Second steps - Shaping El Warcha Lisboa: Atelier Social e Comunitario

Our community workshop project in Lisbon is on it’s second steps. We are now establishing connections with different partners in Lisbon and Almada, starting to build our grass-root workshop spaces. At the same time we are having the great support of Relanca-te - School of Impact programme initiated by Fundacao Ageas in partnership with Impact Hub Lisbon.

This course has the objective to create employment for people in vulnerable social situations and it was launched to respond to the unemployment that occurred as a result of the pandemic crisis, being completely online. Relanca-te gives us the capacity to pass from the ideas stage to action and help us to have access to tools that empower our business model and help us in our social impact.

This mentorship has been crucial for us to develop our project in a more sustainable way, guiding us in focusing on priorities and being able to reach our goals - promoting social inclusion of vulnerable communities through multidisciplinary creative practices and collaboration.

Street Chairs - 2018

Un espace, deux roues, une planche de bois, l’exercice est clair, les mêmes mots, chacun construit une phrase. Avec la construction on peut ouvrir le dialogue, chacun peut prendre la parole, l’objet permet d'ancrer les choses de les rendre palpable. Créer des objets c’est créer une relation. 

Une chose frappante quand on marche dans les rues de Tunis ce sont ces chaises, bricolé, rafistolé, arrangé avec les petites techniques du quotidien. C’ est un art de vivre comme dit Michel de Certeau. L’invention du quotidien, la manière dont on détourne les objets mais aussi la ville a une plus grande échelle. Cette relation organique, avec les moyens du bord que l’on a avec l’espace que l’on habite est une forme d’expression, presque toujours dans l'économie de moyen ce qui rend cela particulièrement poétique.

Une fois je Bab el Khadra, l’assise et le dos de la chaise étaient complètement défoncé, mais la structure était encore la. il y avait une pile de carton sur l’assise. Le carton était enfoncé et avait pris avec le temps la forme des fesses de la personne. Je me suis arrêté, ca a suscité beaucoup d’imaginaire. J’ai pris la photo, l’homme qui était la, m’a dit: pourquoi tu prend ca en photo? J’ai dit c’est intelligent, il m’a sourit. 

C est tout un langage, les matériaux, leur origine, le pois du corp, c’est comme un tableau ou un portrait de la personne qui non seulement a fait cette objet mais aussi l’utilise quotidiennement. La personne s’exprime, juste par besoin, sans luxe. Tous le monde dans la rue sais que c’est la chaise de Mr x. C’est important de partager cette imaginaire, un art du quotidien.

M.Y.O.M /// Learning from Make Your Own Masters

“Art education in the UK is still a luxury. With a price tag of around £40,000 to attend and live in London (as quoted by leading London institutions). This level of education is vital for many careers in the arts, with most industry leaders holding claim to it, yet only 10% of the population can afford an MA education. These financial and albeit bias restrictions actively deny some of our brightest potential, and in the year of 2019 why are we still having conversations about institutional education being a privilege.”

— Stacie Woolsey founder of M.Y.O.M

M.Y.O.M started in 2017, but it really took off in 2020. The first luxury in studying is taking the time, the price of university is so high it wasn’t an option for me, I had to find another way of spending those 18 month. I knew I wanted to mix things up, something creative but also scientific at the same time. I wanted to develop my practice but I wanted it to be connected as well to the industry.

I did a lot of research, looking up artists, people I admired, I didn’t know any of them personally but I decided to send them an email. I explained the situation, the fact that the price of university was so high and that I couldn’t afford it, and how I had decided to teach myself with the support of professionals in different fields. I sent a lot of emails. A few weeks later I started to get some responses, a lot of the people I had reached out to were sympathetic with my call. Some of them acknowledge they would not have been able to study if the price of university at that time had been as high as it is today. In a way they felt they had the opportunity and they were willing to support someone who didn’t have the same chance. The relationship I created was quite simple, I was asking them to develop a brief for me based on the field they were working on and this would be my task for the next couple of months. I would respond to the brief and they would support me in giving me guidance. 

I was never someone who would go and just talk randomly to someone else face to face. I didn’t feel it was about having the confidence but more that I had nothing to lose. At the time I was still working and having a regular income meant I could do that on the side, that gave me a lot more freedom, I wouldn’t have had If I had been at university. 

When I opened the program for other people, after having done it myself, part of the criteria was not knowing the discipline they wanted to be part of. This idea that they had to create their own curriculum, outside of the traditional framework. I just provided a structure, I act more as a curator, the question is how to facilitate education, learning without a discipline. I don’t want to impose something, it is a form of mentoring. I am not just asking a question, I am also teaching but, it is a balance between the two.

When I did it for myself, there was no one overlooking what I was doing, nobody to guide me through it. My version was hard. It’s at that point that I imagined a peer group going through this together. The spirit I want to keep is the idea of constant experimentation. One thing I need to remind myself regularly is that the success of this process is entirely on them. Most of the participants who take on that program have faced problems in the past in education or in the industry, they know why they are doing it, they are motivated.

The way it works is, there is no deadline, every week we have a call, either a group call or a one to one mentoring session. They have to keep their foot in the ring. They know it’s one hour phone call every week, they have to make the most of it. Serious deadline may really help, that might be something we develop. The first six months are the toughest, they are transitioning and figuring out what they really want develop. It's a time where they need to explore what they really want to do individually, how they are going to build their curriculum. Defining their own goal is a big challenge in itself. Being able to do whatever you want is a double edge sword. In their eyes it has to be “right” - but it is not a linear process. We only plan things for two month at the time. There is a process of setting the brief, reflecting on what to do and maybe re routing. The vision you have for yourself doesn’t need to be all encompassing.

At the moment the final output is an exhibition, we talk about it all the way, that’s an ongoing discussion. How do you validate your program. I want to push the participants to find their own way of validating their curriculum. I tend to always compare to traditional education but I want us to find our own approach.

Each brief informs the next one, it is about learning what you want to do. What you realise working with various people in the industry is that it is not only about what they do or who they are but mostly it is about the relationship you create with them. I don’t believe in forcing these relationships, it has to be two way traffic. I don’t think it would work if I was the one laying out the rules or contacting the mentors. I don’t have the academic wording, It is about people helping people, learning is a relationship between two individuals, it is as simple as that. You need to do stuff, make it work. I named my own masters:” Anthropological Futures”  the idea is about reliability, creating the language that helps you relate to people.

I am not critical of academia, I am critical about access to education, I can’t comment on the quality of education you get at university, I haven’t experienced it. Universities in the UK are so elitist, it is not about talent, it is about privilege. I come from an ex mining town, there is no access to art or education here, I want to create opportunities for young people to look outside. It is not about having fun over a period of time, it is about seeing that it is possible to do something different for yourself. 

Talking Stacie about education was really inspiring. It puts in perspective some of the challenges that we face at El Warcha. One particular point that resonates is the idea of self motivation and the notion of: doing what you want to do - or discovering it. As a collective we want everyone to find their own individual path, the workshop should be a platform for people to discover new skills but more importantly  find out what they really want to do by interacting with inspiring people.

This article is a synthesis of a zoom meeting with Stacie Woolsey and El Warcha team in June 2020

People have to take control of their own stories /// Learning from "FREEDOM & BALANCE"

Last week El Warcha met on zoom with André Anderson the headmaster of FREEDOM & BALANCE, a collective and experimental Art University based in North West London. The collective ambitious first project was to turn Chalkhill estate into a publishing house. Authors of the Estate is a powerful, self funded dream that inspired 22 writers to come together and publish a book in 12 weeks. In 2020 they started: the curriculum, an online art university with weekly briefs for students to develop their skills as designers and artists.

“We are Freedom & Balance, an art college for the artist in everyone. We believe that an art college done well can help you ask the right questions in new ways, in a world that is ever-changing and in need of solutions. We believe that art is not just an activity for the gifted few, but a way of thinking that can be applicable to the personal, professional and social lives of everyone. We design curriculums to help you exercise your creative identity week-by-week, season-by-season.”

For young people in Chalkhill estate formal education is not strong, you are taught just enough to get a working job, creative thinking is put to the side. When we started the project we thought we were going to hire a room in the estate, we put posters up and expected that people would show up, seat down together and write. There was a Qr code on the poster linking to a video where I introduced myself as the “headmaster of the college” and presented the concept of the “publishing house”. I had prepared myself to give a great speech in front of everyone... No one responded to my call, this was too much, no one understood what I was trying to do, the language I was using and the form it took was not accessible. In the end I made another poster: “Shakhill has a story to tell” with my number on it. I striped it down to the most important, the res had to come afterwards.

For the first hour no one showed up, two older man came eventually, guys who had been around as kids in the eighties, I wasn’t sure what to do, but I didn’t want them to wait around in an empty room. It couldn’t be just about seating together and writing. No one wants to write a book, people want their stories to be told but you have to make the case for the medium itself. There is a gap when you start a project between what you want  and other people’s expectation or needs. The process involves bringing the two together, it  is about making the connections.

Another elements that appears clearly in the project is the different levels of engagement. It is like series of circles, on the outskirt there is passers by, people you might have talked to on the street or interviewed, material that might be included in the book but which is somehow more periferic. Then you have the inner circles, contributors who actively engage with the project and might have contributed a full article, we call it a chapter. Finally there is the core group, the people who contribute at length and who might be involved in the production itself. It doesn't mean, it is a fixed structure, some start from the outside circle and then eventually end up being part of the core team. It depends on the relationship you build and how committed people might be. But you shouldn’t expect everyone to be as committed or interested in the project, it is important to make room for different type of interaction.

Part of what we did was to give confidence to people, we also had to share the tools and the language that goes with this process. If someone started scribbling a few notes on a piece of paper i would say: “now you are a writer, if you share it with other people you will be a publisher.” This language doesn’t come naturally but it slowly grew on people. None of the contributors called themselves writers, only when we did the launch of the book, people started to recognise themselves as writers. The book launch was a real success, the room was packed and we sold out our first edition within a week, this also changed the narrative and gave people more confidence. You don’t want to do all this work for only five people to show up. The point is not to turn people into world class writer overnight but to open a door, to widen the horizon of possibilities. You might not be a writer now, but you could be, that makes a big difference.   

From a practical point of view we had to accommodate whatever form the contributors found more comfortable. Most of the book came in the form of whatsapp text messages, they don't have word or maybe access to a computer but everyone had a phone and had whatsapp.  This was the most accessible way for people to write. Some people had issues writing or maybe dyslexia so they sent recorded voice messages that we then put into writings. Whatever the tools as long as they could share their stories. Our role as editors was to make the connection to highlight the correspondence between the different stories, to create a coherent corpus of text. Now in the book it looks polished and well assembled but it came in the shape of fragments, manly  text messages on our mobile phones.

With the Curriculum, our weekly online design brief, we attract a diversity of people, a lot of them are not from Chalkhill estate. This means that we are all coming at it from a different perspective. Part of the challenge is to  encourage people to be specific in the way they approach the projects. The more general the question we ask, the less interesting are the responses. One of the brief is called the Dream House, it is about designing different spaces, while designing this I had my niece in mined as a client, this made the result so much more personal and interesting. 

POWER PLAY: A CURRICULUM BY FREEDOM & BALANCE

“HOW CAN ART HELP EXERCISE YOUR SELF-AWARENESS?”

February - March 2020

Documenting the process of what we do is as important as the result, this is the story we can tell others. This is the record of a moment in time, I have picture and recordings of every steps of the way, it is not just to show how great what we do is. It is also to share this as a tool with others. In the book you can find the outline of the process, there is a section that explains everything that we did,  if someone wanted to try something similar they could learn from our experience. Recording the failures is as important, I might not publicise our failures as much, but I am clear on what we did wrong and I am happy to share it. Highlighting the  challenges we are facing, not shy away from the mistakes we make is the only way to move forward. I also deeply feel that the project came out better from what we had originally planned because of the mistakes we made.

THE BLUEPRINT

“WHAT COULD THE FUTURE OF WORK LOOK LIKE?”

February - March 2020

Owning your story- last year the police decided to do a public campaign against knives on takeaway chicken boxes. They thought it was a good idea to tell young people eating at chicken shops how bad knife crimes was. This was so patronising and tasteless that we decided to react, we took it upon ourselves to respond on social media. This idea that young people eating takeaway chicken are the problem, instead of pointing out to the great things that are being done and being inspirational.

People have to take control of their own stories, now our story is getting way more clear. I have a sense that my art college is designed for a future that doesn’t exist yet, telling that story is a way to materialise it, to make it happen.

From a learning community to an income generating collaborative practice

In 2018 when I came back to London my colleague Jim from City Mined was developing ideas around a new form of cooperative. A platform for people to learn together and generate income at a local level.  Working in challenging economical context means “culture” , as a way to inspire and bring people together is not necessarily the most effective approach. Coming from an art/activist  perspective the real economy is a bit scary, working within its framework also goes against a preconception we sometimes share as a team, the idea that the creation of “common” is a non capitalist project, which renders any form of mercantile activity suspicious.

When the project Elephant Path started in 2016 Jim interviewed academics and economists to reflect on the role of learning and skill sharing. Part of the research highlighted the trend for “New forms of employment” a transformation of the relationship between employer and employee emerging in the aftermath of the global recession. Two models have emerged that we recognise today, the collaborative economy and the uberisation, the two concepts are, in many ways, totally opposite. Uberisation is a profit-oriented type of business with the one and only goal of high margin generation. The collaborative economy, on the other hand, is more sustainable, and oriented towards purpose and use rather than possession. The goal of collaborative economies is to protect resources and share them rather than extracting their individual benefits.

