As she kicks off the next creative year, Renee Liang looks back on her interviews with 'cultural storytellers' in 2010 and what drives creative workers.

"They all had a passion for what they did - it was the driving force behind their creative choices, it provided energy to push through whenever things got uncertain, and it was rejuvenated by success."

She also revisits the connections between arts and health and explains what she's up to for the upcoming Auckland Arts Festival and Fringe.

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I love year beginnings.  Mostly they’re lazy, laid back affairs, at least for the first few weeks. And then everyone gets back all at once, snaps into gear, and suddenly, inexplicably it’s February already, and everything’s happening everywhere. It’s times like these that I’m really glad that I write this blog and have the excuse opportunity, as an emerging artist, to engage with creatives I admire.

As I keep mentioning somewhat smugly, Auckland is a wonderful nutrient broth at the moment. New people, established people reinventing themselves, new companies and productions - last year there seemed to be at least two new productions opening every week, and that was just in theatre. And this can only get better - with continuing renovations at the Basement, Q theatre opening this year and a rising groundswell of support to save the St James and to buy back the Mercury theatre.

Last year, I continued my Cultural Storytellers series, interviewing some amazing writers, artists and makers who all had one thing in common - they were dedicated to telling the stories of the communities they identified with.  Although they came from many different disciplines, there were a number of things they had in common.

First, they all had some kind of process by which they made work – Lauren Jackson solves jigsaw puzzles, Renae Maihi places herself inside each character she writes .  Secondly, they had a strong work ethic - realising that not everything will succeed the first time round, but trusting in the practice to eventually bear fruit. Some had an apparently random process and trusted their instincts, others, such as JJ Fong, cited discipline, planning and regular routine. Robbie Ellis even cited having a day job as being conducive to his creative work – “In a sense, it's a lot easier once you have a day-job. You can just block out the time to yourself, sit somewhere with no internet access, and get the writing done. When you're at uni with constant deadline pressure, it's a lot harder.” But all worked extremely hard and saw failure as a step to understanding what would eventually succeed.

Thirdly, and most importantly, they all had a passion for what they did - it was the driving force behind their creative choices, it provided energy to push through whenever things got uncertain, and it was rejuvenated by success. Lynda Chanwai Earle was driven by a need to explore her own family story, and from there tell the stories of her community that had been “buried”. Chris Malloy wrote his play The Last Taniwha prompted by a news article on domestic violence in Maori families, and with the aim of opening up dialogue within the community.  His respect and engagement with Maori tikanga meant the story could be told within the shelter of marae, and within a Maori cultural framework.

Recently I also became interested in exploring stories to do with Arts and Health.  This is one of my pet topics, sitting as it does on the intersection of my careers. I am not the only one to mix it up, and this should tell you something. Perhaps Rahul Gandhi expressed it best when he (rather humbly) said he was “a student of the human condition - in its subtle forms.” Both writing and medicine are like that for me.  It’s how I express what I see every day, how I respond to it.  And maybe, occasionally, hope to influence it.

Health as defined holistically by the World Health Organisation in 1946 is “a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.” And if you put it like that, there is much that arts and medicine can do to help each other (not forgetting that at one time they were aspects of the same thing).  

To prove this, I talked to Bernadette Brewer of Toi Ora Arts Trust about how providing access to the arts for people with mental illness can bring many benefits and grow a community. “Toi Ora is an inclusive art space … the artists are usually people who have had some experience of mental illness at some stage in their lives… (the guiding principles are) non judgmental, safe, art space to explore your creativity and build art collaborations, projects, work on skills, develop friendships.” 

Stuart Young said of his work Hush (a piece of documentary theatre) that “Some found it very affirming to have their stories (re)told and believed. All felt it was very important to share their stories as a way of increasing awareness and debate regarding family violence.” I’ll be continuing with more stories this year. But for related ideas, keep watching the Connections page for stories and resources on Creative Community Development (CCD).

This year, I’ll continue many of the threads I started last year.  I start by highlighting many of the astonishing ideas and artists taking part in the Auckland Fringe and Auckland Festival.  As well as interviewing some of them for this blog, I’ll also be highlighting some shows on a twice-weekly special Festival feature, Backstage, starting in a few weeks. I can't wait!