Making Community at The National Festival of Making
Today we had the first and not quite final performances of a brand new mini-show, created entirely by the young people of Blackburn over the last few weeks, commissioned by and performed at the second National Festival of Making in Blackburn.
Over the last two (? maybe more?) years I’ve been working occasionally in Blackburn, supporting Community Music projects and trying to join them together across sometimes deeply divided communities. All the time with varying degrees of success. This work is now in its final stages with music hub restructurings forcing a rethinking on outreach and Community Music work in the town.
These two years have been hard. Working long-term, afar from a community is really difficult, especially when your role is for the most part in the background. You are stripped of the wider community context, relying fully on second hand information to inform decision making, content and planning. Working hard but ultimately hoping that your enthusiasm for the project is matched somewhere on the ground and that you have the right gatekeepers. Especially in a town that, like many Northern industrial (or ex-industrial) towns, is full of hyper-local issues and hyper-local communities.
The thing that I have learnt:
The thing that I think I knew anyway, or at least I hope I did:
Inclusion, beyond all else, is what is important.
It is the only way to work in Communities.
It is not the aim of Community Music.
But at its heart.
Good Community Music is Inclusion in practice.
(That last sentence is misremembered from somewhere, but I can’t remember where…)
This show that we have made, for me is symbolic of all the work in Blackburn over the last two years. It has been really difficult, but full of glorious moments of triumph and beauty. The final product is almost fragile, reliant absolutely on every single individual in the group (the majority never performing before) whilst also being nothing without the whole. In the first performance nerves got the better of us. The second reenergised and saw lightening tempos and resilience. We are, as a community pulled from as diverse a population as it’s almost possible to conceive in Blackburn, finding our feet, finding our place through the music and performance. Tomorrow we plan to play and celebrate.
We are:
- three generations of community elders, parents, leaders, children
- refugees performing for the first time
- young choir singers becoming soloists
- dhol drummers from 3 separate communities
- a Year 6 samba drummer who we lost contact with for a year, who saw the Festival was in town, Googled it on her phone this morning, guessed at a meeting time, got the bus on her own, and was amazing. “Cause it were brilliant. I’ve been waiting all year”.
Between arguments about Jaffa Cakes, Teacakes and how to pronounce Bourbons on our Thursday devising sessions we made some music. A memory that I am sure will never leave me is the first time we sung our song while marching around the room on that first evening. It was breath-taking and poignant and real.
More Music’s work combined with the groups inspiration of The National Festival of Making enabled it.
The openness and generosity from everyone there, from different communities, cultures, countries made it.
For me, the heart of the project was in that moment but now we have to share it.
A festival allows you to draw focus but the real trick is making it last.
To pass it on.
If you’re in Blackburn tomorrow come and see us and sing with us. We’re on at 2.30pm and 4pm by the towering trumpets.
“Let’s sing together, 1, 2, 3,
Love and equality.”
“We’re all different but we’re part of the human race.”