I started to work with Jim testing a few ideas in Kings Cross, most notably the Elephant Lunch break club was a concept where people would cook, learn new recipes and share a meal. The point was to create a cooking community where residents could come together and explore a shared interest. We envisioned that this convivial lunch could evolve into a supper club, a format outside of traditional restaurants setting, usually run in private homes or alternative places, that could generate incomes for local cooks. Part of the business model was relying on attracting young professionals from the nearby business quarter. However beyond a series of events it was difficult to push forward in that direction. The challenge of creating an amateur cooking group from scratch and turning it into a semi professional cooperative was overwhelming. In addition to creating a group the needs for a proper legal framework, professional kitchen  and other key elements was beyond our reach at the time.

Generating a learning community and supporting new collaborative businesses are a two of the objectives of Participatory City. A few months back Ines and I visited the project in east London. This initiative grew out of ten years of research in the field of social engagement  by CEO Tessy Britton. It had been tested at a small scale in 2014-2015 and now was being developed at a large scale in Barking and Dagenham. The basic concept of the project is to create a network of small initiatives, mostly delivering free workshop activities, all connected throughout the city. From cooking classes, growing food or learning carpentry, the project relies on residents to come forward with ideas and sharing them as part of a weekly program. Half of the time the team of Participatory City works with residents to produce contents and reflects on what they have done. The mentoring of residents means that people with no experience can slowly develop an idea. It is also a dialogue where the outcome is always open to discussion rather than casually imposed to people like it is often the case in other participatory projects. Part of the project focuses on turning ideas into viable collaborative businesses, helping participants to come together and test an idea. It is a really fast track process whereby having a frit product on the market as soon as possible is really encouraged. However the incubator is still at an early stage and only a few businesses have come out of it. Communication is a big part of Participatory City, first and foremost, the 4 shops they have on the high street is a first point of contact.  they also have printed journal distributed to thousands of people in the borough to inform residents about the upcoming activities.

 The illustrated participatory city guide book that serves as a sort of manifesto for the project explains how in most cases, traditional participatory projects fail to have a large impact. It is said that 3% of the population take part in “engagement” projects, a much lower percentage than sports clubs or other religious groups. Small scale projects also have less chance of surviving with a lot of them lasting less than two years. The idea of a Participatory City of mutualising risks and sharing resources is a way to create cooperation and maybe divert from the more competitive models. It is also a chance for people with less experience to come forward with ideas, giving them a platform rather than relying on a few well experienced individuals to develop projects.

As part of the tour we took with Ines we first discovered the warehouse, a gigantic space, 3300m2, including carpentry workshops, professional kitchen, kindergarten and coworking spaces. My first impression was that it was the kind of google of participation, there was so much space and workshop facilities, I was blown away. It was only in the second part of our tour and after a meeting that we went back to the center of town to see some of the shops. They are the main point of contact with the residents and where most of the activities are taking place. The shops are like small versions of the warehouse disseminated across town. Similarly to El Warcha in Tunis they rely on having a presence on the street and being open everyday for people to use. The shop we visited was a cosy environment with a nicely decorated entrance, a fully fitted kitchen and a series of rooms for diverse activities.

What is impressive about Participatory City is the scale and the tools developed to manage the project. The 400 pages annual report is a good insight into the project and it also highlights the methodology and evaluation process. From a practical point of view the fact that all the activities are run and delivered by the residents themselves is exemplary. However the down side of this model is the lack of financial support or income generating activities for participants. Even Though the incubator supports the creation of businesses it is marginal in comparison to the rest of the project. In a context where only the production team and mentors are on the payroll my concerns would be that after a little while people lose interest and question not having any financial compensation.

El Warcha in Tunis is collaborative design practice and carpentry workshop, since 2018 most of our team is being paid, this means that at times we have up to 10 people on the payroll, including young people, design students to young professionals with managerial roles. Transition from a traditional community art project to an income generating activity is a long and difficult process. Our work mainly revolves around product design and carpentry with projects ranging from self initiated community  activities to client based product design. Being a learning community with no professional experience for most of the team can be a real challenge. The time we spend together includes a wide range of interactions outside of working hours that blurs the line between what is work and what is social interaction or personal growth. In this context where labour and being together overlaps it is hard to rationalise the retribution system. The most obvious would be to pay people on the outcome of their work, when applied to product design it is straightforward, but it is much harder when it comes to transversal activities. 

The transition from a community of practice to an income generating collaborative practice has put a lot of strain on our relationships and has highlighted the difficulty for equal pay and equal responsibility. We have turned this around many times, we have based the payroll framework on the time people spend at the workshop, based on the task they deliver or on their level of experience. None of our models have been fully conclusive. Our approach reveals that to be functional and horizontal our frameworks  requires a lot of autonomy from each member of the team. Our experience also shows that participants find it much easier and inspiring to learn and take part in practical activities. Other topics; like the administration, communication or strategy of the project have been much harder to address collectively. Traditional work forms of communication like emails or meetings have also been challenging at times, pushing us towards less formal means of communication. So far like many other projects of that sort  we still rely on a few individuals who have more experience than the others to run the project and deliver some of the crucial tasks for the project to run. 

Our long term vision remains to create a framework for a community of people to experiment new ways of working together, learn from each other and have a strong connection to our environment. In the next few months we will be looking at alternative ways to develop our practice, this is a discussion to be continued. 

Les grands idéalistes qui font pas la vaisselle

C’est l’histoire d’une colonie anarchiste au Brésil en 1855

Ça me rappelle bien notre situation

Sauf que eux sont morts de faim…

C'était pas ceux qui sont à l'origine des favelas ? Les soldats qui avaient été isolés et oubliés par l’armée dans les collines de Rio à la suite d’une guerre comme signe de non-reconnaissance de leurs combats. C’est un terrain propice à la création d’une communauté anarchiste et révolutionnaire.. 

C'est quoi le nom de cette colonie ?

Ça fait partie d’un bouquin de Patrik Ourednik: Instant propice

En 1855, un groupe d’anarchistes, communistes et idéalistes part de l’Europe pour fonder une colonie fraternelle au Brésil basée sur des principes égalitaires et autogérés. 

Il y a eu beaucoup d’expériences de ce genre au 19eme

Basées par exemple sur les principes des Saint-Simoniens

Des groupes autonomes créaient leurs propres colonies, ils finançaient leurs voyages grâce à des souscriptions publiques. Ces sortes d’expérimentations sociales ont souvent mal terminé. Malgré leurs ambitions égalitariennes, ces colonies avaient souvent aussi une dimension colonialiste ce qui facilitait leur acceptation par les autorités. En gros, des Européens se réunissaient avec l'idée de fonder une communauté et le gouvernement colonial leur donnaiet des terres, en Afrique du Nord ou en Amérique du Sud.  Terre qui évidemment avait été précédemment arrachée aux peuples colonisés

La colonisation n’est pas le sujet de cette discussion même si c’est malgré tout en toile de fond de nos réflexions. La correspondance entre les anarchistes colonialistes du 19eme siècle et notre tentative de créer un atelier autogéré en Tunisie est grinçante.

Tu penses que ça pourrait être ça notre angle d'attaque pour ce texte ?

Je trouve ça intéressant, surtout la question de l'idéalisme et de la responsabilité individuelle. Il y a un passage dans le livre de Partik Ourednik où il parle des conséquences terribles du manque d’attention des membres de la communauté face aux tâches quotidiennes. Un point de vue qui a une échelle moindre n'est pas sans rappeler nos propres discussions à l’atelier face aux petites choses qui rendent la vie en communauté quelquefois difficile. Mais bon contrairement à cet extrait, nous ne sommes pas dans une situation de vie ou de mort.  

“Si les gens vinrent à souffrir de la faim, cela ne résulta pas de l’impossibilité d’organiser le transfert de vivres, mais des aberrations d’intendants autoproclamés. Si les gens manquèrent de pain, ce fut parce que personne ne répara le toit du grenier, endommagé par les averses. Si le bétail piétina les champs de haricots, ce fut parce que l’enclos n’avait pas été construit assez solidement. Et le manque de confiance fut la cause que les colons se laisserent gagner par l’indolence; certains se découragerent et contaminerent les autres, refusant les corvées d’eau et les travaux des champs. Un Parlementarisme stupide supplanta les principes anarchistes. Les colons adopterent le systeme absurde du referendum et gacherent leur temps en assemblées qui n’engendraient que promesses insesées et ambitions personelles. Puis ils dicterent aux autres leurs droits et leurs devoirs.. (...)”

Patrik Ourednik: Instant propice, 1855

Oula

C'est intéressant

Mais c'est dur un peu !

J'aime bien le côté micro société

Et ce qui en incombe mais je trouve ce passage un peu extrême

C'est un peu cliché mais

On pourrait parler des Castors ?

Pas l'animal

Le mouvement d'autoconstruction coopérative, qui est né en France au lendemain de la Seconde Guerre-Mondiale en réponse à la crise des logements.

Le parallèle pourrait peut-être avoir du sens ? Le fait que plusieurs individus se réunissent dans un premier temps humainement autour d’un projet (de taille !) à savoir eux-mêmes construire leurs logements à une époque où l’état était défaillant sur ces questions. 

Après faudrait trouver des refs sur les notions de responsabilité

je ne connais pas

Il y a aussi beaucoup de choses intéressantes autour des squats, du droit à la ville et des manières plus "alternatives" d'occuper/d’habiter un territoire

Qui de facto crée des communautés et une forte responsabilisation de leurs membres. Car il y a une volonté de liberté en même temps de vivre ensemble.

Ce qui est intéressant là dedans c'est souvent une somme d'individus qui veulent tendre vers des objectifs de collectifs pour 

1) répondre à leurs envies/besoins 

2) pallier le désintérêt des pouvoirs publics

3) reconnaître d'autres modes de vivre (en pied de nez au dogme de la "norme") 

4) se positionner contre les logiques de marchandisation omniprésentes dans les territoires urbains.

ça me fait penser à la “Torre David” à Caracas, au Venezuela. C’est de nouveau une question du droit au logement et du droit à la ville. Mais en gros, ce sont des centaines de familles qui ont commencé à occuper une grande tour destinée initialement pour des bureaux, mais dont les travaux ont été avortés par manque d’argent. La municipalité les a autorisé à investir les lieux, en reconnaissant leur droit d’occuper la tour et d’en faire un lieu de vie. C’était fascinant de voir que ces familles avaient reconstruits une ville dans la ville, au sein de cette tour à moitié finie. Et je me demandais comment pouvait fonctionner cette société, et comment étaient réparties les responsabilités (notamment de gardiennage et d’entretien des communs). La communauté de l’immeuble a créé un système d’organisation très cadré, contrairement à ce que certain.e.s pouvaient prétendre en l’accablant de “tour anarchiste de la terreur” (quand on pense anarchisme, on pense “absence de règles” ce qui est tout à fait discutable). Au final, l’accès aux différents étages était assuré par des services de moto taxi (les ascenceurs n’ayant pas été installés pour raisons financières) gérées par des habitant.e.s (moyennant échange d’argent ou de services). La surveillance de l’immeuble étant également assurée ceux.celles-ci et fonctionnait sur un système de roulement. Bien sûr, tous les membres de la communauté n’assuraient sûrement pas tous les niveaux de responsabilité. Mais c’est sûr que ces prises d'initiatives et d’actions au sein de la communauté ont participé au bon fonctionnement de celle-ci.

Tout ça c'est synonyme de luttes aussi, bien évidemment

Et il y  a plusieurs échelles de luttes, comme un peu celles qu'on vit dans notre communauté Warcha

La reconnaissance de nos individualités au sein du groupe ; la reconnaissance de l'identité de ce groupe comme un ensemble hétérogène et dans le même temps avec des objectifs commun. cela s’inscrit aussi dans un lieu avec les tentions qui peuvent exister avec le voisinages qui ne voit pas toujours ces démarches d’un bonne oeil.

Quel est notre légitimité à agir dans un territoire et les  limites de nos actions dans cette environnement ? (les dynamiques du quartier autant tremplin/sources d'inspiration à nos actions mais aussi parfois des freins)

        Et tout ça  

ça tient bien sûr à notre implication, notre volonté  d'agir mais aussi d'être engagé.e.s

On ne peut pas prétendre à changer la société si déjà nous même au seis de notre petit collectif on n’arrive pas créer une synergie. Il y a un niveau d'expérimentation, de laisser faire et souvent des échecs  mais il faut aussi que ça soit vertueux, que ça inspire nos voisin.e.s, notre entourage. 

Tu as cité : les petites tâches du quotidien, au-delà de la qualité organisationnelle que ça peut représenter, ça a un impact fort au sein même de notre communauté (team warcha).  Cela aussi impacte directement le reste : notre relation au voisinage, notre relation au quartier, l’image que le projet dans sa globalité véhicule. On ne se limite pas par exemple à nettoyer seulement nos propres déchets, généralement on étend ce nettoyage à autour de nous. On devient responsables d’éléments appartenants à un ensemble plus grand que nous et on doit au maximum assumer ces responsabilités. Sinon notre attitude pourrait éventuellement être perçue comme du profit, ou un désintérêt voire du snobisme envers ce qui nous entoure et ce à quoi on appartient.

