Gwithian Chapel Residency

DAY 1

Today is the first day of a two week residency in Gwithian Chapel. The invitation from Falmouth University is deliberately open. Simply to use the space in whatever way feels appropriate, with the possibility of perhaps a talk, or an opportunity for people to come and see what has been happening here.

The chapel feels very different from the Mortuary Chapel in Bath where I exhibited last year. That building carries the weight of time quite visibly. It sits within a graveyard and has an atmosphere shaped by it's previous use, age and partial neglect. Ivy pushes through the windows. Some of the glass is cracked. The building feels slightly forgotten. Being inside it creates an immediate sense of history and quietness.

Gwithian Chapel has a very different character. It feels like a space that is still part of everyday life in the village. The building has the feeling of a community hall or a place that continues to be used and cared for. Because of that, it does not immediately present itself as sacred in the same way older chapels or temples sometimes do.

Yet sitting here in silence today, I noticed that sacredness is not necessarily architectural. It can appear in much smaller ways. In quietness. In the act of pausing. In small devotional gestures that shift how a space is experienced.

Shortly after arriving, I lit some incense. The act felt instinctive. A small ritual to mark the beginning of time in the space. There are small hints of something contemplative in the space. The chapel is very quiet. From inside I can hear birds outside, and otherwise there is mostly silence. The pews are still here, along with small chairs and the old hymn board where numbers are slotted in to  hymn board. These small details are a reminder that the building has a long history as a place for gathering and reflection, even though it is now used as a community space, open to all and all faiths.

​Sitting here I became very aware of the stillness of the room. It feels like a privilege to be given this space for two weeks, knowing that I can sit here, work slowly and not feel rushed or interrupted.

I brought a selection of works and materials from my studio, but I arrived without a clear plan. I do not want this residency to become an exercise in making more things for the sake of it. Instead it feels important that this time becomes a space for reflection. A way of thinking through where the work is going and what its purpose might be.

Perhaps something as small as lighting incense, sitting quietly or arranging objects with care can begin to shift how a space is experienced.

There is also the larger question that often appears in sacred spaces. What is the point? That question has been present today as well, connected to the uncertainty I am feeling about the direction of my work, not to mention the wider issues going on in the world that are beyond overwhelming. Perhaps the residency itself can hold that question rather than answer it.

For now the most important thing is simply to sit in the space, observe it and allow ideas to emerge slowly. Today has been about arriving, marking the space with a small ritual and noticing the first threads of thought. Quadrats (more on that tomorrow) sacredness, silence, fragments of the studio and the ongoing question of purpose.

Nothing needs to be resolved yet. It is enough to begin by paying attention.