And so much bad in the best of us,

That it hardly behooves any of us

To talk about the rest of us.”

Anonymous

As I came to the end of my tour of the Koestler Exhibition with a group of prisoners’ family members, this quote greeted me and stayed with me.

It is so easy for us to pass judgement on those of society who are imprisoned, whether that judgement be about the crimes for which they have been convicted or our perceptions of their possible character and personality. The artwork on display at the Koestler Exhibition told many stories; some reflected the artist’s surroundings and current reality, others tried to give a glimpse of some of the confusion and pain going on inside the artist’s mind and still others had a playful, carefree element to them.

This was a special day as it was the only day where the families of those, whose work was displayed, could visit the exhibition and see their loved ones’ artwork. Where they could experience a place where there was no judgement of their brother’s, sister’s, aunt’s, uncle’s, mum’s or dad’s negative situations but a place where there could be intelligent, interesting conversation and genuine appreciation of the creativity and messages portrayed.

“It is his gift to us”, said one sister who was visibly moved when she stood in front of her brother’s piece of work. Other family members laughed and joked and fought back tears when they could proudly show off their loved one’s work.

Many of them had travelled from all over the UK to visit the exhibition. Michael Varah Memorial Fund supported the Family Day which enables many family members, who otherwise would not be able to afford it, to visit London and the South Bank and have a day specially for them.

During our tour we attracted a few people who were not part of the family day but were intrigued to hear the interpretations of the work and to know more about the exhibition.

It was a privilege to be part of the Family Day, to have conversations with family members and have a better understanding of things from their perspective. They are often forgotten and we must remember that, for many family members, the love they feel for their relative is still strong and real and that they often suffer because of the stigma attached to someone in the family being in prison.

The quote above that resonated with me was etched onto an engraving by a prisoner. I thought about the time it must have taken for him or her to make that engraving and what they might have been thinking about as they etched.

by Emma-Sue Prince, MVMF Board Adviser

The staging, direction and performances combine to create a moving story which engages both brain and heart.  The actors are well cast and professional; in fact in some cases it is impossible to tell which are professional actors and which OC members.  Their energy and physicality is outstanding. The knowledge that some have a very real understanding of the material and lives on which the play is based adds to the play’s impact. Junior ‘Milla’ Miller, as corrupt, menacing Derek, brought a real sense of danger to the stage.

The play is set in the round; the action taking place within a screened box which provides distance between audience and action.  This works well in the small auditoria, enabling the audience to observe without feeling encroached upon. The use of projection onto the screened walls, allowing all sides of the audience to see the actors close-up in monologues, gives a televisual effect, which is in keeping with the contemporary nature of the subject matter.

The workshop roots of the piece are evident.  Despite regular projections of the date onto the stage, it is difficult to grasp a sense of the time lapses between scenes.  As a result, events occur at a such a pace that the trajectory feels slightly unreal. Given the enormity of the issues addressed, I didn’t feel that it needed the very slight subplot of the police officer, and his attraction to Sarah. 

In many ways His Teeth would make a great television drama – the time lapses, the use of detective story and  CCTV, the multitude of stories and voices.  It is certainly a story that needs to be heard and understood by a wider audience. I left with my eyes opened to situations, probably happening right now, nearby, to which I am usually blind.

by Emily Standring, MVMF Events Committee

The disabled young adults who went to High Down each day worked with some of the prisoners, under the guidance of Richard Stilgoe (who founded Orpheus) and a couple of his brilliant musical assistants, to write songs.  These were recorded and each of the prisoners got a CD to send to their family.  They also sang them all at a concert on the last day of the visit. It was very enjoyable and moving, with a lot of singing and playing skills from all the performers.  Many of the songs were very personal, about much missed children, partners, friends and even a dog. One song about what they were not going to miss about life in prison got a lot of laughs from the inmates, who formed the majority of the audience.

A quote from the day I particularly remember. One of the Orpheus staff said that it only took a couple of days for one of the prisoners to articulate the thought that he would be able to walk out of High Down next year, but the guy he’d worked with from Orpheus, in a wheelchair, had a life sentence.

Desmond McCann, MVMF supporter

We were fortunate to visit The Clink Restaurant at High Down Prison recently, and to say we were pleasantly surprised is an under-statement. After undergoing security checks, we were led to a stylishly decorated and very comfortable dining area.  The three course meal we enjoyed was on a par with any top London establishment, and the waiting staff – all prisoners – were well trained, efficient and attentive as well as being very forthcoming with their stories as to how they aspired to working in The Clink, hopefully preparing for a profession they hoped to pursue on their release. The Prison Governor, Peter Dawson, introduced Head Chef, Al Crisci,the inspiration behind the original scheme who undoubtedly has given back self esteem and belief to those prisoners working with him.

The MVMF had funded a resettlement programme with The Geese Theatre Group at High Down and after lunch Geese demonstrated a role play from that workshop. It was simple in its execution but very powerful.  An actor played the part a prisoner would normally take.  He had a mask which he wore while the rest of the group (in this case the diners) posed questions to establish some background about his life in and out of prison.  He then briefly mimed coming out of prison and waiting for his partner to pick him up.  He was  asked about his feelings, which he answered with some bravado from behind his mask. He was confident about his girlfriend coming, meeting his mates in the pub, the welcome he would get from his children.

He then raised the mask and answered the question with his true inner feelings. Would his partner come?  They had quarrelled at her last visit.  Could he get home on the bus? How could he find a job?  The questions went on, each being answered with the mask down, then raised.  It was a very moving insight. One of the prisoners who had taken part in the Geese sessions spoke of how he had benefited from the MVMF funding of this resettlement programme.

Wendy Mundie, MVMF supporter

We had the chance to meet the group, including the artists who had painted the MVMF Christmas Cards.  They had come from disparate backgrounds but had bonded into a very supportive group, calling themselves ‘Sisters in Art’.  Through their work they said how much they had learned about giving support and encouragement to each other.  And individually they felt the opportunity to express themselves on canvas was a very fulfilling experience.

We were encouraged to buy a painting but, while much of the work was very interesting, I have to admit there was an element of the artist working out their own angst in a lot of the work.  We did not feel that we wanted to live with most of the pictures on a daily basis but independently we both chose a pastoral scene in yellows, browns and golds of what could be slightly abstract birds over a ripening field of corn. We were somewhat surprised when the artist, Claire, told us its title was ‘Before The Bomb 1′. Nevertheless, it hangs in our kitchen and we like it very much.

Clare McCann, MVMF supporter