odd pairing presents itself with a few flaws. The smaller of the two things does not have an appropriate surface for me to perch atop it, and I do not wish to have to be encumbered by this odd branch every time I seek to turn around. The other taller thing – I have yet to work out whether it be a tree, it certainly has a similar feel to one, yet the shape truly baffles me – is tall, yes, but shakes rather viciously in the wind

A New Dawn MMXX – JEREMY DELLER, 2020

Looks like an odd view of the distance, yet up close it appears to be a barrier. Now, I am glad I have some sense about me and observed this from a distance, and did not attempt to fly directly towards it as if flying away from this high place. This would indeed have led not only to potentially severe injury, but also would have caused high levels of embarrassment and shame for us gulls. It is the other birds which are known to have a lack of perception, unable to process the strange world of the floor walkers, not us gulls. 

Bod(y)ies That Weather and Damp Atmosphere – DAVINIA-ANN ROBINSON, 2020

Too low. You think I want to perch below the gaze of the floor walkers? Not I. The rustling of its floor disturbs me. It sounds like a serpent, and I cannot be at ease when sounds such as these are near. It makes the noises of a floor walker, yet I can’t always see one near it. I mistrust it. 

Amber Chamber – RAFAŁ ZAJKO, 2020

With this bright thing, I have little to note. Its height reaches high enough, it is stable, and there is enough room to fit myself comfortably without the threat of competition. While the smoothness of this thing provides little grip, this is only an issue when the winds beat down hard upon this high place. It is neither my most, nor my least favourite perch. 

Take What You Can, Give Nothing Back – JACK EVANS, 2020

And now, my favourite and most prized perch. The height, the texture, the variety of uses! Heavens above I have found my home away from home! For I can perch upon the top of its structure, fearing not the eager eyes of others, I can move around its peak fending off their jealous claws. Yet this is not all, oh no. For there is an almost constant supply of water, so that I can sup and wash myself if I so please – although I wish not the other gulls see me doing so. I must surmise that these odd floor walkers have created this form for this purpose specifically, as I can see no reason for its so particular a use other than for my benefit. I am so glad that this high up space has been blessed with the most immaculate perch. I am sure it will stay here for the foreseeable future. I am sure of it.

Be Bold Be Frank by Ciara Meehan

Thoughts and Reflections by Efea Rutlin

c.July-August 2020  Location - Rooftop Kiosk 

I feel very familiar with this view, the trajectory that people take on the way to Frank’s, until a sculpture catches their eye and they have to have a closer look. 

Drip Drip goes the fountain. Let me Lead. Davina talking to herself and anyone who will listen. 

Let me Lead. The horn of the train, why does it honk? Is anyone on the tracks or is it communicating to another train? Gentle murmurs from Franks. A kid tries to pull the sword. 

It’s funny how quickly you can get used to a place and feel comfortable with people. I wonder how much of it is zoom/ms rona making us ready to be in a different place than our houses - or meeting each other in our houses

Makeup series inspired by my summer at Bold by Alex Teng

I wanted to make a makeup series inspired by my summer at Bold, enjoy the different colours, shapes and glitter on my face. Some are simpler than others, but all encompass some sweet ~vibes~

New Dawn by Jeremy Deller

Amber Chamber by Rafal Zajko

no more quick, quick, slow by Rene Matic

Embrace by Lucy Gregory

hi boo i love you by Simon Whybray

What does it mean to be an Art Trainee this year? by Senah Tuma

Covid-19 cleaning (to protect yourself and others)

Complimenting each other’s rainware (we are on a rooftop, exposed to the weather after-all!)

Eating a questionable amount of ice cream, sitting in a park, ice-breakers at Wetherspoons in Peckham (NO, you can’t move the chairs to sit closer together)

Comparing rooftops with the ones we can see (Rooftop Film Club, you’ve got nothing on us)

Meeting strangers and ending up good friends (London to Scotland for a visit suddenly seems feasible)

Social distancing, but staying close (a privilege to bubble together)

Supporting each others artwork (following on Instagram, adding on LinkedIn)

A complicated relationship with the toilets (friend or foe? Admiration or fear?)

Approaching strangers to share your passion about art (it’s only scary the first time)

Missing summer on the rooftop before you’ve even gone. (Planning reunions already)

How to feed an Art Trainee by Senah Tuma

We started with soup and we ended up with a gourmet pita station. The lunch room serves us in so many ways - it is a space for scoffing a granola bar, for catch-ups, for recharging and for making a quick (but still very satisfying) coffee. 

The 2020 group of trainees have had a unique experience. Our first lunches took place on Zoom; originally meeting online for a two week introduction, we were unsure what it would feel like to meet in person. From video to in person - the lunches have been a point of discussion, and highlight of the days.

There was a level of familiarity on our first day on site. In the background of each video call, we had seen each other's living rooms, home libraries and family photos. What is more intimate than seeing someone's board game collection, or hearing their family members in the distance? On video, breaks began with a flurry towards the kitchen and a panicked muting and turning off our cameras - coming back on camera, hiding a chew or two. 

On-site, the rush towards lunch is also present - but now there is a level of communal excitement. Meet anyone interesting invigilating today? Thoughts on the soup? Millie, a trainee and graphic designer, personally favours the spinach daal from week one. As someone who is admittedly addicted to coffee in isolation, my favourite has been the possibilities granted to me by the massive cafetière.

More than anything, the lunches at Bold Tendencies have been a time for discovery, exploration and for friendship. In the trainee group chat our photo is of an individual’s lunch (I won’t name names), a lone dry pita and beige hula hoops. Put quite simply: a personalised feast. Eating together has functioned as a way to get to know each other; a light jib towards meal choices is welcomed. Through these meals, I feel that our group has really connected into a supportive network. A network that will not only help you hack up a focaccia, but also find your voice on site, and find you a disposable raincoat when you’re caught in a storm while invigilating. 

