This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/society/2013/aug/28/venice-biennale-prisoners-exhibition-iraq

The article has changed 3 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
War frames: prisoners depict their experiences in Iraq at the Venice Biennale War frames: prisoners depict their experiences in Iraq at the Venice Biennale
(about 11 hours later)
The theme of social justice – and injustice – looms large in Jeremy Deller's British pavilion at the Venice Biennale, the world's most important contemporary art event. The artworks inside the imposing white building in the Giardini include a mural of the Victorian social reformer William Morris hurling the vast yacht of Russian oligarch Roman Abramovich into the waves.The theme of social justice – and injustice – looms large in Jeremy Deller's British pavilion at the Venice Biennale, the world's most important contemporary art event. The artworks inside the imposing white building in the Giardini include a mural of the Victorian social reformer William Morris hurling the vast yacht of Russian oligarch Roman Abramovich into the waves.
A less publicised aspect of Deller's exploration of social injustice is a room of drawings in the exhibition by imprisoned ex-servicemen that examines the Iraq war. The pictures by inmates of Shotts, Everthorpe and Parc prisons include portraits of those embroiled in the scandal over Iraq's supposed weapons of mass destruction. Alongside them are displayed disturbing images of scenes remembered by those who fought in the conflict, such as a sniper's view of the southern Iraqi city of Basra, a soldier with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) hiding under his bed, Iraqi civilians executed by al-Qaida on suspicion of being British informants, and two soldiers smoking crack in Wellington barracks, London, before deployment.A less publicised aspect of Deller's exploration of social injustice is a room of drawings in the exhibition by imprisoned ex-servicemen that examines the Iraq war. The pictures by inmates of Shotts, Everthorpe and Parc prisons include portraits of those embroiled in the scandal over Iraq's supposed weapons of mass destruction. Alongside them are displayed disturbing images of scenes remembered by those who fought in the conflict, such as a sniper's view of the southern Iraqi city of Basra, a soldier with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) hiding under his bed, Iraqi civilians executed by al-Qaida on suspicion of being British informants, and two soldiers smoking crack in Wellington barracks, London, before deployment.
Struck by the fact that one in 10 ex-servicemen are prisoners, a year ago the artist turned to the Koestler Trust, a charity that has been promoting arts in the British criminal justice system for more than 50 years, to find former soldiers to participate in the pavilion. He initiated the collaboration by bringing the prisoners photographs of some of the public figures caught up in the invasion of Iraq, and their discussion about them led to the men also recounting their personal experiences of fighting in Iraq, Afghanistan and Northern Ireland.Struck by the fact that one in 10 ex-servicemen are prisoners, a year ago the artist turned to the Koestler Trust, a charity that has been promoting arts in the British criminal justice system for more than 50 years, to find former soldiers to participate in the pavilion. He initiated the collaboration by bringing the prisoners photographs of some of the public figures caught up in the invasion of Iraq, and their discussion about them led to the men also recounting their personal experiences of fighting in Iraq, Afghanistan and Northern Ireland.
Deller says: "The reason I used prisoners is because this work is about the nature of criminality. I thought it was a good idea to have [the likes of Blair, Campbell and the former head of MI6 John Scarlett] drawn by people who'd been on the receiving end of their decisions. It was about inverting the power process. If you are in prison you have no power. And most of those characters still are very powerful.Deller says: "The reason I used prisoners is because this work is about the nature of criminality. I thought it was a good idea to have [the likes of Blair, Campbell and the former head of MI6 John Scarlett] drawn by people who'd been on the receiving end of their decisions. It was about inverting the power process. If you are in prison you have no power. And most of those characters still are very powerful.
"So, on the one hand, you have a very traditional portrait gallery of men who have been involved in [pursuing] the war, or victims of the war like Reg Keys, whose son [Lance Corporal Tom Keys] was killed in Iraq – people on the receiving end, like some of the soldiers were. Then you have very personal images that give you a little insight into daily life in the army. They all had strange little stories or vignettes. They just drew those and I encouraged that.""So, on the one hand, you have a very traditional portrait gallery of men who have been involved in [pursuing] the war, or victims of the war like Reg Keys, whose son [Lance Corporal Tom Keys] was killed in Iraq – people on the receiving end, like some of the soldiers were. Then you have very personal images that give you a little insight into daily life in the army. They all had strange little stories or vignettes. They just drew those and I encouraged that."