On est responsables des externalités qu'on renvoie sur plein de plans

Bon je vais ptet un peu loin...

"Cities have the capability of providing something for everybody only because and only when they are created by everybody" a écrit Jane Jacobs

ça renvoie bien l’idée d’une critique du système étatique pyramidale (un pouvoir plus diffus et notamment accessible au peuple est revendiqué) mais aussi responsabilisation de chaque citoyen.ne. Je trouve que ça représente bien notre méthodologie de travail à El Warcha (même si ce n’est pas formalisée de la sorte) : si on imagine notre groupe, notre communauté comme une entité ou un ensemble semblable à celui d’une ville, dont nous serions nous-mêmes les décideurs.ses et les acteurs.rices, alors cet ensemble créé se responsabilise par lui-même et notamment par ses membres.

Pourquoi la recherche de modèles alternatifs de vivre ensemble interroge notre rapport à la responsabilité? Disons qu’on peut en parler du sujet à plusieurs échelles. Mais finalement on en revient souvent au fait que si l’on assume pas sa part de responsabilité, on perd aussi une partie de notre liberté, ou de notre voix.

En fait si on reste à l'échelle du Warcha en particulier ce qui est intéressant c'est comment on peut mettre en lumière ses spécificités

Si on dézoome ou qu'on se pose la question plus globale du politique et de la responsabilité face à l’état c’est peut-être moins intéressant.

A l’atelier j’ai tendance à penser que celui qui travaille ou qui est actif d’une manière  ou d’une autre dans la vie de l’atelier, devrait pouvoir décider à part égale avec les autres de la manière dont il veut que l’atelier soit géré. On est souvent confronté à ce problème, quelqu'un qui donnerait son avis à une réunion mais qui n’est pas la pendant le reste de la semaine ou qui arrive plusieurs heures après tout le monde pour travailler. Comme on dit, les absents ont toujours tort, peu importe leur ancienneté, leur niveau de diplôme ou leur titre. 

Et je crois que cette question là peut aussi révéler l'implication personnelle au service du collectif 

Si tu choisis un mode de vie/travail autre que celui qui est communément imposé, ça peut vouloir dire plus de "libertés" (volonté de ne pas répondre à des injonctions formelles, je mets libertés entre parenthèses car bien sûr ces fameuses libertés sont souvent fantasmées et pas réelles) mais ça veut dire aussi beaucoup d'efforts qui sont déployés, beaucoup de prises de risques, ne pas être passifs et bien actifs, et être responsables non pas que de soi-même mais d'un ensemble de personnes.

 

Notre liberté est liée à notre indépendance ou interdépendance et donc à une certaine prise de responsabilités, mais quand la liberté repose sur le travail des autres cela devient une forme privilège. Si je n’assume pas certaines tâches  alors quelqu'un d’autre les fera pour moi.

Ma sœur disait toujours quand j’étais ado: 

“Tu veux changer le monde mais t’es pas capable de sortir les poubelles”

Ça résume bien tout le problème

Peut-on changer le monde et ne pas sortir les poubelles ?

Ahah

“Peut on changer le monde sans sortir les poubelles”

C'est bien ça comme titre

Oui, ça fera plaisir à ma sœur et à Valentina

Je t’avoue que c’est l’histoire de ma vie

Haha

Ahah

J'imagine que ça leur ferait plaisir !

Le seul truc c'est que ça, ça souligne aussi les différents degrés d'importance que chaque individu apporte aux choses. ça fait beaucoup de choses à aborder au sein d’un seul texte ahah...Toi tu considères peut-être que sortir les poubelles n’est pas une priorité pour le bon fonctionnement du collectif, car ça ne montre pas forcément pour toi une forme d'implication à prioriser

Et tu ressens pas les externalités négatives que ça représente quand tu le fais pas

(C'est un exemple hein je dis pas que c'est le cas)

Oui, Tu as raison

Vivre ensemble demande un certain niveau d'empathie

De mon côté, je voudrais peut-être que les poubelles soient sorties tous les jours, et toi admettons tous les 2 jours. Donc toi tu serais saoulé de devoir t’y atteler tous les jours, en pensant que ce n’est pas fondamentalement nécessaire et que laisser traîner cette tâche n’entrave en rien le bon fonctionnement du collectif. Et moi je serai irritée d'avoir l'impression de vivre dans une porcherie (exemple de nouveau je suis loin d'être une fée du logis), car à mon sens, cette tâche serait un maillon indéniable de la bonne organisation de notre communauté.

Et tout cela, ça peut mettre en avant les codes ou les cadres qu'on décide de mettre ou pas en place.

Et peut être une troisième personne ne sait même pas qu’il faut sortir les poubelles.

Laisser de la flexibilité et ne pas imposer de cadres ça peut a priori ne pas entraver les “libertés” de chacun.e et laisser une part de choix. Mais par la même occasion ça demande de prendre conscience de l’autre et de ses besoins

Par exemple à El Warcha on a très peu de cadres. 

On a jamais écrit de manifeste (même si ça pourrait rester sur le plan très philosophique). On en a parlé des dizaines de fois, et au final on ne l’a jamais fait. Est-ce que c’est un acte délibéré ? Peut-être, car on aurait l’impression que fixer un cadre ou formaliser des manières de faire ou d’agir nous enfermerait dans un système trop rigide.

Du coup, on doit s'appuyer directement sur le bon sens et à la prise d’initiatives et de responsabilisation “naturelle” de chacun.e. 

Après dans quelle mesure peut-on formaliser ces choses. La solution comme on le disait plus haut revient à favoriser l’empathie et donc pour chacun d’exprimer ses besoins, ses frustrations et d'être entendu par le reste du groupe. 

L’expérience a montré que la communication est souvent très compliquée pour nous. Malgré toutes nos aspirations, notre petite famille a souvent du mal à se dire les choses et à s’écouter. On rencontre à ce niveau des conflits dont chacun fait l'expérience au quotidien au sein de sa propre famille. 

comme tu disais, faut il seulement faire confiance à la sensibilité et à l'intelligence émotionnelle de chacun, ou doit on au contraire formaliser ces échanges et cadrer ces rapport afin d’assurer la pérennité du collectif?

Je viens d’avoir un coup de fil de Martin, mon collègue de El Warcha à Londres. Quand je lui est parlé de cette discussion et du fait qu’on avait du mal à conclure,  il m’a raconté l’anecdote d’un jeune militant américain dans les années soixante, qui voulait aller écouter Farrell Dobbs. Farrell Dobbs est une figure de la lutte sociale de l'après guerre aux Etats-Unis. Le président des “Teamsters” l’un des syndicat américain les plus puissants. Le jeune militant arrive malheureusement trop tard alors que le débat est terminé, les centaines de spectateurs sont rentrés chez eux et il ne reste qu'une seul personne au milieu de la salle entrain de balayer. Il se rapproche de lui et lui dit avec déception qu’il était venu pour écouter Farell Dobbs. Il se rend compte au même moment que le balayeur anonyme n’est autre que Farell Dobbs. Une histoire romantique, un peu trop héroïque, sûrement de la propagande pour enrôler les jeunes syndicalistes mais qui colle bien avec notre passion du balai !

The First Steps

For a few years I have been thinking on how to bring El Warcha to Lisbon, where I am from. I have been living in London for many years and lost touch with how Lisbon has been evolving, overcoming a big economical crisis and having an exponential number of tourists. In March I started a conversation with Diego about creating a space and sharing with him my thoughts about Lisbon. A city that has underlying issues related with segregation and class  inequalities. Diego is an artist that uses photography as a way of relationship, revalue the surroundings, look at time as contemplation and exchange knowledge with people. In 2013 he co-created the PROJETO LA TINHA, that organises workshops to show on how to make photographic cameras reusing cans of sardines, empty film rolls and tetra pak boxes. A project that promotes a sustainable approach, fueling curiosity and respect for the time of each process. Diego encountered our project El Warcha, in Nefta and Tunis, since then the feeling of keeping creating something together was growing. I believe that a project like El Warcha could be part of the change that is being built with the communities in Lisbon, starting with the youngest people, working on decentralised neighborhoods where less opportunities are available. These questions in relation to inclusivity and social education are being discussed and we can make part of that construction, in making Lisbon a more participative city.

During our first chat about a potential project, the conversation focused on areas we knew and we had worked with in the past. We also talked about the first steps at the beginning of a project. My idea was to develop a physical space, this had already been done in London and Tunis and proved to be central when working with a specific neighborhood. Time felt also an essential component to create change. Of course I have to remember that I would need to know the necessities first to respond to them, and that just comes with experimentation. 

When the lockdown started and I was back in London. On the phone Diego told me that he and a couple of other friends had started working on four emergency shelters located in Lisbon for homeless people and persons who were forced to leave the houses that they were sharing or got fired from their jobs.

There, they organised some creative activities with them during quarantine time. This shelter was created to support those who needed a space to sleep and food supplies, which was coordinated by Raquel Bravo - one of the volunteers. People have stories to tell and energy to create, they need human interaction as much as everything else. The problem was also that no one knew who was in charge of the management of the shelter. At a time when isolation is taking its toll on people, meeting the basic needs couldn’t be enough, Raquel shared the idea of creating a series of activities to generate deeper connections. Diego, Bruno, Sofia and Laura were the ones collaboratorating  through a silk-screen workshop ‘Bicicleta Manifesta’ proposed by ATELIER SER, printing words onto t-shirts, they realised that a few people already had been working with this technique and were interested in being involved with it again. Seeing the results of the workshop sparked the idea of making products, the participants were interested in creating a clothing social brand that would give them a sense of empowerment and resilience. And possibly, even commercialize in a solidarity economy approach, selling it as a revenue for the people that made the artwork.

The idea of generating a socially aware economy is important at this point when people are more and more vulnerable in the aftermath of the pandemic crisis. It’s an opportunity to find alternative ways of facing difficulties and be kind to one another. 

After their experience in the shelters, Diego suggested to me to develop the Cine bike, a project we had already worked on at El Warcha in the past. The Cine Bike project was already developed in Tunis 2018, and consists of a bike that projects films in the street as a way of engaging and inspiring people, while being out in the public realm. 

After he told me about their work we thought that it would be great to make this project happen in Lisbon and involve the homeless and the local communities, passers-by and everyone that might be interested in the project. The idea was to identify participants with different skill sets, such as woodworking, electronics, metal work and mechanics and build a cinema bike collectively. Once built we could go and project films in different parts of the city. This will also contribute to an independent cinema and talk about culture with the population in Lisbon. There is no support at the moment from the government to help people, organisations and companies associated with culture and the creative industry. This project would connect cinema education and public debate. It would be a chance to talk about social inclusion, immigration, culture, the right to the city, and so on.

These shelters will be closing in a few weeks so Bruno, Diego and Raquel shared with me the idea that they had of opening a space to develop creative workshops in relation to the creation of this “social brand” that could be a practical response to technical knowledge and a way to create an income for these people’s based in their participation on the work. 

I was happy to get on board and saw this as a chance to open a space that would respond or find the questions for what the society can demand - Taking that ideia further we want to develop a collaborative design studio inspired by El Warcha that has community as its main focus. This would be a community space for education, experimentation and the sharing of skills; Delivering free activities with open doors 5 days a week for anyone to come and use and develop projects with us. We started talking about the type of space we would need, the space would be divided between the workshop/tools, a space of creation and a gallery space to exhibit our work. 

The next step for now  is to better understand who could be involved, three different people already came forward to take part. We will then decide who should manage the space on a daily basis, how to generate a dynamic and involve collaborators who will programme the activities.

At the moment the process is to approach the council about potential spaces. Ideally the workshop would make sense, where it started with the community close to Anjos Neighborhood, Mercado de Culturas, Intendente Square but we are finding other opportunities across the river in Almada. The most important thing is to find the space that people feel welcome to and give a place for people to socialise, create relationships, express themselves and be proud of what they created. 

Photo credits:

Laura Boscia - Bicicleta Manifesta by Atelier Ser - Ines Marques

CECI N'EST PAS UNE FRIPE: An Ode to The Hafsia Fripes

Hafsia is famous for its bustling markets, buzzing with energy and sound as shoppers weave their way from stall to stall, digging through mountains of secondhand goods piece by piece.

If you are already familiar with El Warcha you know about our deep attachment to Hafsia. The fripe has been one of our favorite playgrounds over the years, a place full of inspiration, a perfect spot to get lost, to source recycled material and obviously to find the trendiest shirts. Most importantly we have friends and neighbors who depend on this market to support themselves and their families. To us, the fripe itself is so much more than... well...just that——a fripe.

On account of the devastating news of the fire that decimated a significant portion of the secondhand market on 13 May 2020, this week several of our members reflect on the humanity of our neighbor the fripe, the economic and social epicenter of our beloved houma.

Please donate to the Hafsia fripe Market fundraising:

€: https://www.gofundme.com/f/hafsia-fripe…

TND: https://www.cha9a9a.tn/fund/detail/fripe-el-hafsia-107566…

...Continue reading

Marlène

Les tissus qui servent à emballer et transporter les vêtements des fripes, on les voit souvent qui jonchent le sol après la fermeture des stands. Pour être fripés à la fin de la journée, ils le sont bien. Les premières fois où on est allé à leur recherche auprès des commerçants, beaucoup d’entre eux semblaient interloqués. On nous demandait ce qu’on allait en faire. Des doutes planaient sur notre possible revente de ceux-ci… Maintenant des vendeurs qui nous connaissent nous préparent toujours un stock de matière première, on est devenu les glaneurs des tissus.

