Intervu Avouleance Cook

Avouleance Cook

I sat down with Avouleance Cook, an emerging creative, to talk to them about their work and their views on the current creative scene.

“I take the approach you are making art for the people who care about it enough to tear it apart and analyse it.”

Who is Avouleance Cook? I ask them to describe themselves and their work:

“My work is a lot of disparate small things that may or may not cohere depending on how I feel at the moment.” They do go on after I finish chuckling.

“I do a mix of things.” They tell me, “Primarily my mediums are open mic performances: a mix of poetry, improvised monologues, audience participation, and also shortform playwriting while I’m trying to get myself established on the London scene.” They go on, adding that “In terms of theme, I think I’m really interested in art as a process.”

They pause for a moment before explaining to me, “I think the interesting thing about art is that it is a forced, intentionally created thing. I always find it interesting when people say a particular thing in a piece of art was “forced.” The whole thing was forced into existence! 

They focus in on themselves and what they do, even further, “A lot of my work is around interpretation, that’s why I like audience participation. So much of that is a case of seeing what other people bring to your ideas. The audience and other people involved are as much as part of the creative process.”

“Also, as someone on the autism spectrum, how people communicate, and how people interpret each other when it comes to body language, social cues and things that aren't said are fascinating. So that’s a big theme that ties into my interesting communication and the arts.”

Intrigued, I ask them what their process behind making work is like:

“I have too much ADHD. Honestly, a lot of my ideas start with a bit that I think would be funny. Here is a twist or a punchline, here is some idea, a core idea and everything blooms out. You treat the silly idea as seriously as possible and then just ‘yes and…’ yourself out from there.” They tell me and again, I am chuckling.

They give me an example of this very way of working, “Process Poetry, one of the best nights on the scene, they are fantastic. One time, I thought it would be funny if I remembered a fake TV show. And it would be funnier if other people also remembered the TV show too. And in the end about two thirds of the people performing that night referenced the same show and the host had no idea what was happening!” Now, I am full belly laughing at that.

They do go on to give me a more conventional answer, “In terms of writing it depends, with poetry and stage, its very much write a page, write a verse, go back and rewrite, go back and rewrite, then go on and write and rewrite. It’s very cyclical. With improvised monologues its very much I have an idea and I have to get that out and think of two to four minutes of jokes associated with that bit to double down on.” They add excitedly, as if telling me a secret, “The trick to remember is I know what I’m working towards. It’s the biggest advantage I have.” 

They impart on me this wisdom about their process and making art in general,“I take the approach you are making art for the people who care about it enough to tear it apart and analyse it.”

I ask them about their most recent work and how that compares with anything else that they have made:

“Inevitably, my work will have changed.” I hear a small sigh as they count, “I put the big canonical start of me writing drama and poetry around 2014. More than 10 years ago at this point.” They go on, telling me that, “I’ve definitely developed my own taste and style in this time. I like to think I’ve refined my style. Definitely, there are still the same themes in there and funnily enough, this ties into the academic work I’ve been doing as well, looking at how people communicate and the communication between science and art. I definitely think I've become more aware of what I was always doing.” They surmise by saying with vigour, “I think the best thing you can do to improve as an artist is get a better sense of what you like and how to achieve it”

They tell me, ““I’m a member of Director’s Cut Theatre and their end of term showcase will be on December 7th at the Park Theatre in Finsbury, I am waiting for confirmation as to whether one of my pieces got into that. Again, lovely people, great experience. I highly recommend people checking them out.”

Then they muse, “The fun thing about scratch nights and poetry open nights is that something about all these different pieces being next to each other creates this interesting meta-narrative.” They go on, saying that, “The fact that all these pieces are next to each other is arbitrary but because they are next to each other you have to take them in context with each other.” With a moment of glee, they add, “That’s another thing I love about art: how many arbitrary things happen to be meaningful because we’re there to experience them”

I ask Avouleance that with their work in in particular, what do they want people to take away from it:

Initially, they tell me that, “I would like to be producing work that models the desires that are cathartic for people who have struggles that are similar to me or models the catharsis for healthy behaviour.” But they then raise a point with me, “Underlying this there is an ethical concern all creatives should have: you want the experience you have to be healthy for the people having it.”

They talk about the work of other people they have seen and heard and what they take away from it, “Seeing other peoples’ work is so interesting because even if you don't want to do what they're doing, knowing how they did it and why can help you get more confident in doing what you want to do.”

I ask them if there is anything they are excited to see themself:

“So much!” They answer almost immediately, “There are writers, whatever they do, I’m going to want to see it.” They give me some examples, “Inside No.9 ended recently. It’s such an amazing show, and a reason why is because two fans can have such upside down rankings of episodes. The diversity of what they do! Anything Pemberton and Sheersmith do is worth checking out even if it's not for me. Their dialogue is just so tight!” And they say, “Whatever John Finnemore is doing with his friends on the radio. He’s my favorite comedy writer, he’s also really good at dramatic stuff.”

I ask them what advice they would have for any other creatives:

Cautiously, they say, “This is contingent on what materially you are able to do.” With that, they say,  “As much as you are able, putting stuff out there and being receptive to feedback is the most valuable thing you can do. Open Mic’s are a great way to get started. The poetry open mic scene is full of so many lovely events.” Avouleance goes on to recommend highly: Process Poetry, The Delicious Open Mic, Sweet Sundays, That Goddamn Poetry Jam and Everything Poetry. “A friend of mine runs an Instagram page called Where the Word Things Live” which just stores all of the open mic info”

In terms of critics and their opinions, they offer this, “The best thing a critic can do is get people excited about an alternate version of your work” They then affirm that all creatives should “Think about what you want and why you like/dislike other things. Get feedback, give feedback. Be part of the community. You need to be making work for you.”

Avouleance talks a lot about the creative community during our interview. I ask them, are we doing enough to be a welcoming community:

“I think, and this is a broader issue, it is a fundamental issue with the arts that you are expected to do it for free until you are worth paying.” They reply. “The people organizing open mics and events like that are doing so much in terms of opening doors for people.” I hear them sigh, “There will always be people making the best of a hostile country, making people feeling safe and affirmed and comforted. They are the ones doing a good job.” They say hopefully, “Honestly, just sharing things is so valuable in that case.”

I ask them what’s next?

“I am always waiting to hear back about submissions and residencies, I will always be writing things. There isn’t really a clear answer.” After a pause, they exclaim, “I would like to continue my academic research! For my masters I was working with the Science, Arts, Writing Trust. I was looking at, from a particularly educational theory point of view, what interdisciplinarity meant. Were it not due to funding problems, I would love to be more involved in the academic side of things. They add that, “There are so many interesting things that science and arts can learn from each other.”