Chris, 37, a former member of the Royal Highland Fusiliers who served in Bosnia and Northern Ireland, now imprisoned in HMP Shotts, Scotland, had not done any drawing before getting involved in the British pavilion project. But he was keen to participate because he "wanted to show people that military life is not all glamorous like the TV recruitment ads".Chris, 37, a former member of the Royal Highland Fusiliers who served in Bosnia and Northern Ireland, now imprisoned in HMP Shotts, Scotland, had not done any drawing before getting involved in the British pavilion project. But he was keen to participate because he "wanted to show people that military life is not all glamorous like the TV recruitment ads".
"To have the chance to put all of this down as some form of art seemed like a worthwhile challenge," he says. "I have done absolutely no art in the past – I struggle to draw stick men!""To have the chance to put all of this down as some form of art seemed like a worthwhile challenge," he says. "I have done absolutely no art in the past – I struggle to draw stick men!"
He chose to make charcoal drawings of Rupert Murdoch because he felt the tabloids and tabloid journalists bore great responsibility for the invasion of Iraq. "Unfortunately I think they sometimes live by the motto 'never let the truth come in the way of a good story'. I felt by drawing Rupert Murdoch the public may think about the role of a man, who is arguably the world's largest media figurehead, in the war in the Middle East. I have lost three good friends to the Middle East conflict and I have spoken to people who had first-hand knowledge of their deaths. On all three situations the tabloids were a million miles from the truth."He chose to make charcoal drawings of Rupert Murdoch because he felt the tabloids and tabloid journalists bore great responsibility for the invasion of Iraq. "Unfortunately I think they sometimes live by the motto 'never let the truth come in the way of a good story'. I felt by drawing Rupert Murdoch the public may think about the role of a man, who is arguably the world's largest media figurehead, in the war in the Middle East. I have lost three good friends to the Middle East conflict and I have spoken to people who had first-hand knowledge of their deaths. On all three situations the tabloids were a million miles from the truth."
Another drawing done by a former veteran of the Iraq war called Gary, now in Parc prison in Bridgend, south Wales, shows a man under a bed dressed in Calvin Klein boxers, a flak jacket and a helmet. Deller says: "This was what they had to do every night when he was in Basra. They'd be mortared, which is a form of sleep deprivation. As soon as they heard the rounds coming in they had to jump under their bed. And that was like a Pavlovian reaction. And he said he still did that when he heard bangs in the prison. So that's a sort of PTSD moment."Another drawing done by a former veteran of the Iraq war called Gary, now in Parc prison in Bridgend, south Wales, shows a man under a bed dressed in Calvin Klein boxers, a flak jacket and a helmet. Deller says: "This was what they had to do every night when he was in Basra. They'd be mortared, which is a form of sleep deprivation. As soon as they heard the rounds coming in they had to jump under their bed. And that was like a Pavlovian reaction. And he said he still did that when he heard bangs in the prison. So that's a sort of PTSD moment."
The title of the room of drawings is You Have the Watches, We Have the Time, a Taliban saying that reflects their confidence that both God and time are on their side in the Afghan war. But this also evokes the situation of the former soldiers now serving time in prison. Chris hopes the involvement of ex-military personnel in the project will highlight how many former soldiers there are in the prison system and provoke the government to take a serious look into the reasons why this is the case.The title of the room of drawings is You Have the Watches, We Have the Time, a Taliban saying that reflects their confidence that both God and time are on their side in the Afghan war. But this also evokes the situation of the former soldiers now serving time in prison. Chris hopes the involvement of ex-military personnel in the project will highlight how many former soldiers there are in the prison system and provoke the government to take a serious look into the reasons why this is the case.
Deller adds that the title also speaks of the frustration and apathy of prison life. He says: "You might think the army and prison would be similar with the rules and regulations. But in army life in Afghanistan, you're out in the open, in these huge spaces and you have this exciting daily life and you never know what's going to happen next. Whereas in prison, you more or less know what's going to happen every day. There's still danger, but on the whole it's the monotony of daily life.Deller adds that the title also speaks of the frustration and apathy of prison life. He says: "You might think the army and prison would be similar with the rules and regulations. But in army life in Afghanistan, you're out in the open, in these huge spaces and you have this exciting daily life and you never know what's going to happen next. Whereas in prison, you more or less know what's going to happen every day. There's still danger, but on the whole it's the monotony of daily life.
