Jake Lever: Soul Boats.
Turner, Claire
Jake Lever: Soul Boats
Birmingham Cathedral
29 November 2015-March 2016
In her discussion of space and pedagogy, Elizabeth Ellsworth
comments that 'Art bends under its chosen burden of trying to make
shareable a knowing that cannot be explained.' (1) Reflecting on
the experience of standing in the middle of Birmingham Cathedral,
Ellsworth's words come to mind. Looking up at a shimmering flotilla
of small, golden boats suspended high above the nave, at once cradling
the air above and resting on that below, the viewer can't help but
wonder about such 'knowing'. Each boat contains a concealed
cargo the memories, prayers, thoughts or reflections of around 2000
participants, of many faiths and none, who were asked to record
something of their journey through life on the inside of a carefully
designed, boat-shaped template. Writing about his project, artist Jake
Lever says,
The depth of engagement by participants
of all ages in making their boats
was incredible. Some, for example made
boats in memory of loved ones who've
died, some ranted about their difficulty
in finding work and others celebrated
the high points of long lives lived well.
These moving reflections are on the
inside of the boats, as private prayers,
hidden from public view.
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
But the 'knowledge' alluded to here is not just the
unseen prayers of those who participated in the project, some during
workshops and drop-in sessions facilitated by the artist, some during
services, lessons or events led by others, some during the
Cathedral's 'Something Good' outdoor arts festival.
Rather, the installation offers a sense of the other, the transcendent;
without attempting to describe or illustrate it appears to bend, both
physically and metaphorically, inviting the audience to share something
that is always just out of reach.
From below, small details of this expansive work start to suggest
further connections. The overall shape of this fleet is that of a hull
of a large boat--I want to say arc but such a simplistic analogy
doesn't seem to do the work justice. However, the edges of this
vessel are irregular. There are gaps, spaces--some of the Soul Boats are
bleeding out of the formation--the edges are fuzzy. The boats themselves
are irregular too but there is something about the way in which Lever
has moulded this installation that elevates an ordinary, sometimes
quickly made cardboard boat into something extraordinary. Like faith
itself, the work cannot be held in position nor its constituent parts
corralled into a neat formation. That said, the flotilla engenders a
sense of direction pointing as it does, forwards towards the sanctuary.
Here the prayers of the people are directed to somewhere else or to
someone other. They are at once fragile and proud, vulnerable and
certain, much like the people who will pass through the Cathedral's
doors over the coming weeks and months. My experience both as a visitor
and as a participant in the project leads me to believe that they will
want to pause like I did, and look up. Perhaps they will stand, slightly
disoriented from the sensation of craning upwards; perhaps they will
sit, looking along the prow of the ship formed by these floating souls;
perhaps they will choose to lie down and 'float' but however
they choose to experience this installation, I believe they will be
moved by it.
In summary, Soul Boats by Jake Lever, funded by the Westhill
Endowment and commissioned by Birmingham Cathedral to celebrate its
tercentenary, celebrates the somewhat transitional nature of sacred
space by inviting, both in the process of its conception and in its
final aesthetic, ongoing reflection on what it is to journey with a
sense of that which cannot be explained. It is not surprising that Lever
finds inspiration in the work of poet Clarissa Pinkola Estes who writes,
The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours. They
are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here. In that
spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship
is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But
that is not what great ships are built for. (2)
Claire Turner is Vicar of St Chad's Rubery, Birmingham
(1.) Elizabeth Ellsworth, Places of Learning: Media, Architecture,
Pedagogy (Abingdon: Routledge, 2005) p. 157
(2.) Clarissa Pinkola Estes, available from
http://www.huna.org/html/cpestes.html