Porcelain Dolls

A post for Stanley (them/they)

I was contacted in early 2019 by a mother who wanted someone to do art with her child. I will call them Stan because we used to play and talk a lot about the Stanley Parable game. Stan had an EHCP and didn’t function within a normal school setting. They went to a school once a week for an English lesson and that was it. We spent an hour a week just exploring creative interests and all I did was prepare the materials they needed to make their ideas happen. We covered a lot in our hour sessions – just two individuals interested in developing a creative language. We had certain perimeters and as long as we stayed within them, our session was open and flexible. Those perimeters were usually around time and energy levels, but Stan would then make work at home at other times when they could manage it. What impressed me was their natural ability for writing… they wrote beautifully but it was a painful process and took a lot of energy, so they didn’t do it very often. 

Stan particularly liked old porcelain dolls from charity shops. Stan would alter the dolls appearance using polymer clay and paint. These adaptations to the dolls were often grotesque but Stan was driven to make them and although they were sometimes difficult to look at, I understood that they were being made as a way of working through concepts I personally couldn’t relate too but fully respected as manifestations of following a creative process. The studio was a safe place for Stan to make these things as a way of understanding themselves. I am not an art therapist; I wasn’t there in any other capacity than an artist in a studio, preparing materials for another human who wanted to develop their visual language. We also tried to develop positive studio practices that could help with feelings of confidence and productivity and that using our hands to make creative things was a good experience.

There were a few times that real art formed from Stans challenging adaptations of the dolls. Art that challenged you as an on-looker to think, my favourite doll was called Empty. Stan had basically removed all the stuffing and just left the porcelain limbs. It was simple and beautiful. Little Mo was also a special doll Stanley had kept untouched. We also took some dolls out for photo shoots in the snow.

Our studio sessions have ended now, and Stan has moved away but I do value our time together in the studio. Stan is a super intelligent human who will one day write, and it will be most spectacular. Maybe our time in the studio for a year during a world pandemic may contribute to something in the future, but it was a difficult time for so many people.