Creative community conversations

about death and grief 

Our Mortality Bites community arts residency, funded by Seventeen Nineteen, saw us work with three different and lively community organisations in Sunderland in June:

• A local organic food cooperative

• A community garden

• A community sustainable clothing boutique

In this blog post we'd like to share some of the creative conversations that took place with each group.

Photo by KV, banner by LV

We began by hosting a vegetarian community meal for a group at Sunshine Cooperative and while we all chopped and cooked and ate together, we told our stories of love, loss and food. We discussed how we remember loved ones through meals, foods and recipes. And we also talked about what recipes or food traditions we might want to hand down to others. I (KV) shared that I make poached eggs for breakfast at least once a week using the method my dad showed me a few weeks before he died. I also talked about my maternal grandmother's gooseberry fool and prickly gooseberry bush at the back of her garden and my paternal grandfather's chocolate éclairs, cream horns, and chocolate-dipped meringues (he was a South London chef before he retired).

photo by KV - Fresh produce from Sunshine Co-operative

We invited participants to bring kitchen heirlooms with them. People brought a range of crockery and recipe books. I loved that some of the recipe books were grubby and splattered from heavy use. Others were handwritten records of recipes loved by the family. This also prompted conversations about cherished recipes lost forever, because they weren't written or handed down. I particularly remember Sarah bringing her dad's heavily tea-stained mug, never washed in his lifetime (his preference) and certainly never to be washed after his death (11 years ago), demonstrating the importance of DIY, everyday mini shrines to people and their lives. Another participant shared that her mother bought her a small rolling pin aged eleven, which sparked her love of cooking for others.

Photo by KV - Sarah’s dad’s unwashed tea mug: it has been 11 years since he died

Here are some snippets of the group's stories and themes that emerged while we were preparing and eating the meal:

• Culinary secrets being passed down to people's children (always add nutmeg to mashed potato)

• Granny's horrible Christmas cake which was always very heavy and too thin - still had to be eaten, but only a tiny sliver at a time

• Slow cooked lamb with crispy rice - memories of home in another country - cooking this dish keeps the connection with their home country alive

• Cultural practices when eating - the importance of eating with hands in Pakistan and how fingers on the right hand are connected to issues of digestion

• A dad eating spaghetti and using scissors as improvised cutlery to cut the strands of spaghetti whilst eating (I LOVE THIS STORY).

• Food as extensions to personality

• Food as an act of joy and generosity 

• Food as medicine

Photo by KV

Let's just say that gathering people together to prepare and share a meal, whilst also sharing cross-cultural stories of love, loss and food, was a wonderful way to connect with others. I wish you could have smelled and tasted the spiced vegetarian stew we made together. Layers and layers and layers of flavour. The herby, savoury topping that we made for the stew was to die for (pardon the pun).  And Andrea made an Italian rice pudding cake for afters and Claire added organic blueberries to symbolise our collective preserving of memories.

We also worked with Just Let Your Soul Grow at their community garden in Southwick. We worked with the group to make personalised memorial seedballs out of clay and wildflower seeds.

Photo by KV

Everybody began by choosing someone as the focus for their memorial seedball. Then they made two pinch pots with the clay while they shared stories and memories of their person with the group. Jennie then shared wildflower seeds harvested from the garden. One pinch pot was filled with seeds then the other pinch pot placed on top to form a clay ball with the seeds inside. Then everyone personalised the seedballs by hand stamping words into the clay to remind them of their person. The seedballs take a couple of days to dry and then you can pop them in your pocket and take them with you to a place where you want to remember your person. The seedballs are great as part of DIY acts of remembrance, such as grief walks, and bespoke mourning rituals. Literally sowing the seeds of love.

Photo by KV

We also encouraged creative conversations about nature and grief, eco-endings, eco-grief, DIY nature-inspired acts of remembrance, and continuing bonds rooted in the natural world. We dropped off our travelling wind phone for the community garden to host for the next month. And we also took our @wovenfarewellcoffins British-grown and British-made willow coffin and our @bellacouche wool felted shroud for the community garden's visitors and volunteers to explore too. This sparked spontaneous, slow, gentle conversations about death and funerals, the options that are available and their farewell wishes.

Photo by KV

Finally, we worked with the Women's Community Boutique in Sunderland to host a creative conversation about fashion, clothing & grief. The aim of this community conversation was to bring together people who want to share personal stories of loss and talk about clothes, accessories and fashion as personal legacies and continuing bonds.

When my dad died, I kept his denim shirt and I wear it when I'm by myself. I find it calming and comforting. I took his denim shirt along, as well as some old family photos where the fashion choices stirred up memories of a loved one, and some items of my own clothing that I'd like to pass on to family and friends when I die (think Biba black feather collar rather than my dungarees). 

What items of clothing or accessories have you kept or been given when someone has died?

My grandmother wore an unusual faux fur hat and always had a woven straw shopping bag with her (with a bar of Galaxy chocolate hidden at the bottom). I didn't get to keep these items when she died, but when I think about her she's always wearing that hat and holding the straw bag.

Hosting imaginative and tailored community conversations with these three groups, and receiving such positive feedback about the experiences, highlighted that making time and space for creative conversations about death and grief is both valuable and desirable.

Huge thanks to Seventeen Nineteen for funding these events via their Emerging Community Artist scheme. And a thousand thank yous to everyone who took part in the creative community conversations. We loved listening to and learning from your personal stories of death and grief and we also enjoyed sharing ours with you!