“Art is a way of saying the unsayable”: Jeremy Deller and John Costi on curating an exhibition for people in prison

The UK’s prisons are in a state of disarray. They’re overcrowded and understaffed; support services can’t meet the complex needs of those in custody; and, once people do eventually leave the system, there’s little provision to help find housing or jobs. This is what makes organisations like Koestler Arts – the UK’s largest prison arts charity – so vital.

Founded in the early 1960s, Koestler works with individuals in all custodial settings, including those in secure hospitals and young offenders institutions, as well as prisons. Its core aim is to get individuals involved in the arts, providing inspiration, direction and fulfilment during what can be the most difficult time of their lives. It runs a broad programme of awards, feedback, mentoring, events and an annual exhibition, which platforms some of the most impressive prisoner-made art from the previous 365 days.

This year’s exhibition No Comment, showing at the Southbank Centre, has been curated by the artists Jeremy Deller and John Costi. Both have a long history with Koestler: Jeremy since the early 2000s upon meeting representatives from the charity while doing a talk at an open prison; while John first encountered their work while serving a six-year sentence at Felton Young Offenders after being charged with armed robbery at age 18.

The process of creating and curating the exhibition is immense, and is helped along by six of John and Jeremy’s friends in the creative industry, including Jonny Banger (Sports Banger) and the DJ and radio broadcaster Zakia Sewell. Recently, we chatted to John and Jeremy about No Comment, touching on some of their favourite pieces from the exhibition (including one made with parts of a vape and another with human hair), why artists’ crimes aren’t involved in the judging process, and prison art rooms as a space of solace.

It’s Nice That (INT): When did you first hear about Koestler Arts and why did it feel like an organisation you would personally like to collaborate with?

Jeremy Deller (JD): I gave a talk in an open prison in 2003 and they were working with Koestler. There was a curator who was working in the prison, and she told me about them, and put me in touch. I think the Koestler is always looking for people who are interested in what they do, because they need so many people to look at the work and give awards. They knew that I was interested, and I was doing a collection of folk and vernacular art around Britain, and it seemed to be something that was relevant to that collection, that exhibition. So it was just something that was a mutual interest, I suppose. Since then, I’ve worked with them in lots of different ways.

John Costi (JC): I first heard about Koestler from an independent prison visitor in Felton, and I submitted some poems. This would have been 2007 or 2008. I then submitted some artwork, and I got feedback from it. I knew that they had an annual exhibition at the Southbank Centre and that was really quite a big deal to me. Still is. I thought, ‘Wow, these are people who are putting on these West End shows.’ You know, it’s not the West End, but it was that kind of scale. I was thinking, they’ve looked at my artwork, and then the contact just stayed – similar to Jeremy. It does need a lot of people to make it work from both sides.

INT: I read that you two actually first met in 2013. Can you tell us a little bit about that?

JD: We met in Venice. Yeah, very romantic.

JC: I remember specifically, I’d literally just had my final degree show for my BA at CSM. The morning after the opening night, I got a phone call from Koestler saying that they wanted me to apply for a job. I got the job, but not just that – they also wanted me to go to Venice with Jeremy. I think there were 12 of us; we went to the Venice Biennale and to see the British Pavilion and represent some of the artists that Jeremy had selected that couldn’t be there.

JD: In one of the rooms of the British Pavilion that year there were drawings made by men who’d been in the army and then found themselves in prison. The person that ran the arts at the British Council, Andrea Rose, was very affected by the prisoner art and she wanted to develop a relationship with Koestler; she ended up being on the board, actually. She found a way to get some money to take 12 people that had been in prison, but who were into art, and they would come and just see the British Pavilion, but also experience the Biennale in Venice in general – which is kind of a mind-blowing thing if you’ve not been to Venice before, because it is quite an amazing place.

JC: During the Biennale it was in the summer, very warm. I remember the first journey on a vaporetto with all of these ex-cons, and we were all sort of looking at each other, thinking, what are we doing here? It was a very surreal experience, really good fun. To see the amount that goes into the Biennale as well, and the scale of everything, I think it was really helpful for all of us to think where it can go, you know.

INT: That sounds incredible. I feel like in the current state we're in, after so many years of Tory austerity, I can’t imagine something of that scale would happen today? Are those sorts of initiatives still happening?

JD: It’s really about who is running an organisation. Who thinks, well, that’s a good use of my money, or the organisation’s money. At the time, Andrea Rose was really into it, so I just really think it’s down to her, basically. She was really affected by what she saw, just looking at the work made in prisons.

INT: John, can you tell us a bit about your personal journey with Koestler?