En fait au début on ne savait pas trop vers où aller avec ces fameux tissus. On avait juste ce rituel : on les trouvait froissés par terre ou auprès des vendeurs, puis on les ramenait à l'atelier, les sélectionner pour leur couleur ou leur "rareté". Ensuite on les manipulait, on les tendait, on les tordait, on essayait de les tisser avec tout ce qu’on avait sous la main : de la corde, des ceintures en plastique, des serre-câbles…

Je me souviens d’un jour où on avait écumé tous les stands possibles des fripes à la quête des tissus. On en avait ramassé plein. Certains quasi neufs, d’autres en mauvais états. Arrivés à l’atelier, on s’est lancé dans une lessive géante pour tous les nettoyer : un gros seau pour l’eau savonneuse, un gros seau pour l’eau claire. 

On avait tiré des cordes sous les arches, et on s’est mis à étendre tous ces tissus un à un sur les fils pour les faire sécher. C’était hyper coloré et il y en avait partout. Ça m'a rappelé quand j’étais gosse et qu’on construisait des tentes avec ma soeur et les voisin.e.s avec tous les tissus qu’on trouvait dans la maison.

Plusieurs mois après ça, quand on a participé à l’exposition anniversaire des 100 ans du Bauhaus à Dar Lasram, on a voulu faire une installation en écho à notre source d’inspiration qu’est le quartier de la Hafsia. On voulait également intégrer d’une manière ou d’une autre les fripes, puisqu’elles font partie de l’identité du quartier. On est retourné à la quête de ces tissus. On ne voulait pas que notre installation soit figée, on la voulait vivante et en interaction avec les visiteurs de l’exposition. Surtout qu’elle prenait place dans la Dar El Harka du palais Dar Lasram. Cette partie du palais servait à l’époque aux employé.e.s de celui-ci, pour toutes les tâches manuelles comme la cuisine ou encore la lessive.

Les tissus y ont retrouvé les mêmes cordes, sauf que cette fois-ci on ne les a pas simplement étendus. On s’est inspiré du système pour hisser les drapeaux, avec un assemblage de corde et de bambou pour rendre l’ensemble structurant. Quand on s’amusait à faire monter et descendre les tissus c’était magique. On s’amusait comme des gosses. C’était comme les matelots d’un bateau, on a hissé les voiles colorées dans le ciel.

Justin

The human is becoming plastic, much like the Barbie and Ken dolls that my sister and I used to play with as children. The dolls appeared to resemble real flesh, their clothes real cotton and leather, and their houses real wood, metal, and stone. However, everything was merely plastic. In this sense, plastic is a fantastic material. It holds its values because it can take on many shapes, textures, and appear like almost anything else. The disadvantage of plastic is that much of its value comes only in appearing as something else. Plastic in itself as raw material, is rather uninteresting. This is opposed to something like wool or leather, which might be valued because of its qualities as warm or durable.

When I say that the new human is becoming plastic, I mean that how we value the human is becoming like how we value plastic. Namely, we value it based on how it can appear. All the while, we are losing interest in the material medium. Whether on TV, Instagram, the internet, or in magazines, we experience people through their appearances. Although we don’t always and completely value a person because of their appearance, usually someone’s appearance, the shapes of their bodies or style of their dress, is all we have to value them upon. This is true for the stranger in the streets as it is true for the model on a billboard. With a plethora of malls and retail stores, it is easy for anyone to buy a valued appearance in the form of a slim dress or adidas trainers--whatever seems at that moment to resemble the trendiest fashions being adorned by models, celebrities, or our sports idols. Retail stores necessarily have these fashions. They make their money and survive because they sell them. Today, with so much focus upon appearances, it is no surprise that so many of the clothes we find in retail stores are made of plastic. And with how much value we put on appearances over material substance, it is no surprise that we are often willing to pay exorbitant prices for a thing made of such cheap material (and likely made cheaply by mass production in overseas factories that barely pay their workers). 

Shopping second hand at the fripe doesn’t necessarily change anything. One can still buy plastic clothes and emulate in appearance the trendiest fashions; however, one has the option not to. The fripe invites us not to. Different styles both new and old and different materials from plastic to silk are all equalized. At the fripe all clothes are bunched together indistinguishably and, except for minor variances in price, they all cost the same regardless of material or style. Unlike clothes in a retail store, there is little concern for the trends of the moment or the amount of money that buying that trend will set you back. Instead, one can take journeys and detours into and around history and material. One can mix shoes made the year before with a skirt from the 1970s. One can enjoy the quality warmth of a thick wool jacket or buy a polyester sweater because it looks “cool.” Going to the fripe is also an adventure into the unpredictable of appearances, where even if you are after a specific style, the diversity of shapes and material drags you down an uncertain path. A bright color or oddly placed stripe that catches your eye may derail your search and send you off into a stylistic unknown. Often when prices are so low, there is little risk in trying out a risky style.

Ultimately shopping for clothes at the fripe is still about appearances. Yet, you are no longer bound to their plastic qualities of these appearances as you are in retail stores that have preselected the trends for you and laid them out  neatly folded and arranged on display shelves or mannequins. When you develop your appearance from the clothes you buy at the fripe it is the result of a series of choices you’ve made at various turns and cuts through the piles of indistinguishable clothes. But most importantly, as a stranger on the street or an image in someone's social media feed, with your fripe style you are not merely a plastic resemblance of something else--an uninteresting medium for the newest trends. Instead, you are your own human self. 

Ben

Most of it took place at night in a dark maze. Everyone at El Warcha got involved, Dali was welcoming participants, handing them a wristband: “Keep to the track” he said as a few shy participants started their journey into the dark. Lotfi was in a corner, suspiciously lighting a cigarette. Further down Mohamed was at the entrence of the souk el grana waiting with a dog. A headless shadow was floating on the wall, a dribbling swimsuit we had found at the fripe was hanging there. Eventually Elodie one of the actors brought it to mexico where her girlfriend is a diving instructor. Nour and Tayeb from Bab Jdid were dancing in a circle while a recorded voice was talking about goat fighting. There was a sea of black bin bags in a dim alleyway being dragged down mysteriously. Suddenly, you came across Dylan a scottish actor, trying to mimic the voice of an herbalist, explaining a conspiracy theory he had heard at Souk le Blat. Once at the corner of the fripe, the tailor was offering tea to everyone while pretending to work in the dead of the night. Finally we were all gathered in the middle of the fripe, the exact corner that has now gone in flames, all the stalls were deserted, someone was pointing a flashlight to lead the way. Shadow faces started appearing on the hanging fabric, recorded voices of inhabitant were telling the story of the “sabbat al 3arusa” (tunnel of the bride) and of the “hammam dhab” (hammam d’or), places linked to scary legends. A young bride stolen by the king of the jinn huddled at a walled up exit of a tunnel. One of the many stories one usually hear from Wajdi, fears tuned into legends. Now that this place has burnt down what will remain. “Dragons” was an immersive performance Theatre senza put together with support from l’Art Rue, most of us at El Wacha helped put it together. 

Aziz

Cartographie des Fripes :Kids Workshop with Katharina

Une Grande Carte de La Hafsia était tendu sur la table, des enfants tout autours chacun un feutre en couleur, ils associaient les formes a leurs identités :3attar, jéma3, stade, Vielle Fripe, Nouvelle Fripe.

Des contes surgissaient à chaque rencontre d’un lieu. Des souvenirs, des histoires Drôle, d’autre Familiale..

Katharina : ta3rfouh el Fripe el 9dim ?

                  Vous connaissez la vieille fripe ?

Montassar : chnéya na3rfouh ! jadi w Baba kénou yekhdmou ghadi, tawa ma3adech.

                   Et comment ! mon grand père ainsi que mon père travaillaient la bas

-Dans les fripes on trouve le monde 

Des catégories ont été établie, les vêtements, les chaussures, les accessoires, les ustensiles de cuisine..

Un badge au cou avec le nom et prénom, muni d’un porte document avec la carte des fripes en miniature, un stylo, des posthites de marquage et un contrat d’emprunt. Nous étions partie avec les enfants à la recherche des objets dans l’idée de réaliser une cartographie des fripes.

-La Fripothérapie

On s’était donc divisé en petit groupe, un adulte et 2 voir 3 enfants chacun. Par le billet du kit magique, les enfants se sont directe mis dans le rôle de chercheur, on arpentait les fripes a la recherche de l’objet désiré. On été juste des accompagnateurs et c’était a eux de parler ainsi que convaincre les marchands de nous prêter l’objet. C’était comme une chasse au trésor ! On se faisait guider par les enfants à travers les étangs, et les bas des corps.

Une fois l’objet trouvé, Ils faisaient remplir la fiche, Nom et Prénom du préteur, heure de rendre l’objet, signature des deux parties et enfin marquage du site dans la carte.

La plupart des marchands étaient à l’écoute attentive des enfants, ils se prêtaient aux jeux. On voyait bien leurs sourire face aux mots, ca les faisait marrer.

- Dessine ta trouvaille

De retour a l’atelier on s’était tous retrouver. il y avait de tout : un crampon, un gant de baseball, une poupée, un collier, T-shirt.. Absolument de tout !

Chaque enfant prend en photo son objet  trace le contour de l’objet sur un carton le découpe et attribue des couleurs a ceci.

Retour a la fripe pour remettre aux marchands leurs objets afin de remplir nos parts du contrat.

Aisha

On my first official day of work at El Warcha, I went in search of a shortcut through the medina that skipped the crowds. On a weekend, I could be one of them, strolling at a leisurely pace in search of nothing in particular, feasting my eyes on the symphony of color and texture found in the souks at Bab Bhar. 

But today, I boldly went in search of the road less traveled. Each time I turned, I visualized the map and said to myself, El Warcha is . . . this way. I kept up this technique as I zigzagged through alleys I had never seen, hoping I wasn’t headed to a dead end. I found myself in a market, where merchandise eventually shifted from readymade clothes to 9amech by the meter. A few more steps and I was ejected into a part of the bustling market that I actually recognized! Alhamdullilah! This fork was demarcated on my mental map by the vendor with his table of shoes and the wafting smell of rotisserie chicken. I took a left and continued towards El Hafsia. I slowed my pace, taking notice of all the shirts hanging neatly high above to my right and piles of colorful fabrics to my left. If I went forward and then turned right, I’d pass the tabouneh shop, then it was a straight shot to the studio. Instead I paused at a turn I didn’t usually take. I wondered what would happen if I went this way instead. I didn’t want to push my luck, so I continued onto the path I knew. 

For days I followed this same zigzag path. When I started developing the serigraphie project at El Warcha, I challenged myself to take different routes. While collecting motifs from the neighborhood, I was always in search of new paths and new sights. I made a point to never take the same exact walk to the studio twice. Eventually I explored that mysterious turn, finding myself in a small section of the fripe separate from the better-known mass of shops in the “Friperies de la Hafsia.” Each day I found something new in the collection of goods: housewares, sunglasses, carpets, backpacks, and ample clothing. Early on in my explorations, I discovered a stall with piles upon piles of used fabrics. Soon this section of the fripe became a part of my daily routine. A couple of vendors would call to me to check out their new stock of tablecloths, pillowcases, and bedsheets galore—-aka cheap canvas for serigraphie prints!

Passing under a rainbow of colors and digging through mountains of fabrics brought me energy and assurance each morning. The walk to El Warcha had become a ritual, one where familiarity and discovery meet. The habit of hunting for the right colors, textures, and fabric weight (or a clean enough tote bag) was sometimes like searching for a needle in the haystack. Nevertheless, the experience was always therapeutic, giving me a moment to breathe and be present in the moment, grounding myself for the day ahead. 

Over time, the mobile serigraphie project turned into the artwork Code of Being, a screen-printed collection of found fabrics with motifs inspired by the social and built environment of Hafsia. The printed elements hang on the line, just like the laundry you see out to dry all over the neighborhood, a spectrum of colors that brought me comfort each and every morning. While the beauty of Hafsia extends far beyond its markets, my memories from El Warcha cannot be separated from Hafsia or the fripe. All over my own home, I find countless reminders of the giving nature of the Hafsia fripe--in the softest (and cheapest) of t-shirts, the upcycled bed sheets that shade my balcony, and the most beautiful patterns of Hafsia manifested in ink. 

Shared spaces across ages

While looking at the footage of the event we did in november at Lowry house in London: “shared spaces across ages” Ines came across a moment when Joy was talking about the communal living room and expressing her concerns. “Have you ever seen a brown ceiling, they have been saying for a long time that they were going to repaint the room and change the curtains but I am pretty sure this won’t happen before I die.”  We wondered if we should put it into the video as Joy passed away a few months later, at the same time we felt it might be a way to pay tribute to this strong headed but always kind woman. As she predicted nothing has changed in the communal living room. 

This event: “shared spaces across ages” was organised by El Warcha at Lowry House, a shelter home in Tottenham (retirement home) where we have weekly workshops. Age segregation tends to exist across many levels; different age groups have different time-schedules, people live in different spaces, and access different services. However it seems critical to work toward spaces that integrate different generations; and programmes that aim at breaking isolation in favour of dialogues across the generations. This networking event and conversation was an opportunity to explore how creative practices can inspire an age diverse environment and how to address the challenges at stake.

