Lido in Limbo

I photographed this lido in Bielefeld a few years ago. On the day I went by, a lot of hard work was being put into the pool before the start of the new season. Sadly, it is now closed and the council want to tear it down because they say they cannot afford to renovate it. There is a Facebook page to save it (in German).

Home is where the heART is

"Home is where the heart is" the saying goes. But at the Trailing Spouses Art Collective, we have discovered this past year that "Home is also where the heART is"! We are a group of 13 women who have all come to live in Bielefeld in Germany because of our partners' work. The group, which was initiated by Finnish artist Piia Rossi, has allowed us to creatively explore issues facing trailing spouses: lack of community support, loss of identity, loss of former careers, relationship problems, bureaucracy jungles and difficulties of finding new childcare and schools for our children, for example. 

In our exhibition, Home is where the heART is, we show work produced over the year since our founding in October 2011. We transformed a utilitarian space at Bielefeld University into a cosy living room, using our own spare furniture and furnishings, literally inviting visitors into our home to have a coffee and home made biscuits whilst looking at the art work. We wanted to make the visitor them feel at home, but also ask them to question what home means for a trailing spouse.

suitcases and packing boxes as plinths

paper houses on the theme of Investment

Open suitcases placed upon moving boxes became plinths displaying projects such as the paper houses on the theme of Investment. This project asked the question: If you move to a new city, knowing in a few years you will have to move again to follow the work, how much love, money and energy can you invest in your home? I took my odd key collection, and made a rubbing of the keys which I printed on my "house".  One key was from Berlin, reminding me of my former life there. I have no idea which objects I will be able to take from my real house when we next move, which could be within the next year, destination unknown, depending on next job offer.

Another suitcase displayed the Trailing Spouse self portraits as paper dolls. Grace's doll was made up entirely from Ikea catalogue cuttings. Not very personal, but the practicalities of settling into a new city  sometimes prohibit that.  

Reka adds the finishing touches to exhibit

The photographic portrait series "Faceless"  looked at how identity is effected by arriving in a new place, not knowing anybody and not knowing the language. Patty's response was a photo called "Nobody wants to play with alien chicken".

Nobody want to play with alien Chicken 

Pieces were also hung from threads from the ceiling, hankies printed with our "mini sagas" and paper lanterns with our "Elfchens".

Our hankies  tell a mini saga

tea amongst the Elfchens

There was even our Manifesto which was aptly displayed in the form of a packing box.

put your feet up and feel at home

People were also drawn to our new website, MyBielefeld on the beamer, with Olga's beautifully hand drawn Bielefeld skyline forming the banner. We started this website to help new arrivals in Bielefeld who may have problems with the language. Categories range from eating out to health issues to finding a flat.

Sam gets in some knitting time.

The exhibition's location at the University was also important, not only because some of our partners work there but also because the structure of academia itself creates huge pressures on individuals and families and does little to support them. As a friend put it, it is like working as a diplomat, i.e. having to move every four years, but without the perks. There is a very good article in the guardian about this.

cookies going fast

A few of us have moved away since the Trailing Spouses Art Collective started and a few more have joined. I hope that we can continue finding out if Home is where the heART is for a good while to come. 

