Making ‘Make-Do-And-Mend’ Sociable Again

 

The make-do-and-mend movement is back. When the recession began, clever marketing people at John Lewis dug out and republished a 1943 governmental booklet on how to darn socks and re-patch roofs using wastepaper. World war two kitsch was duly rekindled there has been since 2009 an unrelenting stream ‘make do and mend’ media output. Channel 4 a launched a ‘Make Do And Mend’ TV show advising viewers on how to have fun with frozen vegetables. Joan Bakewell has recently joined the celebration of frugality with an article in last week’s Telegraph, describing valiant efforts to deliver parcels by hand.

 

Yet modern make-do-and-mend lacks the defining feature of its 1943 counterpart. The earlier version came out of the war effort and was predicated on a sense of community spirit born out of a need for help on the home front. Food was scare so city dwellers pulled together to turn parks into vegetable gardens. Clothes were rationed so women ran up their own or darned holes in what they had. However, these activities took place in the context of pre-existent community structures like church groups, knitting circles, the Women’s Institute, and the Women’s Royal Naval Service which made skill-sharing easier and reduced costs. The acquisition of a new skill takes not only time but patience and we are far more likely to succeed within a supportive social framework than of we go it alone. Watching someone whip up a pair of curtains on television is not the same as being shown how to do it first hand. At the very least, observes Joy Pite from the Wanstead Women’s institute, ‘in a social setting, there’s more incentive to complete the task’.

 

Modern make-do-and-mend is the DIY craze of the 90s clothed in rather more frayed robes, due to an absence of community space. Most neighbourhoods during World War 2 had thriving churches and community centres, which made for strong and intergenerational social networks. These days people are working longer hours, spending their free time online, moving around more and therefore feel a decreased sense of affiliation with those in their physical surroundings.

 

This is what the organisers at Heathrow Grow are trying to remedy in the London suburb of Sipson. Heathrow Grow is predicated on the idea that cost-efficient and sustainable living requires somewhere for people to meet regularly and face to face. ‘It’s a lot easier to demonstrate things to people than it is to explain them’ says Alex, one of the project’s architects, ‘and it’s a lot cheaper to organise things as a group’. Built on an acre of land that was once an abandoned plant nursery, Heathrow Grow consists of a thriving vegetable garden and two greenhouses that have been transformed into workshop space. Its organisers have set up free classes on the basic principles of growing food, how to maintain a bicycle and even how to weld.

 

The Heathrow Growers have worked hard to convince the people of Sipson that community spirit is the key to the making daily life not only cost-efficient but ecologically sustainable. They have promoted the project by handing out free vegetables at the village market and have successfully involved themselves in the local Residents’ Society, Allotment Society and Young People’s Society. Local residents frequently come by make use of the facilities on offer or just to hang out and the site has proven particularly attractive to “N.E.E.T.S” looking to pick up new skills. ‘It’s great here’, explains Dan, an unemployed resident of Sipson who has recently become involved with the project. ‘I help out with the gardening. And it’s nice to have somewhere to potter around’.

 

Although the political outlook held by most of the project’s participants does not cohere with that expressed by the current government, Heathgrow Grow actively embodies many of Cameron’s ‘Big Society’ values. According to the the government’s online mission statement, the ‘Big Society’ exists to ‘give individuals more power and responsibility and use it to create better neighbourhoods and services’. Since Heathrow Grow has done far much more than the make-do-and-mend-movement to make this happen, those of us hoping for not only more financially efficient households but also the revival of flagging community spirits look forward to seeing more like it.

 

 

Plans to build a third runway through Sipson threaten Heathrow Grow’s continued existence. Its fate will be determined at Central London County Court on 18th and 19th June 2012. Sign their petition at: http://www.transitionheathrow.com/grow-heathrow

 

Ukelele Hootenannys: Making a Spectacle of Ourselves by Leah Ulfsbjorninn

 

Once regarded as a children’s toy, the ukelele rose to prominence a few years back. The sound of four strings strummed across a hollow box rendered light as a soufflé what might otherwise have been the indie gloom of bands like Vampire Weekend, inspired a number of ukelele orchestras, found its way onto a multiplicity of movie soundtracks and was finally plucked from the cultural periphery like a blithe runaway and put to work by unscrupulous advertisers. The little ukelele is now used to televisually flog everything from Nikon cameras to potential partners as demonstrated in Match.com’s recent campaign.

However, while the ukelele may now be culturally present to an almost irritating degree, it’s a symbol of how our relationship to music has undergone an important transformation. For a long time, we were passive listeners, gathered at the foot of stages in homage to our guitar-wielding musical heroes. It now seems that we are no longer content to simply listen, but rather expect to participate in musical culture

 

The growing number of ukelele ‘orchestras’ was a preliminary sign of change.  Although such outfits have sprung up all over the world, The Ukelele Orchestra of Great Britain (UOGB) came first, its members a diverse bunch of self-proclaimed ordinary working folk who playfully strum cover tracks and dress in tuxedos. Those with an interest in the practicalities of musical performance know that the ukelele is inexpensive and a wonderfully easy instrument to master, especially given the abundant tutorials and easy-to-read chord charts available online. Anyone with £20 to spare and an internet connection can get started. So the mock seriousness with which the UOGB execute covers of traditionally deified tunes from across the musical spectrum, leaping in a single set from Tchaikovsky to Nirvana, introduces a pinch of salt into the usually deadly serious business of performance.

 

The UOGB helped to defuse the idea that there’s something sacred about the musician onstage. However, ukelele lovers at the Queen of Hoxton have taken the process a step further by setting up a weekly Ukelele Hootenanny. Instead of clapping along from afar, absolute beginners can rent an instrument on the night, learn a few tunes and immediately participate in a play-along. The Hootenanny differs from more traditional jam sessions and workshops because it specifically aims to attract would-be partygoers and the Hoxton hip as well as hobbyists out to learn a new skill. ‘It involves everyone from beginners to people who have been playing for years. It collectively works’, says Hootenanny organiser Martin Laking.

 

Of course, the notion of a good knees-up has a well-respected heritage in London. As Laking points out, not so long ago ‘every pub had a piano which anyone could come and play, with many customers willing to get up and sing, and the rest happy to sing along. I would be pleased to see more of this in whats left of our pubs and bars’. So in one sense, the Hootenanny is rekindling a long tradition.

 

A less performer-centred and more democratic attitude to music is undoubtedly a good thing. As the French philosopher Jacques Ranciere argued, a world divided into spectators and  performers is a world divided into followers and leaders; those who passively absorb and those who pull the strings. As Ranciere points out in his book The Emancipated Spectator, ‘looking is the opposite of knowing. It means being in front of an appearance without knowing the conditions of production of that appearance or the reality which is behind it (…) she who looks at the spectacle remains motionless in his or her seat, without any power of intervention’. When we observe the musician onstage, they become a spectacle, something separate from the realm of our ordinary experience. The danger is that in deifying the participants in the spectacle, we cast ourselves in the role of consumer. Being able to join in means that we actively contribute to the creation of culture rather than passively consume it.

 

The humble ukelele’s recent odyssey therefore a reminder that listening to music en masse is all about having a good time. Which is something positive to consider next time you grit your teeth against the plaintive plinkety-plink of the man on the match.com ad.

 

The next Ukelele Hootenanny will take place on Tuesday 16th April at the Queen of Hoxton, 1-5 Curtain Road, EC2A 3JX at 6.30pm.