I’ve collected quotes from fellow trainees concerning our lunches.

Ellen - a dame with a beautiful mane - says, “The pure joy felt when pleasantly surprised by a toaster and bread a couple weeks in stays with me. Don’t get me wrong - the soup selection was very good, all bases touched, yet new things and carbohydrates are two wonderful things, and to be surprised by both boosted my mood!”

Toby - possibly the friendliest person I’ve ever met - reflects: “I was a recent convert to rye bread, and was absolutely obsessed with having it with salmon and the influx of avocados we had. That was my lunch highlight. I would also like it to be noted that the week we had soup, it was not soup weather appropriate.” 

Becca - always classy, and incredibly well spoken - chirps in with a brief, but impactful statement, “Let’s just say salmon day was pretty big for me.”

Ciara - a classic into classics - “Everyone got so excited when it came to lunch. Your standard kids birthday party, packed lunch for a school trip vibes. I want to say that I've never had a better bagel in my whole life. The pure ecstasy of a triple cheese bagel was unparalleled, and adding a quartered tomato for health on the side. And then I love as well, nicking all the cereal bars and munching on them in the afternoon, crisps on my journey home. I didn't expect to have such good food, I'm overwhelmed with how impressive it was.”

Alex - “Eat a tomato like an apple, that’s my tip.”

Emily - ‘Salmon Bagel.’

Leaving the traineeship, I can honestly say I’ll miss the lunches!

Being Bold, Being Resilient - The Spirit on the Rooftop at Bold Tendencies, Summer 2020 by Senah Tuma

Summer on the rooftop started off strong: the Bold Tendencies Team and staff of Frank’s Cafe arrived donned with masks and plenty of cleaning fluid. Every year, Bold Tendencies welcomes a diverse group of art trainees to work on site. With unsure beginnings and uncharted territories, with the majority amount of placements and volunteering opportunities cancelled for the year - the group arrived hopeful that these months would be ones to remember. For many of us, this has been our first time back into the everyday world since lockdown began. Encompassing a very resilient spirit, the rooftop opened. Throwing ourselves into an ever-changing environment of hundreds of people feels like a shock to the system; memories of jumping into an ice-cold pool and hoping for the best. The ‘time before’ now is a seemingly distant and other world.

Readapting to socialisation and simultaneously enforcing social distancing rules on site. The site feels normal, but different. The less amount of people has meant, I think, that the trainees have been able to experience the site in a very special way. We have been passed on stories from a life that feels distant - the rooftop with thousands of visitors? Impossible! We have been told that this year is remarkable in that it is quieter than any before, with the usually thousands of visitors now - due to safety regulations -  down to mere hundreds. But somehow, it feels busier than ever before. Months of isolation left the rooftop (like most other car-park rooftops on a good day) feeling silenced. Now, the rooftop is again filled with noise.

The artworks guide people through the space, gently coaxed by social distance signs. On site we are able to engage with the works, explore, and reflect. Many of the works were commissioned not with the Covid-19 world in mind, yet they translate in meaning all the same. An example of meaning translating through time and space is clear in an artwork featured this year: Amber Chamber by Rafał Zajko, which made its exhibition debut as lockdown began. Its original meaning ties into the themes we encounter on site, today. Originally exhibited laying flat down, it touched upon motifs of death and rebirth, past and future. On the rooftop this summer, it now stands upright - a neon orange testament to the summer, revival and rebirth post and mid-Covid. It is inspiring how the meaning of art can apply to personal experiences and such a wide range of experiences and people. It is also inspiring how resilient the site seems to be, I have been struck by it during my time here. In terms of the ways the artworks pull through the weather, or through the limits put up by Covid.

Bold is not only responding to the Covid-19 world, but adapting - during this tumultuous time, Bold has proven itself an outlier - a success. It has proved itself not to just be a place that can survive and respond, but a place that can thrive and overcome difficult circumstances. Covid measures often feel jarring, uncomfortable and simply put: different; on site at the rooftop feels the most normal place that I’ve been to in months. It has successfully managed to integrate ‘Covid cleans’ and social distancing measures in a casual way. Benefited by the towering open-air space, the space feels far removed from the tension of the city below. 

A new dawn brings new hope by Millie Robson

The question of how we move on from our current global situation hangs heavy in the air like a rolling fog. Much like the weather though, situations are changeable; the hopeful message promising ‘a new dawn’ in Jeremy Deller’s large scale poster assures viewers that, from the bleakness of 2020, a new age will rise. This uplifting phrase can be seen across the rooftop, seeming to encapsulate the spirit of Bold Tendencies and the alternative and accessible approach the organisation has to art. 

In the unexplored landscape of social distancing we have found ourselves in, the nostalgic 90s acid rave visuals of Deller’s work allows us to reminisce and take comfort in the familiar graphics from what now feels like a different world. The concept of returning to ‘normal’ life is something that is eagerly discussed and desired for by many, but is that really an achievable or sustainable goal? The term ‘new normal’ seems to be rearing its head as an alternative, but that still seems to imply we will have to compromise our lives. Instead of thinking about compromising our ways of living and working, perhaps we take this time to see this as a chance for development and growth. The rising yellow smile in A New Dawn MMXX suggests that growth is the way forward, and that good times are coming. 

The seemingly dystopian reality we find ourselves in does not mean we should discard our utopian ideals and thinking; instead we should act on these ideals, manifesting them so they become our new reality. The idea of a new dawn offers the opportunity to reset, to reassess and reeducate. 

GANG by Ioana Simion