Your input is needed and valued

Manifesto Letter Collage by Piia Rossi

When the idea was circulated in the ‘Trailing Spouses' art group by Patty to think up a manifesto for our group, I was wary at first. As I had been unable to take part in so many meetings, I was wondering how much a part of the group I really was. I read up on the other ideas from the trailing spouses to see if I could get some inspiration. One manifesto idea was, Trailing Spouses are open to trying new things and going beyond their comfort zones. I must admit that I am not very good at trying new things. However, I definitely went beyond my comfort zone when I took part in a theatre workshop for the Trailing Spouses organised by member Coralie and her drama teacher, Rob. One exercise was called The Emotion Bus but it was more like a rollercoaster ride.  We each had to take a slip of paper with an emotion written on it, and to board “the bus” and approach the “bus driver” with that emotion in mind. I had the emotion “happy” and although happiness is a familiar emotion it is a different experience when you can go overboard and act ecstatically happy about something as banal as a bus ride, wax lyrical about the colour of the bus and how wonderful your bus driver is etc. There was also something karmic about the exercise as your emotion was mirrored and returned by the bus driver. In short, what you dished out, you got back in spades. As the bus filled up, we were supposed to mirror the boarding emotions, such as anger, fear, depression and love. Most of the time, I was just giggling at the back, but other times I felt genuinely swept up in whatever emotion was coming on the bus. One minute the bus was not going anywhere, because someone felt depressed and suddenly there didn’t seem much point any more, and the next we were heading off into a romantic sunset in a haze of hippy love.

It made me aware of the fact that people don’t display enough emotions in everyday life. Also, you might think the emotions most people are afraid of displaying are negative emotions, but actually I think people are even more afraid of looking happy in public here. As part of my research for my post “Old bag with school bag” I struck up conversation with someone working on the trams here on my journey home, and asked him why all the school children on the tram were heading home at midday. At first his face was a closed book, so closed it had one of those locks and keys I used to have on my diaries when I was twelve. Then the kinks appeared in his official demeanour. His mask melted, and lo and behold a human being appeared, and he actually looked relieved as a big smile enveloped his face. Perhaps only foreigners can get away with this, so I wouldn’t suggest everyone approach stony-faced officials on a whim.  But this brings me to another member's manifesto idea, Trailing Spouses value strength as much as vulnerability, emotions included.

I still can’t pin down exactly what the 'Trailing Spouses' art group is, but I see that as a good thing. Although it has a founding member, Piia Rossi, who is basing her PHD on the project, it seems to have a life of its own and is very democratic. When I think of a manifesto I tend to think of a narrow agenda, but apart from outlawing the “art police” as Piia puts it, there aren’t any rules as to what art can entail. In the group, art has been written, acted out, constructed and even baked.

Another manifesto idea was, Your input is needed and valued which I like because I felt it could be read several ways. Was the input needed and valued by the group or could the countries we find ourselves also value our input and even need us? Well, at least we can rely on the former, T.Ss!  There were lots of other manifesto ideas, but as it is still a work in progress, I haven’t mentioned them all here. And my manifesto idea?  We are not afraid of going off at a tangent.  No, hang on, that sounds more like a manifesto for my blog. Wait a minute, inspire, don’t perspire, no that is just plain silly. There goes the career as a political speechwriter. What about Trailing Spouses are not afraid to laugh at themselves? Is it a collective laugh, or laughing on an individual basis at oneself, but in a collective environment? Stop, just stop right there.


postscript: Just took a stroll through the town and was overwhelmed by cheery citizens of all ages, ready to strike up conversation with me and Henry, so maybe those grim countenances also have a lot to do with the long drawn out drizzly winters in Bielefeld. 

Home, a Mini-Saga

For the next 'Trailing Spouses' art group meeting, one of our members, Coralie, asked us to write a mini-saga, a story in exactly 50 words on the subject of Home, an emotive theme indeed, even for the most seasoned of Trailing Spouses. Here is my offering, covering the 3 places, and counting, which I call and have called home in my life. 

Going home to Berlin(where I lived for 11 years)

I went home and looked up at the plants on my balcony, strange objects. I looked over at the playground, children from my son’s kindergarten, new faces. A neighbour came to greet me like always. I looked at my front door. How strange to think that I cannot go inside. 

Going home to London where I lived from 0 – 29 years)

For my holidays I go home to London. I was born here. At St Pancras I buy a ticket and speak German! On the train, the familiarity of people takes me aback. A snippet of friends and family, that’s hardly enough. But better than Facebook and all of that stuff.

Going home in Bielefeld, Germany, where I have lived for 3,5 years.

