11-14 IAM8-06 Spotlight
27/3/12
17:00
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spotlight 13 Earlier this year composer Mark Anthony Turnage premièred Beyond This, a work performed by 15 prisoners in conjunction with Music in Prisons, a charity which delivers creative music projects in prisons. For the arts organisations involved, it’s challenging work. British prisons are overcrowded, violent and soulless places with high rates of suicide. And when inmates finish their sentences, they are often faced with few job prospects and little support from the community – reoffending is rife; two in five adults commit another crime within a year of their release, reportedly costing the government between £9.5bn (€11.45bn) and £13bn each year. However, recent research from Arts Alliance, the national body for the promotion of arts in the criminal justice sector, based on the results of three organisations currently working with offenders, shows that artsbased interventions can dramatically reduce rates of reoffending. Only Connect, a theatre group for prisoners and ex-offenders based in London, is one such company. The expected rates of reoffending for those taking part in its projects has more than halved due to the charity’s intervention. Originally 57.5 per cent of prisoners were expected to reoffend, but this has been cut to an expected 25.9 per cent following involvement with OC. Such initiatives appear to make good financial sense too; for every £1 invested in projects like these, the taxpayer saves around £4.50. But what is it about the performing arts that has the capacity to really change lives for the better? Easton has his own theory – he believes that music education can be used as a vehicle to instil basic life skills that can then be applied in the real world.The mantra of the Thorn Cross project relies upon a number of core principles: certainty, variety, esteem, friendship and learning. ‘It’s about replicating principles that most of us had when we were young, from teachers and family, but they’re principles that weren’t there for these lads,’ Easton explains after the session. It’s easy to see why the group looks up to him; he doesn’t preach or patronise, he fervently believes in his method. He also has faith in the young players, many of who became involved in violence and drugs, and often lacked positive male role models. Easton teaches that the first step is simply staying focused, sticking at it. ‘They get some ribbing about being involved,’ says Easton, ‘and consistency is the name of the game here.’ After his first session, Dave didn’t want to come back, he explains, but after seeing the others rehearse, he eventually picked up his instrument and got stuck in. ‘He had to decide which pain was bigger – going back to the block and maybe being mocked, or missing out all together.’ ‘There’s no hierarchy for this like there might be for something like football,’ adds John Platt, who’s in charge of learning and skills at Thorn Cross. ‘There are no more than two lads, if that, who have come into the project already skilled. They’re all on a similar playing field, so it strips away egos.’ ‘They’re naked in front of us, really, and that’s what they fear most,’ Easton continues.‘Dave epitomises this for me; he’s had to be extra hard and horrendous growing up. He’s gained esteem through being a pain, and his peers have been impressed by that. It’s about turning that confidence into something positive.’ That’s why every session starts and ends with a handshake, a common courtesy that immediately establishes mutual respect, explains Christopher Lydon, a musician in the National Youth Orchestra of Great Britain, and the third member of Easton’s team. ‘We also use their first names,’ he says. ‘The officers only call them by their last name and it dehumanises them in a way. We treat them with respect, treat them like adults, and that’s what they give back to us.’ What Easton provides too is unconditional encouragement – crucial for building real confidence. ‘They don’t even necessarily like classical music or know about it,’ Platt says, ‘but one session they were listening to a cassette of Nessun dorma. They asked “why can’t we play that?” The answer wasn’t, “because it’s too hard”. It was, “sure, let’s take it piece by piece, section by section”.’ Everything about the project encourages perseverance, patience, respect, commitment and confidence. All this is geared towards longterm rehabilitation. ‘This is a resettlement prison,’ says Platt. ‘We’re easing the lads back into society, preparing them for employment, with thinking skills so they can make better decisions next time. The Hallé complements those ideals.’ The group performs a public concert about once every 15 weeks at Thorn Cross, inviting members of the local community, a largely
retired belt in rural Cheshire. ‘They play four pieces, then the Hallé brass quintet plays four pieces,’ says Platt. ‘That’s their platform. They’re suited and booted, and that’s their Royal Albert Hall on the last night of the Proms. They’ve stood up in front of their parents and their girlfriends and got massive applause.’
‘Some of the worst crack addicts are the best actors - because it meets that craving for excitement’ A recent concert was held for the European Prison Education Association’s conference in Manchester.‘Potential employers heard them perform, they gave a standing ovation,’ Easton recalls,‘not for the quality of the music but because they were tackling it.You sensed that they were thinking, that’s someone I would employ.’ ‘People ask me why I do this,’ Easton continues. ‘If it contributes in some way, to John’s work, to stop reoffending then that’s great.’ He says that because the cost of housing an offender at Thorn Cross is so high, reaching just one person and ensuring they don’t reoffend makes the project worthwhile. Across the country, 200 miles away, in the basement of a former Baptist church in north London, a very different group of people gather. Some lounge on mismatched sofas, others are caught up in a game of pool, while another group loudly discusses politics, gender stereotypes and theatre. This is the relaxed environment of Only Connect’s members’ club. One of three success stories of the Arts Alliance study, OC is an organisation based in King’s Cross that views prisoners, ex-offenders and young people at risk of crime as assets, not liabilities – and aims to encourage individuals to use their talents to help both themselves and the community. The organisation is made up of three parts: OC Create’s 130 members (many of who are ex-offenders) produce and perform original theatre, film and music. OC Impact is a crime prevention programme, where members work with the Metropolitan Police in London’s schools and youth groups to reach out to teens in danger of committing crimes by using arts-based projects, personal stories and one-to-one support. OC Belong is a club for ex-offenders, essentially a homely environment that provides an encouraging space to chat, relax, create. Maggie Norris, the artistic director of OC Create, leads the way into the quieter space of the club’s newly installed recording booth so we can talk. Why does she think OC has been so successful at preventing reoffending? ‘A lot of the young men we’ve met, who have been in trouble, and inside, lack a strong family base,’ she says. ‘We provide a family, a place of security and safety.We support them in everything that they’re trying to do; that might be helping with housing or benefits, relationship problems, getting a job. Once you’re a member, you’re a member for life. There’s a real community here, there’s great camaraderie between the guys.’ This noisy, boisterous but ultimately supportive family is the launch pad for creating truly provocative, expressive theatre. ‘What I’ve been trying to do here is produce work that is incredibly exciting and that stands out in the world of theatre,’ Norris says.‘When we have the critics in, I don’t want them to be thinking this is going to be some kind of substandard naff community theatre, but actually this is very exciting. I have very high expectations of the members and they massively deliver.’ Last year Norris directed His Teeth, the dark but witty story of an illegal immigrant struggling to get by in London’s criminal underworld. Written by the Bruntwood prizewinning playwright Ben Musgrave, who was inspired by the experiences of ex-offender and OC member Ralph Ojotu, it was performed by five OC members and one professional actress. The members have a powerful bond with the material, says Norris. Acting out their own stories, choices or mistakes is far more affective than performing Wilde or Shakespeare. ‘We’ve also found that there is a massive correlation between creativity and bad behaviour,’ Norris adds. ‘Some of the worst crack addicts are the best actors because it meets that craving for excitement, but channels it in a different way. A lot of people we work with just haven’t had the opportunity to do something that is stimulating and exciting in a completely different way – and so when given the opportunity, they’re quite knocked sideways by it.’ This kind of theatre demands a ruthless, often gruelling, self-reflection
29.03.12–13.04.12 INTERNATIONALARTSMANAGER.COM