The main appeal of Present In Public for me was how timely it was, given where I was at in my own life and practice and the wholly integrated and refreshing way in which Tim proposed to work with us to enable us to devise individual works within the context of a group process. This happened over 8 weeks through a series of gift-and-exchange-based tasks and interventions which included us all spending 24 hours together in a ‘research and exchange process’ between the Bluecoat, the streets of Liverpool and his house in Anfield, weekly pairings of artists for the artistic equivalent of co-counseling (my view!), an anonymous blog in which we were all expected to choose another artist’s project and write on it, gifting our perspective while the work was still being formed, and many more playful moments including singing each other to sleep, receiving small gifts from Tim which could be a call to action and writing each other letters as a send-off before the final performance day arrived.
One of our first tasks when we arrived for session one was to take to the streets and indoor spaces of Liverpool on a busy Saturday afternoon with a set of optional research exercises, such as ‘make someone an offer they can’t refuse’, ‘offer something to someone that would be appropriate in a different space but isn’t appropriate where you are’ or ‘be still in the space until something is given to you’. I’ve worked with gift and exchange exercises to create work before, but never ‘naked’, i.e., with no build-up /assistance/materials/reflection time, as in The Gifts (2010), It’s what draws me to live art practice – the light-footed, in-the-moment nature of it.
With a time limit of 3 hours, I decided to go out onto the streets, with the intention to literally be led by my feet and these research exercises foremost in my head… feeling immediately out of my comfort zone and at that time still a smoker, I took out my tobacco and realized I had run out of papers. I went into the local supermarket to get some and at the counter I noticed the lottery ticket stand staring up at me, as if inviting me to action. I never play the lottery, I’m kind of against it in principle. I looked up at the cashier, bought some rizlas, asked for a lottery ticket and found myself offering her the ticket as a gift. She looked at me with a mixture of alarm and bemusement, politely but playfully refusing. ‘But what if it’s a winner?’ I insisted. Her line manager hovered behind her, curtly informing me that employees were not allowed to accept gifts. Of course. The cashier winked at me and joked that if it was a winning ticket, she’d gladly meet me after her shift to split the proceeds and spend them. It became clear that I had to keep the gift moving though and that was what shaped my encounters over the following hours.