I’m registered at this address, a German formality. Think of those who’ve stood at these windows before me! Who will move in? We move out, less than a year, possibly? View from my kitchen, a three hundred year old tree. Some people don’t appreciate it, blocks the light, you see.

Going home to Bielefeld, Germany (sometime in the future)

Seen through shop windows, fancy goods I could never afford. Outside the school, where Eric spent one year. One street of the square mile, walked again and again. The patisserie, they still know my name. Broken gate, lift it, feels the same. Ring the doorbell, old friends, ask me in.

Check out this mini saga on the theme of Home by Piia Rossi, which inspired me, on her blog, Trailingspousesdotcom.

Trailing Spouse

 A few weeks ago, I was invited to join a PHD art project by and for “The Trailing Spouse” by my friend Piia Rossi.  This term describes the predicament we both find ourselves in, living in a place, which is not of our choosing where our partners happen to have work.   It is a term used often in the military, diplomatic or government circles, where the employee is relocated at regular intervals. It is also common practice in those areas to offer support in terms of jobs and childcare to the Trailing Spouse. In the States, universities are known to offer spouses employment in order to encourage academics to relocate. In the experience of Piia and myself, we have received no support from the University of Bielefeld: No Kindergarten place, no help in finding a flat and no support in finding a job.

The term “Trailing Spouse” is not empowering. Rather, it suggests weakness: A hapless soul trailing behind their partner, an appendage rather than an autonomous person.

To me, the words “Trailing Spouse” conjure up horticultural references. I imagine a delicate vine clinging on to a trellis, decorative and vulnerable to the elements. But to my mind, the “Trailing Spouse” must in actual fact become a very resilient type of plant.  It must survive being uprooted and replanted, it must be extremely adaptable to new conditions, it must find fertile soil or it will soon wither on the vine.

Piia was transplanted to Bielefeld over a year ago. Originally from Finnland, she lived in Ireland for twenty years as an artist printmaker and teacher before coming to Bielefeld.  In a way, it is a similar situation to me. She met her husband in the city that she chose to live in and then moved because of his job to a new town and became a “Trailing Spouse”. For her, though, the move was more extreme than mine as the country and the language was new to the family. Her husband is Slovakian, and her children speak English, Slovakian and Finnish and now German.

Before Piia explained her project to me, though, I had never really considered the notion of being a “Trailing Spouse”. 

She pointed out to me that it makes you different to the people you encounter in that place, not only because you may be foreign, but also because you don’t have the same relation to the place you happen to be living in, especially if that place is like Bielefeld, where many people who live here also grew up here. You will probably not have a steady career trajectory, as that would have meant staying in one place for a length of time or having your spouse following you. Your attitude to your flat will be different to most people, because you know that in a few years time you will be moving on, so there is no point investing that much in it.  In the back of your mind you know the friendships you make are, sadly, not going to exist in the same form in a few years time. Somehow, this makes your status quite different to others, even taking into consideration other life altering changes that effect everyone.

So I was pleased when Piia told me about her great project and even invited me to join it. It has promised me a sense of belonging and that, ironically, because of my “Trailing Spouse” status, which usually set me apart.  And I realised, that even though I have been in Bielefeld three years and will most probably move somewhere else in one year I have, despite being a “Trailing Spouse”, made some kind of headway here. I have had new experiences that I wouldn’t have had if I had stayed in Berlin. I have joined a brass band and go to a book club, and have met brilliant people here as well as finding out about another little corner of the globe and I suppose, another side of myself. 


You can view Piia Rossi's "Trailing Spouses" community page, which is on Facebook, to find out more information. 

Life in Bielefeld; Must Haves

Life in Bielefeld

I am sure that one of the most pressing questions at the moment for most of the readers of this blog (the one or maybe two of you) is, what is that place Bielefeld like? I mean Berlin I get, TV Tower, international flair, magnet for artists. But Bielefeld, what is the attraction.  Really.
Well, I am not going to overturn your preconceptions here: The answer is none.

