Pride, responsibility learnt behind bars

Robyn Hughes sits before one of her paintings at her home in Auckland. Photo / Greg Bowker.

Artist Robyn Hughes has been going to prison for 17 years. On the eve of receiving an award for her work, she tells Adam Gifford why it was worth doing the time

What was she in for?" someone asked when I mentioned I was writing about Robyn Hughes' prison art work.

Like many people in prison, she fell into it. But at the end of each session at Paremoremo, Hughes cleaned up the brushes, locked up the acrylic paint and headed back over the bridge.

Now that she's stepped down from the tutoring job she did for 17 years, Hughes is to be honoured for prison arts leadership in Arts Access Aotearoa's annual Big "A" awards, which celebrates the achievements of individuals and organisations working to enhance the artistic lives of people who have been marginalised.

The awards will be presented in the Grand Hall at Parliament next Wednesday evening.

The art in prison programmes are categorised by the Corrections Service as "constructive activity" and Hughes would do two sessions on Wednesdays, with groups working on specific projects, and an open class on Fridays.

She described it as a collaboration with the art committee, a group of prisoners who took responsibility for organising the sessions.

Over the years, she has had other tutors working alongside her at various times and she's also invited friends and colleagues from the Elam art school to contribute.

She took it on as a short-term role in 1993 just after coming back from overseas, alongside another part-time job teaching printmaking at Elam, and found herself attracted by the challenge.

Opportunities emerged to do exhibitions, such as last month's Inside Out show at the Mairangi Arts Centre on the North Shore, and the group has also provided a large number of artworks for Auckland Hospital's new buildings.

"That evolved because the art committee at the time was so strong and it suggested we do something to give back to the community," Hughes said.

Flexibility is needed to work in a prison because the environment is always changing. She says inmates understand the kaupapa set for behaviour in the prison's education sector and adhere to it.

"If they don't, the art class could be closed. You always adhere to the rules carefully so you can do things. If not, you lose opportunities and they treasure those opportunities."

Hughes said she saw her role as a facilitator, bringing ideas or fragments of art history to the room. "There was only two hours, including opening and closing with karakia. I'd present something of interest to get the day's energy going, support it happening and then clean up afterwards.

"People said they enjoyed Fridays because it was go, go, go and then out of there. It amazed me the amount of work that came out of there."

Hughes said the men brought different levels of understanding to the sessions. "Some had knowledge or experience of art through their family or their own experience, others would not have thought previously about doing things that were creative.

"The art class gave a possibility, an opening that people could come on and take up that possibility in a closed environment.

"It gave people the opportunity to make different choices, to push a talent they had not used and to make constructive use of time.

"If you can make constructive use of time, there is a chance people will reflect, make different choices or develop a skill base that might be fruitful later on in a positive way."

Hughes said she saw people change. "It seems to me that through the involvement in the art class, people connect with their culture, which they may or may not have done for a while.

"There is a real pride in what is produced and where that inspiration comes from. It's not only a pride that is a singular thing but it's a pride that it is a job well done by Corrections staff, by family, by kaumatua who see outcomes and, ultimately, when projects are presented in a public venue ... there is huge pride in the feedback that comes from the community when they receive that work."

One project was a show last year by German conceptual artist Daniel Knorr, who wanted some prisoner-generated art to show alongside his own work on contained communities.

"Talking through it with my boss, it was a chance to do a conceptual show which was something different from what most people had done before and to be aware of what happens in the conceptual art field.

"That for me was where its value lay, in that difference, in that understanding of art, it's not just what you've always assumed it could be, it's not necessarily a beautiful thing or an appealing thing or something that talks about this place."

Hughes says while her involvement in the programme has not directly affected her own art practice, "I think it's made me think very much about this country and what happens here and the whole issue of place.

"People telling their stories, you do a lot of listening, you hear about this place and what happens here."

Hughes says her bosses understand the creative processes have a key role to play in the prison system.

"It can give people an avenue to think about change if they make that choice."

A feature of much criminal offending, if you've ever spent much time in court watching the tales of substance abuse and stupidity, is the drive for instant gratification or an impulse.

"When you are involved in something that is a creative thing, you are not going to get that instant thing happening.

"You have to have follow through and focus and patience to make it happen. That's something you notice, people come into the class and want an immediate outcome or for it to look fantastic and, over time, with people who do make that choice, there is a kind of consistency and follow-through that starts to happen.

"That is a life skill, if you do something in a particular way and you finish it, you don't just dump it halfway through.

"Then there is a sense of pride that you get from a job that is completed and which people acknowledge.

"So there is self-esteem and they were always asking what is the next project, when are we doing the next exhibition, so it would create a build-up."

It's a paradox that while art is seen as a bohemian and licentious activity, it actually requires discipline.

"In [the prison] context, if you don't have the discipline to finish something, it's easy to leave it. The idea of finishing, which people outside may think is the norm, is not the case, so it may be a major thing to finish something.

"Art is a way you can address who you are and what you are, which may be why it can be such a positive thing in prison. Often people don't sit down and reflect on that kind of stuff."