JC: My actual visual artwork didn’t get selected but, but some poems did, and they were put in a publication – that was the start of my correspondence with Koestler. I managed to get myself to D Cat prison [open prison] after doing some more artworks in Felton. When I did get released to a D Cat, I was studying art but I still felt very uncomfortable because I was leaving prison every day to go to art school in Chelsea. It was very surreal, like going from an actual prison that was at one point a Nazi interrogation camp, then travelling to the Kings Road. But I met with a mentor, we would often meet at the Southbank, and I remember seeing all the people sitting around and drinking coffee and eating croissants. I was thinking, what is everyone doing here? Because I wasn’t even allowed to go on school trips, so I’d never gone to these places. I knew I wanted to be in them, I didn't have the confidence to go in on my own, to be honest.

Then I went to Venice and got the job as an art handler with Koestler, so it was my job to open up all of the artworks being sent from all over the country – you’d never know what you were going to pull out. It could be someone that would stop me in my tracks and take me back, or it could be something that would just make me laugh my head off, you know? I think that’s the real beauty and value in Koestler, is that you do get the whole breadth of like, the human experience in there. Then I started as an arts worker, and then later on I did some judging for them, then I was asked to curate this show. It’s really put a lens on my time in prison, which I do make art about. But to really think about my first entering Koestler, and where I was, to now selecting artworks. During the curation process, at first I was like, there’s too much to really think about – there’s 7000 artworks, I’m going to do it intuitively. But the further I got into it, the more I realised I did have a role to play as someone with the lived experience of being in prison.

INT: What is the process of curating like? As you said, there’s about 7000 artworks submitted that need cutting down to 200. How do you go about sifting through that?

JD: It’s organised by material, paintings, drawings, watercolour, sculpture. So it’s done in sections, because that’s how you give the awards and the feedback. So you have that to go with. We’ve judged a lot before, so we know what’s involved in terms of the volume. We just turned up and we were assigned someone to help us, and we just went off on our own. We didn’t do it together, because otherwise you’re going to have a conversation about so many things and it’s going to take forever. So we just did it solo.

JC: We also enlisted the help of our selectors.

JD: Yeah, three days doing that, and then we brought in six of our mates, people we know, who are creative people and who are interested in the project, and we involved them in the process. That’s quite important, because they did their own selections as well. So we farmed it out to other people.

JC: I think they selected 15 each, or something like that.

JD: Yeah, about that.

JC: Still might sneak one in…

JD: Yeah, we tried to… it was really too strict.

INT: What really stood out to me [at last year’s exhibition] was the very inventive use of materials. Obviously, materials were quite scarce in prison. I remember the soap carvings and the matchsticks as well. Has there been any particular inventive uses this year round that have really stood out to you?

JC: Well, for me, there’s some jewellery made out of pieces of vape you know. And what’s yours Jeremy?

JD: Well, that was the one actually.

JC: What about the eight-legged one?

JD: Oh god yes – the eight legged one. There’s a spider made out of hair. I think it's human hair? Must be human hair. And it’s quite uncanny. Looks like a tarantula, but it’s almost photorealistic, but it’s just made out of bits of human hair and bound together, which is amazing. It’s the right size as well. So that’s got to be, that’s one of my favourite pieces.

INT: I’m excited to see that! So, one final question. In summary, why do you think Koestler is such an important organisation? What difference do you believe it makes to people’s lives?

JD: I think John’s gonna answer a lot better than me, actually, because he’s a living example. The art room in prisons, for me – I’ve been to a bunch of prisons – it’s the only space you go into where things seem a little bit calmer and people are getting on with something, they’re in their own world, and they’re very quiet. People are really into it, and I think it gives people a bit of hope, a bit of space, a bit of time, and an opportunity to show different sides of themselves to other people, but also to themselves. Art in itself in prison is really, really important, and anything that supports it and encourages it, any charity, is a really great thing, especially now prisons are so overcrowded.

JC: Art rooms, they’re more like the church or the mosque. Quite a lot of people that are in prison were expelled from schools, so I think that a lot of the guys that do have a positive experience in the art rooms, it’s the first positive experience they’ve had in that kind of format or environment. When I was awaiting sentencing, I was in prison for six months before and then in that time, not knowing what was waiting for me, I had so much in my head and inside going on that I had to get it out somehow. I come from quite a big family, and I had never been alone, like really alone. So, when you’re banged up and there isn’t anywhere else to go other than internal, to have something that can channel all of the mess that’s been building and building until you get arrested and sent to prison – it’s necessary, vital. If you want to heal or like to desist from offending, or to process your life. Art is a way of saying the unsayable, isn’t it?