The discussion started with presentations by artists and academics and was followed by a discussion where everyone in the room could engage. The atmosphere was layed back, most of us had a glass of wine and were seated in a circle, we also had some nice home made quiche to nibble on. Sophie Handler, urban researcher presented her Alternative Age-friendly Handbook; Mike Jenn told us about the Man’s Shed; and Alice Theobald, video-artist presented her film ”we may believe or we will never know” on her experience of working jointly with teenagers and elderly people. 

At some point during the discussion some of the residents from the home started to voice their discontent regarding the way the shelter home was run. While the discussion had been quite general with a mix of theory and practice, the way they addressed everyone was really specific and to the point. There were no representatives of the local authority around but Peggy and Costa had a clear message to whoever was listening. In our mind bringing artists, practitioners and academics to have a discussion was an opportunity to have a public debate, to inspire people and be creative. What we may have overlooked was how much this format actually resembled a council meeting. We were all seated listening to knowledgeable speakers and people had to wait their turn to share their views.

Mike who presented the Men’s Shed however made quite an impression on everyone. Mike is in his late seventies and one of the founders of the shed in the Uk, a workshop for elderly men to get together with now more than 400 groups across the country, a sort of modern version of the working men’s club of the 19th century. His presentation was really simple and down to earth, talking about the benefits of being active and getting together to build things. But perhaps more importantly he was the living proof of what he was preaching, having cycled all the way from Camden to Tottenham and showing a lot of passion in his talk. Peggy joked about the fact that he was probably one of those “vegans”. Point being Mike didn’t try to mix politics, art and culture, his message was simple and relatable.

Reflecting on this event with Ines we realised that, while the evening discussion was centred around the age differences and the idea of shared spaces, what was really at play was the issue of agency. Can one still be an actor of change in his or her environment past a certain age and what would be the tools needed to support people in that process.  It is something that is mentioned by Sophie Handler, in the video when she talks about active citizenship. Our idea of starting a design studio in a shelter home was to give residents the tools and space to come together and eventually start making small changes to the spaces they inhabit. The context of the council run shelter home was an ideal environment to test new approaches. Over a year we tried different types of activities. The format was quite simple, a drop in sessions every monday where people came together, had a cup of tea and eventually made something together. Eventually our workshop was understood by most residents as a form of social activity, something to pass the time and not necessarily as we hoped for initially, as a vector of change. Some of the furniture we had made together for the communal living room or even the artwork on the wall was regularly criticized and change was not always welcome.  It seemed that people were a lot more interested in making things for themselves, Gloria wanted a table for her sewing machine, Costa needed  a shelf, but making things for the communal lounge was not a priority, maybe more importantly it was the responsibility of the council and not themselves.  Also keeping people interested was a real challenge and no matter how much we tried different activities we still had difficulty to gather people around. 

As I was talking to Martin, one of the participants and local artist, on the phone about this and our role in Lowry house he got a bit frustrated at what he described as a dull and uneventful environment. While we reflected on why some people seemed uninterested, Martin argued: “People don’t get the full picture of what retirement means in this country, people who are no longer working have a low social status. They are not the ones trying new recipes, they are not making any of the products you might buy, they are not the ones who are going to get you a drink on a friday night, you are not going to date one of them. In the end they give up fighting, they don’t even compete among themselves. The only thing to do is to watch the telly.”

Martin went on to talk about soap opera, his dad was from Manchester and even though he had a day job in a factory he would also do creative projects on the side, he was a poet and a writer. In the 70s he was asked to do some script writing for Coronation Street (the most famous british Soap opera of all time set in Manchester), eventually he helped create two famous characters. He helped develop Hilda Ogden and Elsie Tanner, two strong headed women. As Wikipedia puts it Elsie is “feisty and bolshy” she is dubbed as the "siren of the street throughout the 1960s". Hilda’s name in the meantime is synonymous with a classic hard-working Northern working-class woman. Those women are the old strong headed icons of the working class, they are loud and have a big say in the community. “You don’t see these types of characters on TV anymore. Elderly people are not at all represented in the media, what do you think it does to you when you are watching TV all day? The only person they can relate to is the queen, at least it is someone their age. It is one of the rare superstars over 90 that you can still see on tv.”  

While the fictional characters from Coronation Street are strong reminders that our understanding of growing old and being part of a community has radically changed over the years. It also shows that the artists and the poets (script writers) may have a role to play in shaping our imagination and broadening our views on what it could look like. We felt after the event that maybe our attempt of mixing creative practices and certain community issues had not been entirely successful. However we realised that communication was not a straightforward process. As Alice mentioned maybe this is where “Imagination can be used as, the most important tool for empathy”.

by Ben & Ines

L’eau vient des maisons

(English translation bellow)

Un mardi

On va finalement pouvoir régler le problème des eaux usées qui fuyaient dans la cour..

Des grands tubes traversent les 3 étages, 3 d’entre eux étaient cassés.

On s’était mis d’accord avec Am Mohamed le peintre, maçon, plombier…  de tenter de les réparer.

A 13h

Les 3 étages devaient arrêter l’eau !

J’ai commencé à faire le tour des apparts, à toquer sur les portes des voisins un par un et demander de fermer l’eau de 13h à 14h.

Bloc B, 1er étage 

Une jeune dame m’avait ouvert la porte. C’est la fille de la dame qui habite là. C’est celle qui a invité ma collègue Inês chez elle lors qu’on construisait le système hydroponique. Dans leur balcon, elle a une menthe qu’elles ont toutes les deux planté ensemble. Elle m’a demandé d’entrer. J’ai dit bonjour à la maman, celle-ci m’avait demandé de donner à manger aux oiseaux « gris de Gabon » de son fils parce qu’elle ne pouvait pas les atteindre, on m’a offert une pomme et on s’était mis d'accord : de 13h à 14h.

2ème étage, il n’y a personne !

3ème étage, la maison de Ridha, son fils Aziz m’a ouvert la porte, 13h à 14h c’est bon.

Bloc A, 1er étage, toc toc toc, rien.

2ème étage pareil.

3ème étage, Amel m’avait croisé, demandé ce que je faisais dans leur immeuble. J’ai commencé à lui expliquer et là j’ai entendu des cris d’un bébé. Ça venait de chez elle, je ne savais pas qu’elle avait un bébé. Elle m’a alors demandé si je voulais la voir. Je suis entré, elle faisait le ménage. Au fond, à droite la chambre où y’avait le bébé. Elle était dans un grand lit entouré de coussins. Amel l’a prise et me l’a donné dans mes bras.

Personne au 3ème étage.

Retour à la cour. Il n’en restait qu’un le pire d’entre tous, celui de Ta Hayet qui habite au RDC et qui avait sa porte fenêtre ouverte. Je l’ai appelée et expliquait la situation. Elle m’a fait comprendre qu’elle en avait marre de ces problèmes d’eau. “Attends-moi, j’arrive” ; elle a mis son jelbeb et on est partis ensemble.

Bloc A, gauche. Pendant notre ascension on parlait de la lumière du matin qui entrait dans son salon. Combien ça lui faisait du bien, contrariée à garder ses fenêtres fermées. C’est la seule chose qu’elle accepte du dehors. Avec la situation de son frère, ils ont dû couper la maison en deux, chacun sa porte.

Au 3ème étage, on a pu parler qu’à une voisine. Les autres ne sont pas là.

14h

Am Mohamed n’a pas pu tout fixer, seulement boucher les petits trous ; celui au-dessus de la maison de Ta Hayet va falloir le changer...  

La situation n’a pas changé, l’eau fuite encore. 

Par Aziz Aissaoui

-------------------------

English Translation

Water comes from the homes

A tuesday

We will finally be able to solve the problem of sewage leaking in the yard.

Large tubes run across the 3 floors, 3 of them are broken.

We agreed with Am Mohamed the painter, mason, plumber ... to try to repair them

At 1pm

The 3 floors had to stop running the tap water!

I started going around the apartment, knocking on the neighbors' doors one by one and asked to turn off the taps from 1 to 2 pm.

Block B, 1st floor, a young lady opened the door for me, this is the daughter of the lady who lives there, she was the one who invited Ines, my colleague to her house when we were building the hydroponic system, on their balconies they have a mint that they planted together. She asked me to come in, I said hello to the mom, she asks me to feed her son's "Gray Gabon" birds because she couldn't reach them, she gave me an apple and we agreed on the 1 to 2 p.m sheduel.

2nd floor, nobody is around!

3rd floor, Ridha's house, her son Aziz opens the door for me, 1 to 2pm is good.

Block A, 1st floor, tok tok tok nothing. 2nd floor alike. 3rd floor, I come across Amel, asked she asks me what I am doing in their building. I start explaining to her as I hear a baby screaming. The sound comes from her house, I didn't know she had a baby. She asks me if I want to see her. She invites me inside, she was cleaning, at the back, on the right, there was a room where the baby was. She is lying in a big bed surrounded by cushion. Amel took her and put her in my arms...

No one on the 3rd floor.

Back in the courtyard, the worst of all is there waiting for me, Ta Hayet, who lives on the ground floor, she has her window open, I call her and explains the situation. she tells me, she is fed up with this water issues. Wait for me I'm coming, she puts on his Jelbeb and we go together.

Block A, Left. While we are going up the stairs we talk about the morning light coming into her living room. How good it makes her feel, she gets annoyed when she has to keep the windows shut. It’s the only thing she gets from outside. With her brother's situation, they had to cut the house in half, each has his own entrance.

On the 3 floors, we could only speak to one neighbor. The others are not there.

2 p.m.

Am Mohamed could not fix everything, he only filled the small holes, the pipes above the house of Ta Hayet will have to  be changed. The situation has not changed, the water is still leaking.

by Aziz Aissaoui

Haya Bismillah

Every culture has its own relation to food, especially in Tunisia. Here we are famous for our spicy cuisine and incredible sense of hospitality. 

A: While El Warcha is known as a design studio, we are first and foremost a community connected by a love for many various things: OSB, orbital sanders, the Hafsia square, and sharing ... food! 

R: We love food so much that we are talking about it for almost one hour now! In the middle of the day while I am fasting for Ramadan! 

A: So why did you choose for us to talk about food?

R: For me, my best and most vivid memories at El Warcha are being all together around the same table sharing sardina سردينة (sardines), harissa هريسة, Tabouna طابونة, and stories. I miss having 3oura عورة our one-eyed studio cat between our legs, bothering us for some leftover food. Moments where we are not talking about work, just laughing. 

A: Like a family that gathers together at the end of a long day of work or study, exchanging news between mouthfuls of hot, delicious foods. From mlawi ملاوي and chapati شباتي, s7an tounsi صحن تونسي and macarona مقرونة, so many signs of Tunisian life, culture, and values can be found in a meal. 

T7eb chwaya? your coworker, friend, or neighbor says while offering you a bite (or three) from their sandwich. هيا بسم الله! Haya bismillah! Ija koul! إيجى كول! Come eat with us! Hat el khoubz! هات الخبز! Pass the bread! Food isn’t simply life sustenance, but the way we live, connect, celebrate, and love ... Even if the Tunisian tradition of splitting the شقالة (one giant plate for the family) has become less common. 

R: But at least we keep sharing food in our happiest and hardest moments of our lives. Big white tables, people eating  Tajin طاجين, Kosksi كسكسي, and slata mechouia سلاطة مشوية . You can not find a big difference if it is a wedding or funeral. People around food are happy. “ديما الهمهاما موجودة”.

A: The sharing of bread remains a practice of meal as ritual, one that grows and sustains our social bond. No one eats alone.

R: Everywhere El Warcha has moved, there have been meals shared. Justin’s house, Dar Interference, Marlene’s house, the second and third studios ...

A: And countless lunches in the main Hafsia square! Makeshift tables are thrown together, a plank of OSB atop two horses or plates precariously balanced on folding chairs from the Cinema Bike. Such strong memories of eating, the laughter and buzzing energy, stick with us. 

In Summer 2019, in our storage closet that looks more like a junkyard, stuffed with scrap materials and bicycle parts, we discovered an old, broken parasol. The morning was spent fixing it up, everyone wrapped up in the cutting and assembling of replacement parts, motivated by the fantasy of a team trip to the beach. I remember this day so clearly, not because of what we made in the workshop, but because of all the times afterwards where we huddled tightly together under the parasol. Under its shade, we hid from the summer sun. Under its shelter, we made patterns for serigraphie. Under it we found refuge in Place de La Hafsia, where we shared a gourmet meal of gouta ڤوتة , harissa هريسة, sardines, and fresh mlawi ملاوي from the shop 10m away. It was the first time in my entire life that I tried sardines. 

R: Now in quarantine, I find myself craving this often, missing our time together ... I remember once, I was ‘ شاهية روز جربي محرحر’ and Justin came to the studio with big plates of it like he was reading my mind. It was the best coincidence. Also my first iftar outside the house in Ramadan (2018) was in Marlene’s house.

A: Plus the mini barbecue cut by Aziz and Mohamed from an old gas tank (2019), and Justin’s going away breakfast (2019), our list goes on and on. In some memories, we remember the joy most vividly, like Radhouan’s 25th birthday, his smile as big as the grin of the Cheshire cat from Alice and Wonderland. Birthdays at El Warcha take many forms, candles and sparklers standing in chocolate cake for Radhouan, an arrangement of tarte for me, a pile of mlawi for Rania Lahmer, or even the mountains of spaghetti you and I prepared together for Marlene. 

