kept the characters very separate so that you knew who was saying what. However the others felt that as soon as there were more than 3 people in a scene it got complicated, which is why the app uses the prose format. When we were in the sessions, I think we felt like a community to some extent, but as soon as we disbanded for the month or two till the next sessions, it became difficult to keep up the momentum of a community. The use of social media to try and continue the community discussion was a good idea in theory, however, as we were using a platform especially for the project rather than something we would use regularly anyway, it meant that many people wouldn’t go onto it enough and conversations were limited. However, as soon as the group came back together, there were no issues about working as a community. There were a couple of people that I got to know during the labs, as they were the ones who came to most of the sessions too. Going for drinks after the sessions also helped the group bond a bit more and allowed us to talk about things other than the project! I loved seeing the progress of the app, coming in and trying new things, then reporting back to the team. The last few sessions were the most rewarding, as we could really see how our input had affected the app. I think it’s hard to keep tracks of what were an individual’s ideas and what came out as a process of discussion. I think a lot of us had very similar idea and in the discussion process the ideas all merged into one and it became a community thought rather than an individual.
Who owns this stuff? Reflections on a Lab. Paul Egglestone
There’s palpable excitement as the Community Lab gather in a small gallery space to get a first glimpse of the fruits of their collective labour. Bottles and glasses scatter across the table between dips and tortilla chips. The gentle hum of conversation occasionally gives way to laughter and cheery hellos as stragglers move through the adjacent coffee shop to join the group. There are introductions, and it soon becomes apparent that not everybody knows each other. There have been two groups taking part in the Community Labs and this is the first time they have been brought together. There is talk of producing the book that you are reading this account in. There is talk of a London launch for the new platform. The offer of free tickets for the opening performance of The Noise was received with audible enthusiasm. Then, choreographed like the dénouement of any play, the curtain lifts on the main event. As with almost any technology ‘reveal’, there are the usual explanations of what features are still to be added. There are also the customary demonstrations of proposed development routes, which demand a little imagination to ‘magic’ the concept prototypes into life. There is a look of satisfaction on almost every face in the room as they see the results of the workshops where they tried to visualise what this evening might look like. It now looks like a successful collaboration between the audience, a theatre company and technologists who together have produced new work, a new way of presenting it and an inclusive process to enable this: the creation of a Community Lab. As the formal proceedings draw to a close, there is opportunity for people to speak openly about the process without the presence of the people who had driven it by virtue of having won the money to deliver a project. Beyond the earshot of the project team, those remaining in the gallery space talk about the Community Lab. They recount their initial meetings. They express their feelings about how well they have been treated by the project team. They wonder about how they were – or have become – a ‘community’ in any real sense of the word. And they ask directly who owns what they have collectively produced.