The Loovre Opening: Have a Fart and View Some Art!
On the night of the 13th of October, Rose and I cut the ribbon, opening the Loovre Gallery’s first exhibition. Given our wing-it approach, the exhibition’s launch was a miraculous success. Though the finished project was less than perfect - the team at the People’s Republic of Stokes Croft (PRSC) are still patiently waiting for all the paintings to be labelled) - the night itself was a joy, characterised by loo-joke laughs and collaborative creativity. As someone who tends towards perfectionism and introversion, the prospect of the opening night felt like a gargantuan hurdle. But, thanks to the brilliance and unending support from Rose, co-curator-in-chief, and the driving excitement of novelty, the experience was electrifying (and will undoubtedly be repeated soon - see below!).
However, reaching this point was neither quick nor easy. The opening night was a wild adventure, rapidly unfolding with chaos, but the preceding preparation was a long, slow burn. It began in May 2022, with a desperate internet search for a creative escape. I came across an open call on the 'Bristol Creatives’ website for curators to manage the ‘Loovre’. I and one other attended the first meeting, and the mystical 'Loovre' was explained. They told us it was a ‘backburner project’ without time or money to invest, but they were keen for volunteers to manage and lift it off the ground. We were given a tour – or more accurately, pointed to a door off the main gallery space, through which, lo and behold, we found the toilet: The Loovre Gallery, two metres by one metre, still decorated with the old exhibition. We left the meeting quietly amused and bubbling with ideas.
In the months following, many changes took place. Enthusiasm flopped in favour of other commitments, meetings were proposed, but few were had. Rose and one other joined; the team burgeoned from two to four members, then shrunk again until just Rose and I remained. By September, the PRSC crew were keenly awaiting news on the Loovre's progress so that they could add an opening date to their diary. We had created an action plan in June, but taking the next steps felt tricky and awkward. It meant being responsible for other artists’ artwork; confronting our lack of knowledge and asserting ourselves in a space that was not our own. The last challenge was unexpected and proved the trickiest to surmount. PRSC has existed for over 15 years and every corner of the space brims with hand-crafted personality and the structural ethos of its team. Though occupying the space and locating the necessary tools felt awkward initially, we were encouraged by the generosity and moral support from the PRSC team, We eventually found our groove.
Once a date for the opening night was decided, dithering was no longer an option. We dived into action. The next two weeks flew by. We conducted art-generating activities (including an art club and creative hike), took down the Loovre’s previous exhibition, scrubbed and prepared the walls, pooled as much artwork as we could, framed and displayed, sourced musicians, created and diffused promotional material, prepared the event space and planned the night’s programme.
Meanwhile, our lives beyond the Loovre rumbled on. We still had jobs, social lives, and a need for respite. Transport issues prevailed and studies required attention. It was a busy and, at times, overwhelming period. As our first attempt at such a project, we were yet to uncover the importance of delegation. Despite challenges, the process was exhilarating and deeply satisfying. Months of inaction finally culminated in these two, sweeping weeks. We were learning exponentially, confronting new fears and unknowns by the minute!
When the opening night finally rolled around, we hurtled into the inky expanse of the unknown. We weren’t sure if anyone would even turn up. The start time drew nearer, and a million tiny tasks were yet to be completed. The musicians weren’t sure if they had the correct equipment. The night’s program wasn’t complete, and we weren’t sure how to work the lighting. Up until five minutes before the event began, Rose and I hadn’t had much time to register our nerves. But in those final moments, we agreed that a sit-down and de-brief outside was needed. Those few, deep breaths grounded us in a momentary stillness - an essential lull before the night unfurled.
Slowly but steadily, people began to trickle in. Then, an hour or so into the evening, throngs began to pile in. We chatted, ushered, explained and, when we had time, drew on the large sheets of paper. By some good fortune, the night seemed to be running itself. People were crowding around the collaborative drawing supplies, amusing themselves with the gallery space and chatting round drinks. At a certain point, Rose and I quietly agreed that the night’s structure would have to be abandoned in favour of a more organic approach. And so, it unwound. In the night’s final quarter, I took a leap of faith and took up the post of life model. Having done it only once before albeit, with three other friends and in a familiar environment, it was nerve-wracking. Finally, as the space grew quieter, chairs were packed away and the night ended.
We spent the next few days taking some well-needed distance from human interaction, though we made sure to catch up with each other. We evaluated the night and then we reflected. We were exhausted, gleefully astonished, but deeply proud too. Everything had, if rather haphazardly, come together.
What now?
Now sufficiently rested we are hankering after that same, creative immersion, and we intend to run the next Loovre opening in mid-March. The title of the exhibition is ‘What The Folk: Re-imagining Tradition’. If you are an artist, or someone interested in getting involved, we would love to hear from you! Please get in contact with either me and Rose via projects@prsc.org.uk or @tha_loovre on Instagram.