R: Yes, Marlene’s birthday was epic, the spaghetti and the peanut butter cake was so delicious. I am jealous, ‘غرت برجولية’ ! Don't forget my birthday on the 16th of August!

A: In other stories, smell serves as a trigger. 

R: Yeees! I miss sitting in the courtyard of the building adjacent to the studio and smelling food from the windows.

A: The smell of different meals wafting down from kitchens four or five stories above ...

R: Me and Big Aziz used to play a game, guessing what people are cooking. “Mmmm salata machwiya! Mmmmmm tagine! Mmmmm couscousi!” Even without directly interacting with or seeing the neighbors, the sense of smell makes us feel closer to them. 

A: When we smell fish, we remember our kind neighbor who overheard there was a foreigner visiting Hafsia who wanted to try couscous with fish. Days later, she delivered a plate of couscousi bel hout كسكسي بالحوت, exactly what Inês had been craving, to the studio. This authentic sign of love and generosity beamed all the way to El Warcha London.

R: She is so kind, one day we had been working in the courtyard and noticed راحة قليان the smell of frying. After a few minutes, she came with yoyo يويو for everyone. Super delicious! Sharing food promotes social habitability. 

A: It’s the ultimate sign of love. It’s really beautiful, the meal as a ritual. 

R: It's all about the process. From the very beginning it is collaborative: walking to marché central, each person buying what they want, preparing the table, buying a cold bottle of

coke, washing the super dirty plates in the studio, cooking together, bonding together. “How do you do this? Does it taste good?”

A: In this exchange of knowledge, cooking becomes a creative project where everyone shares their own touch, technique, and taste. Food facilitates the building of connections between people. Through the cooking and sharing of traditional dishes by different hands, we can learn a surprising amount of things about a person: their preferences, background, culture, and family. The spices they use, how much, and the order ingredients are added reveals the history unique to each region and family. 

R: We used to buy a lot of croissants for breakfast, but since you came,  pancakes became the star of our morning yummys in the studio.

A: I LOVE PANCAKES. They hold a special value for me for many reasons. Pancakes with my family were a staple of my life growing up. Sunday morning, still in bed with my eyes closed, waking up to the smell of my dad making breakfast, then fighting at the table about the “right way” to eat pancakes: honey or syrup, stacked or not. To each their own. 

R: It's the same for me and my family! I woke up on weekends only if I heard my father bought fatayr ايجا فطاير سخونة”  فطاير “. Everyone in my family has their own favorite, crunchy versus fluffy, with honey versus sugar or معجون ma3joun. Everyone is satisfied in their own way. 

A: The pancake/fatayr experience is universal, just with different foods around the world or in different families. Each person remains an individual while we are all sharing. 

A: At El Warcha, pancakes symbolize the studio’s relationship between the members as a team and a part of the community. Twice we have made pancakes at the cafe across from the studio, cooking over the gas stovetop they use to heat tea. The pile of pancakes grows and shrinks as pieces are shared with the cafe’s patrons, then taken across the street and placed upon our table, a plank of OSB. 

For me, the act of making pancakes in Hafsia highlights El Warcha’s reputation and place within the community: a group of creative people doing strange, yet wonderful things together. After all, it’s not every day you see two women speaking Arablish (a mix of Arabic and English) while flipping pancakes behind the counter of Cafe El Houma (the neighborhood men’s cafe).

R: They love us! Before El Warcha I was not able to enter a men’s cafe. Now, I do whatever I want behind the “contoire”, like I’m in my house.

R: Now we arrive at the question, what kind of world do we want to return to after quarantine? 

A: For me, the answer is clear. At El Warcha, every meal is a picnic. In our family, everyone gives and everyone takes. I want a huge machwa مشوى (barbecue) in the streets. 

R: I dream of us around a kas3a قصعة of kosksi, eating all together with the community from the same plate. The goal is to bring people back together, no matter how simple or complicated the meal. A line of tables in the middle of the street because sharing is caring.

A: Yes! The act of making the food and preparing the table is a group effort: the chopping of vegetables side-by-side and foods roasted on our DIY machwa. Colorful serigraphie banners hang from building to building over the communal table, running all the way from our beloved Cafe El Houma to the little hanout حانوت on the corner.

Imagine a community food festival that inspires us to come together and bring what we can. A plate, a chair, a cup, a cake, even just a tongue to taste. But most importantly, a vision to co-create. The pitter patter of children running builds our jaw جو (ambiance). Their laughter fuels us, their energy the key spice in our bubbling stew. 

R: We have our grill. All the food ready. All we ask is for people to come. 

A: The sound in the street drops suddenly, leaving only the echo of the call to prayer أذان in the distance. A few prayers whispered, then bread ripping apart, crusts crunching, elbows bumping, hands racing to the mouth with food that goes straight to the heart.

In this vision, things are not “back to normal.”

They’re better. 

Text co-written by Aisha Abbassi and Rania Triki

Glossary of terms

هيا بسم الله !

Haya bismillah! An invitation to join and eat.

إيجى كول

Ija koul! “Come eat!”

عورة

3oura. The naughty cat of our third studio. “A-oo-ra” literally means one-eyed. This word is also used to tease someone who has bad aim. 

شقالة

Ch9ala / shkala. A huge plate used to serve a communal dish. Often used for couscous or macarona. 

قصعة

9asa3 / Qasaa. Another word for ch9ala. A big, communal dish. 

هريسة

Harissa. Spicy red pepper paste. A staple in Tunisia! 

سردينة

Sardina. Sardines.

ڤوتة 

Gouta / rigouta. A creamy, fresh, soft and spreadable cheese. Similar in texture and taste to Italian ricotta. 

هات الخبز!

Hat el khoubz. “Pass the bread!” Here, bread is essential. Bread is life!

طابونة

Tabouna. A circular bread. traditionally baked in a special clay oven that is also called “tabouna.”

ملاوي

Mlawi. (fast food) A delicious wrap made from semolina flour. Can be filled with harissa, meats, tuna, cheese, egg, vegetables. As you like it!  

شباتيChapati. (fast food) A sandwich made with round, fluffy bread. Can be filled with harissa, mayonnaise, meats, tuna, cheese, omelette, veggies, and parsley. As you like it!

صحن تونسي

Sahen tounsi. (fast food) Translates literally to “Tunisian plate.” A small dish with salata machwiya, harissa, tomato, lettuce, cucumber, tuna, olive oil, olives, and semi-cooked egg on top. Eaten with tabouna طابونة or baguette. 

كسكسي

Kosksi / couscousi. A Tunisian specialty dish made from semolina ground by a millstone. The small grains are steamed and served with a rich, red stew on top. The dish may include potatoes, carrots, pumpkin, peppers, hummus (chickpeas), meats, seafood, raisins, nuts, hard-boiled eggs, or herbs, depending on the region and occasion. 

كسكسي بالحوت

Couscousi bel hout. Couscous with fish.

مقرونة

Macarona. A macaroni dish with a spicy red sauce. 

طاجين

Tajin. A Tunisian specialty similar to a crustless quiche. Always made with eggs and herbs. Also common to have potatoes, meats, or cheese.  

"شاهية روز جربي محرحر"

Chahiya roz Djerbi mharhar. "I was craving spicy Djerbi rice.”

روز جربي محرحر

Roz Djerbi mharhar. A rice dish unique to the island of Djerba in the south of Tunisia. Includes lots of herbs, peas, and usually chicken. 

سلاطة مشوية

Slata mechouia. Literally translates to “grilled salad.” A mixture of tomatoes, onions, peppers, and garlic are roasted over a fire and then ground into a spicy dip. 

فطاير

Fatayr. A crunchy, deep-fried dough usually eaten with honey or sugar. 

يويو

Yoyo. A small fried donut, soaked in a sweet syrup. 

حانوت

Hanout. A name for a small neighborhood store that sells a variety of foods and household items. 

جو

Jaw. Atmosphere, ambiance, or energy. 

أذان

Adhen. The call to prayer. 

مشوى

Mechwa. A grill or barbecue used for cooking foods. 

 راحة قليان

Riha qalyan. The smell of frying. 

“ديما الهمهاما موجودة”

Dima al hamhamaa mawjouda. A phrase meaning “A lot of delicious foods are always there.”

"غرت برجولية!"

Ghert bourjoulaya! “Oh, man! I’m jealous!”

"ايجا فطاير سخونة”

Ija fatayr skhouna! “Come, hot fatayr!”

Men’s cafe

Coffee shops in Tunisia are split into two categories: قهوة (cafe “for men”) or Salon de Thé (also known as “cafe mixte”).

Un petit bateau sur l'eau

(english version below)

Du haut de l’immeuble du petit aziz on a toute la médina à nos pieds, en bas les habitué du café sont sur la place. Au loin c’est la mer qu’on imagine, une échappée. Le petit Aziz a fait un contrat avec Bassem, il allait l’aider à construire le bateau mais Bassem devrait l'emmener en ballade une fois que ca serait fini. Dans le quartier tout le monde vient nous voire, “c’est vrai que vous construisez un bateau? Vous allez ou?” Ils rigolent… On sait même pas si il va passer entre les arcades de l’immeuble, si ca passe ca va etre juste! Il est là devant l’atelier, a attendre comme tous les vendredis que Bessem et ses matelots en herbe viennent continuer le travail. 

C’est pas évident de construire un bateau… Tout a commencé quand Bassem a vue le petit Aziz fabriquer le auvent avec des lattes de bois, une sorte de structure en contreplaqué avec de fine couche de bois assemblé en arc de cercle. Quand il a vue ca, il a dit avec cette technique on peut construire un bateau. On avait trouver un plan sur internet, un plan en libre accès. Il y avait nous et Bassem le commanditaire, avant il faisait de la planche à voile et il avait toujours voulu construire un bateau. Bassem il est maroquinier de profession, il a son atelier à côté du café en face de notre atelier. Toutes la famille est venu nous voire, ses deux frères, son père, ils sont tous passionnés par l'idée. Tout le monde passe à l’atelier, donne son avis. Un vendredi Bassem est venu avec sa fille et son neveux, ils se sont mis au travail, on a bossé tous ensemble, ils étaient contents. Sa fille a même fait un peu de sérigraphie avec Aisha. D'abord il y a eu un grand travail de découpe, on a fait faire certaine pièces a Kallaline vers le marchand de bois et d’autre derrière les fripes, c'était un peu technique et on avait pas les machines qu’il fallait.  Sinon tout se passe a l’atelier, on utilise ce qu’on a comme outils et machines. La colonne vertébrale du bateau est divisé en deux, il a fallu une mortaise pour arriver à faire toute la longueur de 6m du bateau, on a fait une clef et on a mis de la résine. Toute la première parti du travail, pour réaliser les ponts du bateau, El Knater. on l’a faite à l'intérieur de l’atelier en décembre. Au début tout était en pièce détaché. Un vendredi on est sorti sous les arches devant l’atelier, on avait des tables en métal qu’on avait récupéré du collège d'à côté et on a mis la colonne dessus.On a assembler les fesses “Terma” et le nez ”Khcham” du bateau. Au début, c'était difficile de voir que c'était un bateau.  Toute la semaine on a installer El Knater: 1, 2, 3… Petit a petit ca nous est apparu, c'était magique. La les gens dans la rue ont commencé a venir nous voire et à s'arrêter devant le chantier. La rumeur s’est répandue dans le quartier. C’est vrai, vous construisez un bateau? Ca coute combien? En fait on sais pas trop combien ca coute, c’est Bassem qui va acheter le bois. Un bateau ça n’a pas de prix.

Tout le monde met la main à la patte, c’est ca qui est énorme, c’est une petite aventure de quartier. Ca prend du temps de construire un bateau, ça nous accompagne dans notre quotidiens. On s'endort avec le soir. Il y a des jours ou on le touche pas, ou c’est seulement le petit Aziz qui travaille dessus. C’est dingue tout ce que tout le monde ramène. Aziz c’est l'énergie, la force, du caractère, Fedi kifkif. Il faut pas croire que c’est de la joaillerie, ca demande beaucoup de force, tu entends le bois qui craque ou qui grince quand tu assembles les pièces. Dali lui est plus doux, c’est la finesse. Moi (le grand Aziz) Bassem m’appel pour tirer des trait, pour trouver une courbe, pour les fesses “Terma” on l’a tracé ensemble, avec un fil tendu, une grande équerre. J’aime bien aussi remplir les vides entre un morceau de bois et un autre. Sculpter une chute, finir une jointure. Un jour Bassem et Aziz ont ramené deux planches de 5.20m, et la, ils ont commencé à suivres la ligne du bateau, on a pris notre temps, c'était magnifique. On voyait le bateau, c’est vraiment là qu’il nous est apparu. Une belle silhouette, on ne s’attendait pas a ca. Pendant tout ce temps de travail on imaginait les lignes et puis un jour c'était la, c'était beau de le voir. 

