Plinth

'Art gives dignity to people who have had everything taken away,' says John Costi, co-curator of Koestler Art’s ‘No Comment’. The group show at Southbank Centre is an annual celebration of art from the UK’s criminal justice system. This year, Costi has worked alongside Jeremy Deller and six high-profile guest judges. He began his art practice while serving time in prison, with his work selected for a previous iteration of the show. Since his release, he has continued his practice – currently in residence at Somerset House – while working with those who have been through the system. 'It’s really rewarding and reassuring that you can give something back. I thought my life was over, that I’d be in and out of prison forever.'

‘No Comment’ is at times raucous, thoughtful, funny, and searingly political. Two things struck me while walking around the exhibition with Costi: the vibrant bursts of colour, which seems to defy the unbearably bland surroundings of these incarcerated artists, and an innovative selection of materials, from prison-issue soap to seeds, playing cards, matchsticks, and human hair. Ideas of freedom and constraint are contrasted throughout; a group of characterful bird sculptures, for example, are huddled near an overbearing, ceramic judge and jury.

For Costi, art serves multiple functions. 'Most of prison is being in a cell. It can be excruciating to be left alone for that long. Making art can be the only time when you get any freedom. Even if it’s writing, putting pen to paper. It’s something you’re in control of. Everything else, you’re not in control of, down to your name, your movements...' While making work in prison doesn't always follow the structure of art therapy, Costi recognises a calming impact on the social dynamics inside. 'Just doing something with your eyes and hands can deflect the tension. If there’s a load of men sitting around a table making art, they’re not sizing each other up, which is what we’re always doing in prison.'

He also sees parallels between learning creative skills and the experience of self-growth. 'Art is something I can always tinker away at. If I do fuck it up, I can fix it. And I look on that as a bit of an attitude for life. I just feel that instinctively now.' Koestler’s annual show reflects this wider impact of art making, celebrating its potential for change and rehabilitation. 'It’s to show what comes out of prisons, to challenge that narrative of "no hopers".'

This autumn, several exhibitions at London’s commercial galleries feature artists working within the prison system. Unlike Costi, these artists are strictly on the outside looking in. Brooke Bennington recently exhibited ‘Wild Life’, a solo show by Alan Stanners who teaches art in a high security prison in Scotland. A grid-like sense of containment runs through his own paintings which seems to reflect this experience. James Lomax recently opened a solo show at Sid Motion Gallery, following his residency at HMP Grendon, which is organised by Ikon Gallery in Birmingham. The Buckinghamshire prison has experimented with an unconventional format, housing men who have already served part of their sentence, with almost daily group therapy sessions and regular access to creative studios.

'It made me question everything,' says Lomax. 'My role in society as an artist. Whether I could be more useful in another setting. You realise how flawed the system is. A lot of the guys in there are really skilled, some have trades and they have a lot of life experience.' More traditional art forms such as painting are readily available in the prison, so Lomax decided to explore more unconventional materials. He began with workshops making reliefs and casts, using decorators’ caulk.

Lomax describes this experimental approach as similar to an art foundation and was keen to avoid using an art therapy model. 'I didn’t want it to be anything to do with prison,' he says. 'In so many places it is more based in art therapy. Grendon has art therapy as part of its model, so in a way, we were able to totally sit outside of that. It gave the men a lot of freedom to just do whatever they wanted. To me at least it felt like a safe space.' He mentions some men talked about their feelings in this time, but that it allowed a more informal and unpressured space for emotional expression.

Lomax advocates for art education within prison beyond physical making. He notes how interested some of the men were in the historical and contextual aspect of art. While he brought some of his own art books to share with the group, he hopes to develop a broader permanent art library. 'Some of them just want to do their own thing, but some are so desperate for that information.'

The artist is keen to impress the dual aspects of this kind of work. It is important to provide high quality opportunities through which incarcerated people can pick up their own art practice once they are released, but it can be just as valuable to continue as a hobby or personal activity. 'So much of our prison system is built around this idea of retribution,' says Lomax. 'But these people are going to be coming back into society hopefully, and projects like this make them more rounded individuals. It humanises them.'

Costi agrees that inclusivity in art and culture has a resounding impact on how people engage with and see their place in the world. 'I used to wonder what went on in these buildings [galleries and art museums]. None of it was built for you. The other institutions were built for you.' He advocates for crime diversion, highlighting the need for art education, mentorship, and engagement much earlier in life – a preventative measure rather than an afterthought. Ultimately, he recognises the value of high-quality creative programmes, even for those who don’t wish to take it up as a career. 'Most of these people aren’t going to make art when they get out. It’s more about how art can make you see things with different potential. Things like that will give you space to breathe. And I think that’s the point.'

By Emily Steer

Cover image: Installation view of James Lomax, 'A Tale of Two Cities' at Sid Motion Gallery