But in case you do decide to come here on a visit, though, to become one with this noneness, you may want to invest in some accessories so that you fit in.
Fitting in is quite important in Bielefeld.  See Bielefeld  ==> fitting in.

Must haves of Bielefeld:

1. Riesenthal Shopping Basket.

You are on the number 4 tram and alight at Siegfried Platz, the hub of Bielefeld culture, where the look is University chic meets retired eco warrior devil-may-care, and you find yourself on a picturesque Square, which has the quaint nickname of “Siggi”, which doesn´t sound so inviting in English it has to be said.
You step out of the lift, it is a glorious day – I mean the one day of the year in Bielefeld when it isn´t raining – straight into a buzzing weekly market, as in farmers trying to palm off their fresh produce on you, apiarists trying to shift their honey, and florists trying to peddle their colourful perishables.  I ask you.
Bielefeld at its worst!

This is where the Riesenthal Shopping basket comes in handy. You can choose from a wide variety of colours, plain or patterned, which the manufacturers optimistically describe as baroque, folklore and art deco, but basically, as everyone else has got one, there is nothing individual about them at all, and they are ugly as hell.   If you are at the market, and you don’t have one of these, you might as well kiss the last chanterelles goodbye, and you certainly do not deserve them. The lady of middling years with the pointy white shoes with air holes in and beige slacks (illustration below) will be in there before you know it and you will be reeling from brushed aluminium steel (lightweight!) against the soft target of your shins.
See Bielefeld ==>Beige Slacks

2. Headband integrating ear warmer

You are walking up past the magnificent villas of the Musical district on your way up to the Sparrenberg, a dramatically situated castle perched high on the hills above Bielefeld, when you feel a tingling around the ear area. As you climb higher, the castle in your sights, your breathing getting faster as you try and cope with the lack of oxygen at this altitude, you suddenly feel a breeze a-whipping around your earlobes.  You drag yourself up to the summit, inadvertently kissing the castles medieval foundations as you do so, when there is that sensation again that you can´t quite put your finger on, a sensation that is the opposition of hot, well not even that, as it is not cold it is, yes, you´ve got it – chilly – and what is chilly? Your ears! Panic stricken you raise your head and squint up at the castle’s turrets, take off your coat and wrap it around your ears in a desperate attempt to stop the gnawing chilly sensation, but its still no good, the chilly feeling round your ears just doesn’t stop. You peer down  through the grate into the castles dungeons, thinking you might be able to fit in a tour today, if only your ears were not so damned chilly. Funnily enough though, the top of your head is just toasty warm, even though you are not wearing a hat, it is just your ears that are just extremely and maddeningly chilly.  You adopt a kneeling position, your hands cupped protectively over your ears, hoping, praying for an answer to your pressing chilliness, when you inadvertently trip up a passing jogger, who is running along the 127 kilometre Herman Way, with your elbow. You’ve downed a jogger, but what is this? Neither a head-band or a hat, ingenious, a head band that covers the ears, and hey, it looks sporty too.

You feel as if you have left the dark ages. Before the jogger is conscious you whip the Headband Integrating Ear Warmer off him and place it lovingly around your head and most importantly over those terribly chilly ears of yours.  What relief, now you can really start your tour of the castle, and strangely enough, the top of your bare head is still puzzlingly toasty warm.   As you enter the castle courtyard an eerie view greets you. Not only is the owner of the snack shop wearing a headband/earwarmer, but on closer inspection everyone in the castle grounds is wearing one! Nervous, feeling as if you have entered the hallowed grounds of a weird ear-warming sect, you venture  towards the tower, and the start the ascent of the 37 metre tower. You skip up the steps like a dream, your ears snug as a medieval bug in a medieval rug. It’s only when you take in the breath taking view of Bielefeld that you hear the jogger’s footsteps behind you, and the mournful groan of – "chilly ears, chilly ears".
See Bielefeld ==> snack shop