Bassem c’est lui le chef de l'équipage, il connaît les bateaux, il avait l’image dans la tête et nous on a rappliqué avec ce qu'on savait de menuiserie. Quelques fois Bassem venait à l’atelier alors qu’on était pas toujours disponible. On a  pas mal de projets en même temps et on ne peut pas dédié tout notre temps au bateau. Il bossait dans son coin mais c'était pas toujours facile parce qu'il demandait souvent aux garçons un coup de main et ça nous empêchait d'avancer sur le reste. On a fini par trouver un équilibre, le vendredi c’est jour du bateau. Ca fait du bien, on se retrouve tous ensemble, quelques fois c’est Bassem qui fait un plat de makarouna, on cuisine les pâtes ou le Ojja dans la cour ou devant l’atelier. On dirait qu’on navigue déjà. 

Pour ce qui est du paiement, on savait pas trop comment faire, le bateau c’est pas une commande comme les autres. Finalement on a décidé de faire un troc, Bassem il a des machines et de la matieres premiere dans son atelier, selon nos besoin il pouvait nous en fournir ou nous prêter des machines. Pour nous c’est aussi une opportunité d’apprendre de nouvelles techniques, un échange de savoir. 

Dans le Baron de Munchausen de Terry Gilliam il y a cette scène où tous les habitant du quartier donnent leurs vieux draps pour construire un ballon. La ville est assiégée par les  turcs et le hero s’envole au milieu de la foule pour finalement atterrir sur la lune. C'est une scène qui est toujours resté gravé dans ma mémoire, d’un coté pour le coté féérique de la montgolfière qui s’envole au dessus de la ville. Mais surtout l'idée de tout un quartier qui travail en secret dans une cour d’immeuble. La force du rêve partagé, d’une chose un peu absurde qu'on va faire tous ensemble, un grain de sable dans la machine.

Quand il pleut pas en Tunisie, dans les villages les enfants confectionnent des poupées avec des bout de tissus et il l’attachent en haut d’un bout de bois. Apres ca il sortent tous ensemble dans le quartier en criant : “kayma ya kayma,Inchallah trawah aayma, inchallah trawah mabloula!” Poupée, poupée, j'espère que tu vas rentrée mouillé! 

Grand Aziz & Ben

// Translation //

Un petit bateau sur l’eau

From the top of little Aziz’s building we can see the whole medina at our feet. Below the regulars are sitting in the cafe on the square. In the distance we can imagine the sea, a breakaway. Little Aziz made a contract with Bassem, he was going to help him build the boat but Bassem would have to take him for a ride once it was finished. In the neighborhood everyone comes to see us, "Is it true that you are building a boat? Where are you going?" They laugh.... We don't even know if it will go through the arches of the building, if it does it will be a really close fit! It is there in front of the workshop, waiting  for Bassem and his sailing crew to continue the work as they do every friday.

It’s not easy to build a boat… It all started when Bassen saw little Aziz making the awning with wooden slats, a kind of plywood structure with a thin layer of wood assembled in an arc. When he saw it, he said with this technique we can build a boat. We had found a technical drawing on the internet, an open source plan. There was our team and Bassem. He used to do some windsurfing and he had always wanted to build a boat. Bassem is a leatherworker by profession. He has his workshop next to the cafe in front of El Warcha. His whole family came to see us including his three brothers and his father. They are all passionate about the idea. Everyone comes to the workshop and gives their opinion. One Friday Bassem came along with his little daughter and his nephew. We worked together and they were happy. Her daughter even did a bit of screen printing with Aisha. 

For making the boat, first, there was a lot of cutting. It was a technical job and we didn’t have all of the machines. So we made certain pieces at Calaline next to the wood merchant and others behind the frippes (second hand clothes market). Otherwise, everything happened in the workshop and we used tools and machines that we have. The spine of the boat was divided in two, it took a mortise to make the full 6m length of the boat. We made a key and we put some resin between the pieces. This was the first part of the work. To make individual pieces of the boat we did it inside the workshop in December. At the beginning everything was in seperate parts. One Friday we went out under the arches in front of the workshop, we had metal tables that we had recovered from the college next door and we put the column on it. We assembled the "Terma" butt and the "Khcham" nose of the boat. At first it was difficult to see that it was a boat. However, over a period of a week as we started to install the rest, the ribbs: 1, 2, 3… little by little it appeared to us. It was magic. The people on the street started coming to us and even stopping at the construction site. Rumors started to spread around the neighborhood. ‘Is it true, you’re building a boat? How much does it cost?’ In fact we didn’t really know how much it cost. It’s Bassen who buys the wood. How much does a dream cost?

Everyone is taking part, it's big, it's an adventure for the whole neighborhood. It takes time to build a boat, it accompanies us in our daily lives. There are days when we don't touch it, or it's just little Aziz working on it. It's crazy what everyone brings to it. Aziz has the energy, the strength, and he brings character. Fedi kifkif (does the same). This is not the job of a jewelry maker, it takes a lot of strength, you hear the wood creaking when you assemble the pieces. Dali is softer, he brings finesse to the work. Bassem calls me (the Grand Aziz) to draw lines. To find a curve for the butt "terma", we drew it together, with ropes and a large square. I also like to fill in the gaps between one piece of wood and another, sculpt an off cut, finish a joint. One day Bassem and Aziz brought back two boards of 5.20m, they started to follow the lines of the boat, we took our time, and it was magnificent. We could see the boat. This is really when it appeared to us. A beautiful figure, we did not expect that. During all this time we imagined the lines and then one day it was there. It was nice to see it.

Bassem is the captain, he knows about boats, he had the picture in his head and we came along with whatever we knew. Sometimes Bassem would come to the workshop but we weren't always available to work on the boat. We have a lot of projects at the same time and we can't dedicate all of our time to the boat. He worked in his corner but it was not always easy because he often asked the boys for help and that prevented us from advancing on the rest. We ended up finding a balance. Friday is dedicated to the construction of the boat. It feels good, we all get together, sometimes Bassem makes a dish of makarouna and we cook pasta or Ojja in front of the workshop. It feels like we are sailing already.

As for payment, we didn't really know how to do it, the boat is not an order like the others. Finally we decided to barter. Bassem has machines and raw materials in his workshop, according to our needs he could give us or lend us machines. For us it is also an opportunity to learn new techniques; an exchange of knowledge.

In the Baron of Munchausen by Terry Gilliam there is this scene where all the inhabitants of a neighbourhood give their old bed sheets to build a balloon. The city is besieged by the Turks and the hero flies away in the middle of the crowd to finally land on the moon. It is a scene that has stuck with me. The magical sight of the makeshift hot air balloon that flies above the city. But most importantly, the idea of ​​a whole neighbourhood working secretly together in a courtyard to make it happen. There is a lot of strength in a shared dream. A somewhat absurd thing that we will all decide to do together. A bit of sand in the machine.

When it’s not raining in Tunisia, in the villages children make dolls with pieces of fabric and tie it at the top of a piece of wood. After that they all go out together on the street, shouting: “kayma ya kayma, Inchallah trawah aayma, inchallah trawah mabloula!” Little Doll, little doll, I hope you will come back wet.

Grand Aziz & Ben

Staying in the game

What is the role of social media for the El Warcha project? What do we do with our Instagram, our Facebook, or our website? These have become extremely important questions in light of the Coronavirus worldwide quarantine and now that we have become so much more dependent on social media as our means of community engagement.

Last summer, I was in London for a couple weeks helping Ben and Ines at our new El Warcha studio. We had just finished a workshop and decided to unwind at a pub a few blocks away from Lowry house, a public assisted living house for elderly and one of the main sites for the EL Warcha London Studio. The workshop focused on building table legs by sculpting them in clay and then waste casting them in cement using plaster. The work was fun, but the participation dismal. Yes a few people had showed up, but in the end, hardly any of them participated and all but one actually showed any interest in what we were doing. As an El Warcha workshop, this was something we had often faced before in Tunis and something I would face again when starting the the El Warcha studio in Davis. It was a part of the challenge of the project: how to build interest, participation, and ultimately a community around art and design. The lack of participation still feels bad; a heavy weight that can crush passion and the optimism for success, but also a base of measurement that makes the really successful and popular workshops feel that much better. We retreated from this minor defeat behind a couple of pints and evaluated the workshop discussing what went well and what didn’t. Meanwhile Ines was posting photos and descriptions of the workshop on our social media. She showed us what she posted. The posted photos were great. They really made it seem like the workshop was a success. Somehow the photo of a couple participants poking at clay suggested an active and engaging workshop. Quite far from what all of us admitted we felt about it. So we talked about it. What was it exactly that we were doing with social media and why was it important?

To start, Ben was sure to criticize me for not posting on social media enough in Tunis. He had been picking up the slack by posting for us based on images we all shared with each other regularly through messaging. It was true, up to that point it was only Rania who had been doing posts back in Tunis. I didn’t even have an Instagram account at that point. A big problem considering that social media is key in promoting the project. It was key, as Ines put it, “for staying in the game.” All creative projects in our field have social media. It would be like we didn’t exist without it. We also talked about how it was important for funding. This is a lesson that I would later find out when starting the Davis, California El Warcha studio. Having a well established and active social media showed both financiers and potential partners that the project was serious and effective.

We agreed that social media was an essential part of El Warcha in terms of having a public presence, yet as a pedagogical tool, social media was failing us. Namely, if the point of El Warcha was also to build and disseminate knowledge about creating community through art and design, then it did no good to hide the challenges we faced doing this through polished Instagram posts. Wouldn’t it make more sense for us to present on social media the hardships and challenges as we experienced so that others might use and build upon what we do for their own projects? Naturally we all agreed that this should be the case, yet to do so would be risky.

If you browse the pages and posts of projects in our line of work on Instagram, all the projects, for the most part, seem amazing, polished, finished, and perfect. An Instagram reality that does not truly reflect the experience of doing artistic projects. By not following suit, we face the risk that our public and partners think that something is wrong with us or that our funders or potential funders think we are relatively incapable. We risk the survival of the project.

Earlier this week, while talking online together, me in California, Marlene in France, and Aisha in Tunis, I mentioned that I planned to write this weeks blog post about our use of social media. At this, Aisha pointed out another key challenge of the current nature of creative projects on social media. The fact that most projects you come across seem successful and polished makes the process of undertaking new projects extremely daunting, especially for those that have never done it before. Any of us who have undertaken collaborative, participatory, or community art projects before knows that the process is slow, full of setbacks, and emotionally challenging. It does not seem easy to arrive somewhere, whether a street, a square, a playground, or a community center, and start from nothing and get to a finished project. You have to build interest and partnerships, find allies, navigate bureaucratic hurdles, build trust with the local community, find support and funding, get material, encourage collaboration and creativity, and repeat it all over and over again each day for weeks or months before you even start to get somewhere. However, if you break it down bit by bit and day by day, it is something anyone with a little motivation can do.

While we want to succeed as best as we can in our own community collaborative projects, I am sure everyone of us on the EL Warcha team also wants to see El Warcha type creative projects spread. The challenge is how we might best use our social media, our main contact with the public, to promote collaborative art and design. Right now, during the pandemic we have been working on the Quarantine Play Manual, a series of social media posts that provide instructions for how people might be creative at home using household supplies. This project is one of the first times we’ve utilized social media beyond the mere documenting (sometimes in exaggerated ways) of our projects. Each week we’ve posted a new set of step-by-step instructions for a different at-home activity. Once the quarantine is over and we continue our usual collaborative project work, continuing this method might help us avoid falling back into the Instagram reality of project art. Instead we might figure out ways to recreate the step-by-step process of how our projects start, fail, grow, and eventually (but not always) succeed.

Justin Skye Malachowski

Writing from Davis, California 

Warchachou

El Warcha London by Inês

“How was your weekend?” - The workshop always starts with the morning coffee routine that is followed by checking on everyone and seeing if they had a good time during the days we haven’t been there. The conversation always takes a long time as this is the time that everyone ventilates about their issues or funny moments. I often put music on in the workshop to make things feel lighter and to brighten the mood . I believe that the time that we spent together having conversations, lunch and having cups of tea is a big part of our practice especially in this setting. For a generation that is often on the margin of society and left behind by our economic system it is important to have these sorts of projects that besides creating new ways of sharing skills, they open up for new relationships to be built and create a sense of community. The people make the space. 

 Myself, Martin and Barbara exchange a few jokes while we try to understand how Barbara would like to design her new door stopper. We decided to go upstairs to her flat to measure a few bits and pieces. We get out of the lift and we walk slowly towards her flat. Martin and Barbara exchange a few jokes about songs and how old those songs are. We arrive at her flat and understand that Barbara has a whole choreography to open her door and to keep it open. The door is too heavy for her, as Barbara has mainly strength in one arm and no strength in her legs, she has to use a walking stick. We realise that she has difficulties bending, so we decide to do a door stopper with the same height as her walking stick, also it needs to be quite heavy to hold that door. Barbara knows exactly what she needs and wants to do it. We go to the workshop and do a quick sketch of how it could work. We decided to recycle the frame of an old half chair that we had in the studio that has almost the perfect height. Martin cuts all the pieces to measure and me and Barbara sand everything, me handling the material and Barbara holding the machine. I am the other Barbara’s strong arm. After that Barbara screws all the pieces together and we do the finishing, this is divided in between two workshop sessions. At the end of the second one, we go up all together again to her flat to try our finest odd object, as it works. We keep chatting a bit more and Barbara shows us her family pictures and tells us a few stories. When we are about to leave she points out that she needs 4 picture frames broken and a table that needs to be fixed! This gives us work for the next few sessions. 