"But I found the [prison] art rooms were always the happiest places, where people had some sort of control over their immediate environment, where they could make art and could finally do things they were not able to do outside of prison, ironically.""But I found the [prison] art rooms were always the happiest places, where people had some sort of control over their immediate environment, where they could make art and could finally do things they were not able to do outside of prison, ironically."
Tim Robertson, chief executive of the Koestler Trust, said the project had helped some prisoners come to terms with their military traumas. "One of the Everthorpe men was an older prisoner who had been in the army and had been in and out of prison over a number of years and was now serving a long sentence. The prison described him as someone who did not engage with services – psychological support, education, etc – but he agreed to take part in the project. He started drawing the experience of serving in Northern Ireland. He stood up in the art class and showed everyone a drawing of an explosion that had left him traumatised and he said it was the best thing he'd ever done. He's stayed in the art class and is now talking about his experience."Tim Robertson, chief executive of the Koestler Trust, said the project had helped some prisoners come to terms with their military traumas. "One of the Everthorpe men was an older prisoner who had been in the army and had been in and out of prison over a number of years and was now serving a long sentence. The prison described him as someone who did not engage with services – psychological support, education, etc – but he agreed to take part in the project. He started drawing the experience of serving in Northern Ireland. He stood up in the art class and showed everyone a drawing of an explosion that had left him traumatised and he said it was the best thing he'd ever done. He's stayed in the art class and is now talking about his experience."
Deller's collaboration with the prisoners has also led to a new partnership between the British Council, which commissions the British pavilion, and the Koestler Trust. Earlier this month, eight ex-offenders, who are past-prize winners in the charity's art awards, travelled to Venice as part of an education initiative. Accompanied by Koestler staff, they visited the city's major museums and galleries and met Deller and toured the biennale. They were asked to keep a visual diary of the trip and will be making art work or a piece of writing in response to the experience. Andrea Rose, director of visual arts at the British Council, says: "For us it's a way to promote the social ideals of the pavilion."Deller's collaboration with the prisoners has also led to a new partnership between the British Council, which commissions the British pavilion, and the Koestler Trust. Earlier this month, eight ex-offenders, who are past-prize winners in the charity's art awards, travelled to Venice as part of an education initiative. Accompanied by Koestler staff, they visited the city's major museums and galleries and met Deller and toured the biennale. They were asked to keep a visual diary of the trip and will be making art work or a piece of writing in response to the experience. Andrea Rose, director of visual arts at the British Council, says: "For us it's a way to promote the social ideals of the pavilion."
Among those who went to Venice was Steve Ellis, 37, who is about to start the second year of a fine art degree at Leeds University. A former addict, he says studying art while at HMP Everthorpe, in the East Riding of Yorkshire, helped him get clean and sort out his life. Ellis found Deller's pavilion and the art of the former soldiers, one of whom he met at a prison art class, "powerful and honest". "You automatically put yourself in the place of the individual [prisoners], you're almost there with them," he says. "The British pavilion is about people and society and highlights how art as a subject can help people and society. It's about social inclusion, social injustice – it will help break down pre-conceptions about offenders." Among those who went to Venice was Steve Ellis, 37, who is about to start the second year of a fine art degree at Leeds College of Art. A former addict, he says studying art while at HMP Everthorpe, in the East Riding of Yorkshire, helped him get clean and sort out his life. Ellis found Deller's pavilion and the art of the former soldiers, one of whom he met at a prison art class, "powerful and honest". "You automatically put yourself in the place of the individual [prisoners], you're almost there with them," he says. "The British pavilion is about people and society and highlights how art as a subject can help people and society. It's about social inclusion, social injustice – it will help break down pre-conceptions about offenders."
• Jeremy Deller's pavilion, English Magic, is at the Venice Biennale until 24 Nov and will tour nationally in 2014. A related display, with works by the prisoners, is at the British Council Gallery, Spring Gardens, London until 21 Sept. www.britishcouncil.org/visualarts• Jeremy Deller's pavilion, English Magic, is at the Venice Biennale until 24 Nov and will tour nationally in 2014. A related display, with works by the prisoners, is at the British Council Gallery, Spring Gardens, London until 21 Sept. www.britishcouncil.org/visualarts