I think this can’t describe better the connection that the space has in relation to our work. We are there, in their communal living room, next to their flat. We are there in their privacy. The relationship that we create quite quickly is of trust, complicity and empathy. They are the ones telling us what they need and we are building it together as a collective effort. 

We quickly understood that relationships can’t be forced especially when you are coming to their communal living room. People come down from their flats if they want to engage. The reason for that engagement can be really different, from drinking coffee and having a piece of cake to wanting just to have a few hours of company. I don’t think it is necessarily about what we build but more of an excuse for us to be together. I don’t mean  to dismiss the practical side, I see it as a fruitful and important aspect, but the relationships that we create are probably the most important. Our practice is not to be there to entertain people or teach them new skills per say but instead, it is to share experiences and moments with individuals who might otherwise not cross our path or be part of our daily lives because of the generational gap. 

For us each workshop brings questions of accessibility, inclusivity and shared space. We are there every monday and tuesday and if they need to, we support them however we can. It could be just a chat, to replace a lamp bulb or fixing up a shelf that is falling. 

The building where we are located is managed by Homes for Haringey, this means that everything that happens is developed in collaboration with them. With a number of cuts made through the years to this service, people feel less and less heard, cared for and disconnected from the environment that surrounds them. Our workshop is divided between our workshop space and the  communal living room that stopped in time. The fact that we work in the communal living room might sometimes be destabilising for the residents and even create tensions. In a way we are creating new activities that can be enjoyed by everyone but also we are disturbing the usual peace and quiet of that space. It is a difficult equilibrium to find.    

I remember when we built a massive structure of 4 meters inside of the lounge area for a local community group: Friends of Hartington Park  as part of their christmas celebration . We had people passing by, looking at us in a really suspicious way until John came along and looked  at us and asked: “What are you doing? What is it?” Me and Ben looked at each other asking ourselves the same question, not really sure we had an answer. Something that was supposed to be a christmas tree became a really weird and high structure. The next challenge was to take that structure to the park through the living room double doors, but how? John decided to help us, he gave instructions until we managed to pull the whole structure outside, we were quite surprised that we managed. John after that offered to read a poem and sang a song for us. John doesn’t come to the workshops regularly but he always checks on us and is there to help and give creative input.

This is also the nature of what we do, people can have their input in the form that they feel more comfortable. The most important is that we speak about what matters and each person feels free to find their own material and ways of working. 

I was overwhelmed when I visited our workshop in Tunis, which opened in 2016. I could feel that the space had a completely different dynamic, in this chaotic but productive spirit full of life. After we opened the workshop we would have people already organising their materials to work on a project, kids passing by and entering the workshop and neighbours passing by and sharing with us the latest news. While this is happening, everyone is sharing their life and having a laugh in a busy but super informal environment. It really felt like a big family that overshares everyday work and friendship. I guess that from my point of view coming from the studio in London was great to see how impact it has in the dynamic of a space is social and cultural context and that organically El Warcha develops it’s own dynamics depending on the people and context where the workshop is located. 

El Warcha Tunis by  Marlène

We often ask ourselves whether we could document, analyse and theorise a methodology from our way of working. This is a question  that has always been difficult for us, , for the whole "El Warcha community", namely: what is El Warcha? And what is our methodology? Can we talk about an El Warcha "model"?

It was a question that we explored in more depth when we started the creation of a Warcha in Nefta, in the south of Tunisia. We first had to go back to what El Warcha was, how we functioned, our dynamics, in order to be able to think about the creation of a workshop in Nefta, with the inhabitants of the town. We realised how difficult it was to define ourselves, we were throwing out key words, great theories, sometimes with great distance from who we actually  are and how we function. But when one just think about it, there is nothing rigid or strict and formal about the way we operate. Principles and values that define us emanate from working together everyday . Habits, codes, simple things,, there are as many elements that could define our way of functioning as there is people in the workshop .

Each day is full of habits, instinctive reflexes and signs that are repeated.

The fact that the workshop is open every day, Monday to Friday, gives us the opportunity to really anchor ourselves in a routine - in the positive sense of the word - that makes us part of the life of the Hafsia neighborhood. Like the corner grocery store or the bookstore across the street from the college, our doors are open every day, and we are a sort  of landmark. A few month ago a mapping exercise for kids was proposed by a friend of us. The game consisted in creating mental maps of the "flagship" locations or functions within the neighbourhood. All the children placed El Warcha very easily on their map, and they had no problem to finding their way towards the workshop, the school or the grocery store. When I saw the children locate the workshop on the mental maps they had created. I thought that if I had to do this exercise,, El Warcha would be a bit like a living room or a kitchen at the scale of Hafsia: the place where we all get together and share things, moments of creation, and where we express ourselves. A place where we create, where we experiment, and we do that all together.

We are visible from the inside, as well as from the outside. 

We are easily spotted in the neiughborhood by the multiple installations that we have carried out on the street in recent years. We are recognisable by the colours and the pile of material at the entrance of our workshop, and which are the same elements in our installations present entirely or partially in public space. When you look around in the Hafsia, you can come across a broomstick structure that merges with the branch of an old tree. When you look carefully at the walls of the buildings, you can see traces of the blue stamp "El Warcha" which seems to serve as beacons to find the way to the workshop. 

The fact that our activities - even the very simple ones of everyday life: eating, drinking, playing cards - spill over into the street, onto the  pavement, gives great porosity to our workshop functioning between the common space and the so-called "private" space.

Sometimes we wonder whether these habits can be sometimes be experienced as invasions? Investing the streets in this way, as an extension of one's home - place of life, place of work - could be perceived as something invasive for street users. However, little or no negative comments are made about us in this way of operating. Do we belong to the street?

This freedom of expression and occupation of space is also visible within the workshop itself. Even if certain things  ,gestures or acts are very codified there, it would seem that something very organic and spontaneous inhabits El Warcha. One can come and build an object,play with material , sit down and observe, drink a coffee, share the latest gossip from the neighbourhood without there necessarily being a hierarchical sense given to these different actions. I imagine that this spontaneity and this freedom of expression is conceivable and possible by the people who make this place alive. I am always fascinated and seduced by the ease with which all types of people enter the workshop. Some days we see dozens of different faces walking through our doors, some of them well known, others not at all. Not everyone who comes in will have the same wishes or goals, but at least people feel free to come and ask something, build,  just watch or share a moment with us. I always feel uncomfortable when we close our front doors, those big glass transparent doors which always seem to welcome everyone. To me, when we have to close them, it's as if we were closing our minds or our creativity. I really feel uncomfortable when we take back one of our chairs while someone is sitting on it because it’s the end of the day and we need to close. It gives me the impression that we are breaking this rule, our rule, of being accessible to all, all the time we are open. However, this rule has never been defined as such "leave the doors wide open". This is also possible thanks to the spatial nature of our current workshop. Our previous workshop, for example, was sometimes more conducive to its confinement and had less porosity with the street. This porosity was created or recreated by our way - users of the workshop - of grasping the limit between the inside and the outside.

I also believe that "who we are" is an integral part of defining what El Warcha is. In the Tunisian team, we can differentiate ourselves by our ages, our cultures, our neighborhoods, our fields of study. This plurality raises the question of belonging to this project and to the whole, which goes beyond all other more individual questions. I still love to see how many "Warchachou" (the way some people like to call us in the neighborhood) there are. I love to see that the project, which originally mainly concerned children, has now reached a wider and more intergenerational audience. Just this way of being called the “Warchachou”, whoever we are individually, shows the recognition of a whole, a group and an identity that represents us.

So how can we not define El Warcha as a sense of belonging? Like artistic movements, whether literary or architectural, our functioning seems to reside in a desire to belong to one or another group, from constructing methods, to materials specific to our environment. And this belonging changes over the course of human encounters, seasons, places, ideas and utopias.

Questioning one or more methodologies specific to El Warcha is even more complex when I imagine how El Warcha works in London, having never been able to  see with my own eyes how it operates . Knowing the values and principles that unite the two workshops, I can easily project myself on the global objectives that are brought to London. Knowing that the workshop is present directly in a private space, in this case in the common room of a retirement home, brings me a very different reflexive dimension on the way we operate in Tunis. 

The impact of a workshop that would be present directly in the private space offers a completely different vision of making things together. Belonging to things and spaces seems more complex or questionable: what can we do in a space that belongs to a group of people that lives there on a daily basis? 

Dance steps / Pas de dance

I am not sure this anecdote is the best one to illustrate what I am talking about below but this discussion came about at the same time I was having thoughts on the relationship between the thought process and the practice at El Warcha.

Wajdi and I were walking towards France ville in Tunis and while we were doing a pause on the steps of a building. Wajdi who was working on a play told me about this scene that they were rehearsing. A couple is on stage and they must each make a certain number of dance steps punctuated by a sequence of text before finding themselves in the centre. The director couldn't figure it out. Wajdi decided to take it upon himself to find a solution. He measured the distance to be covered, the number of steps the actors had to take, and edited the text to synchronise the movement and the rhythm of the voices. After a few minutes of planning the scene could be played smoothly and it only needed a few more tries to be finalised. 

This story echoes a reflection that we regularly have at El Warcha. The activity inside the workshop is essentially manual, it is an intuitive practice, a process where playfulness is of great importance. Getting people around a table to reflect on our practice and putting things into words or even planning, is not always easy. Discussions regarding the work can seem peripheral to some of our team members. The talking happens when we are not working basically, when we take a break or when we have a coffee. Our approach is often slow and full of stopping and restarting, like the director who blindly searches for dance steps. Our work is a sort of collage, assembling things, a game which is not necessarily effective in terms of productivity but which is very creative and enjoyable. Our goal is above all to create a space for experiment and exchange through a common practice.

The fact remains that we are regularly confronted with the limits of this approach. Thoughts put into words seems to be the highest form of expression, both from an academic and artistic point of view. A project begins with words, we tell a story. When speaking about El Warcha we refer to “Public space”, “collaboration”, “citizenship” a language which is essentially used for the external communication of the project and fundraising but can sometimes feel a little off with our daily practice. The theoretical wording is basically something that happens backstage in an office, just like the excel sheets and other administrative work that no one wants to do. The project wouldn’t exist without it but they are not part of the routine of most people who walk through the door of the workshop. At the workshop reflection and action coexist, but one is not the logical result of the other. The workshop is open onto the street, we are constantly in direct relation to our environment, and it is rare that the plans that we have made the night before come to fruition. There is always an unexpected event, someone not showing up or maybe a toilet flood. Many good reasons to change or plans or not make any. In a small publication that I discovered a few years before the workshop opened: “The Rest is Silence” Emanuel Almborg describes a project on an abandoned site in London in the 90s. People get together and start building a structure, they work in silence, with a single rule not to speak to one another. The only language they are allowed is the one of the hands and the body assembling wooden planks. It may be idealistic but that's kind of the question we asked ourselves with Taha when we opened the first workshop in 2016. What would happen if we opened a space with a few tools and material where people could experiment freely and make things.

At the opening of the second Warcha in 2017 the approach was a bit different, we tried to bring people together and have roundtable discussions. We wanted people to decide what they wanted to do before initiating a project. As it happened, discussions were not really valued, participants felt they would not amount to anything. Worst, Marouan whom we had initiated the project with had a name for those roundtable discussions, he called it: “faire l’association” which literally meant pretending to be doing something. This was a reference to many associations which had opened after the revolution in Tunisia. They had a reputation for having never ending discussions but never taking actions.  

This raised the question for us about planning and team meetings, how much does it need to be formalised if people don’t actually enjoy it or do not actively take part. Working in collaboration with others means we have to find a way to make decisions. The lack of planning or formalised time to exchange ideas can often be seen as non-collaborative. That said, we cannot force it upon people. In a way El Warcha resolves this issue by being really organic, the project evolves depending on the people who are physically present in the room at a given moment and not necessarily on a plan that might have been made previously. This said there is still a lot of planning necessary beyond the scene and administrative work that needs doing but somehow it remains open enough and allows for a lot of freedom inside the workshop.

This discussion about theory and practice resonates particularly when we talk about education. Theory on education is something we are interested in as we work a lot with young people and sometimes describe ourselves as an educational project. Schools traditionally want children to be sited listening to the teacher, knowledge being passed down to them by the master. In reaction liberal or anarchist education as presented by Alexander Sutherland in “Summer Hill '' is not limited to the classroom, the children learn by experimenting, they can play, run around, explore the space that surrounds them without being subject to the authority of a master. Taha had found a second hand copy of the book in a nearby bookshop and we both took turns reading it and discussing it before opening the workshop in the morning. At El Warcha none of us have been trained in carpentry and each project is a new opportunity to learn something even if it often means reinventing the wheel. This pedagogical approach couldn’t be further away from the Tunisian school system (inspired by the French) who is centered around learning lessons by heart and a really rigid code of conduct. 

Michelles Serres in Petite Poucette expands on this critique of traditional education at the time of new technologies: “Today knowledge is accessible to everyone on the internet and it can no longer be the simple object of education. New forms of teaching must be developed, critical mind, creativity or emotional intelligence are more than the sum of knowledge.” Does the body still need to be seated in its listening position if the student is no longer there to store information. Another relationship to the body may be possible, manual work may be reconciled with intellectual process. The classroom space needs to be redesigned.

By Ben

Bibliography :

The rest is Sience, Emmanuel Almborg, 2009

Summer Hill, a radical approach to child rearing, A. S. Neil, 1960

Petite Poucette, Michelle Serres, 2012