What is a Third Space? When and how do you breach this space? How temporal; ethereal; lucid; real; nostalgic is this space?
On May 17th we were presented to this site of thought and contemplation. Our guest host Alasdair Watson took the writing enthusiasts and ourselves on a tour of spaces and places that relate to community. We were told that community is connection and this connection can stem from many sites: the imagined, the real, the long past or now gone.
These ‘third spaces’ are a tangible resource that can act as the architecture of communities as demonstrated by the multiple artists exhibiting within the New Glasgow Society terrain. Rowan Ormiston‘s Scottish beasts extracted from narratives presented the historical and cultural side of Scotland’s heritage, bringing to the surface a community of what could have been. Their ghostly wisps an archive of bones, vessels and natural artefacts imprinted onto cyan paper.
At the interlude we were treated to The Slow Chai‘s delicious chai alongside Ally’s reading of his apt poem Tea and a Biscuit. In this moment we created a third space filled with sipping, quiet giggles in delight of sharing words, smiles, and tea.
Ally’s prompts provided an ability to notice a third space; allowing the happening to be celebrated and appreciated for when it occurs. Whether it’s the man who goes for his daily bike ride passing the bloke going for his daily walk, that moment of passing, the brief nod, the hasty ‘hello’ with the taste of ‘I will not stop’; or, the dreaming of a place that has been destroyed but continues to hazily occupy the ground to which it once stood. These profound spaces are what connect us, no matter how small or invisible.
Third Spaces have also become spaces of care, resistance and solidarity; often marginalised these spaces are precarious and continue to exist in memories as they live on the edges of society.
We hold many of these spaces close to us, and capture them, as they have been here.
From Eleanor Harper
There building something on the spot I realised I loved you.
Coming back from years baren.
Finding time, a cruel mistress.
Heavy is the hand of the city planner
… and the weight of tongue-tied hours.
Yet, I know it was real, as it exists in my mind.
And I know this is true, as Plato once said it.
… Or perhaps Descartes, in infinite controversy.
With child-like certainty, grasped all too rarely.
Yet, could they feel my chest scream?
Selfish in grief, as graves sprout concrete.
On a spot flames once burned, silently.
… Would they sever all sentiment?
Buried, beneath thought castles.
Or did they too, sob in the ruin of temples?
… I was coming back to tell you.
From Alasdair Watson
The Cochno Stone
Sun baking my skin as we dust away the soil of time, revealing the ancient carved stone beneath. I run my fingers along the cup and ring markings, feel the grainy stone grooves against my skin. Whose fingers put them there, 5000 years ago. When those neolithic people gathered here, and collaborated on these vast and beautiful stone stories, what brought them together in connection? The land? The stars? What did this space mean to them, and why exactly this precise spot on this very hill?
“Whit ye diggin fur, mister?”
So absorbed in the excavation, I haven’t noticed the team of local kids gathering to watch.
“This is the Cochno stone, it’s the biggest collection of neolithic rock carvings in europe. We’re excavating it to study and see what we can discover, it’s really a unique piece of history”.
“Naw man, there’s hunners a theym hings”.
“I’m sorry?”
“Up the woods, they’re aw ower the joint, we climb aboot them. Great view eh the scheme fae the tap”.
I look at my supervisor, puzzled. There aren’t any other examples of ancient rock art catalogued in this area.
“We’re headin up there the noo furra bevvy by the way, want tae come? We’ll show ye them aw, mister”.
Cup of Tea and a Biscuit
Gurgling of an ancient espresso machine.
The angelic clinking of a cup on saucer.
Sugar sachet tearing, teaspoon tinkling.
Once polished wooden flairboards creak
Under an uncatalogued collection of chairs that squeak.
A cough rasps and a newbairn cry echoes.
Shortbread and stoor fill the air
Wafted by mothy velvet curtains and open windows.
With burnt fusty coffee and gluten free blondie
crumblin ower the shoogly table.
Something buzzes, another beeps
Steam and keyboards and prams and beards and laughter and tourists and greetin and sweetheart and welcome and “there ye go, darlin”
and an infinitely looping audio of friendly, hopeful, strivin, yearnin, learnin.
Please, when yer back, can we go tae the museum for a cup of tea and a biscuit?
From Sarah Scott
What is my third space? I’ve had a lot of third spaces throughout my life. A third space isn’t a physical location as much as it is a state of mind. It is activated by community. My hometown – the whole village – was my first third space. Hanging out with neighbourhood kids at the beach on the pond, the store, the library, the cemetery, each other’s yards. The village dinners with all us kids seeking cover under the long tables from the rain eating slice after slice of pizza. Old Homes Days celebrations every summer – the ice cream socials with the town band playing Souza marches. And then there’s the contra dances every Monday night in the Nelson town hall. Monymusk, Chorus Jig, The Black Nag. Reenacting was a third space on the road, touring around historic sites of New England, New York and Atlantic Canada every summer. Roving gangs of first kids then teens – staying up till dawn dancing to fiddle music and drinking wine and star gazing.
These were the third spaces I inherited. The ones set up for me by parents and neighbours. Third spaces I created came differently. Turn It Up – the record store: browsing and listening to records for hours – buying only rarely. Getting stoned and laughing with the employees. Local gigs and the Thing in the Spring. Local, local, local.
Sparks became another third space. Following the band across cities and then across countries, continents. Making and keeping friends from every show. It’s all about having and making and keeping a community. It all takes effort. Sparks is probably the most important third space for me and it isn’t a place. Seeing them play across multiple venues – but also chatting with friends about them, laughing about video clips, memes, interviews. Sparks are my most consistent third space. It was there when I lived at home in New Hampshire, it was there when I was in Vermont, it’s here in Glasgow, and it’s there when I see them play in London, Manchester, New York, Boston, Brussels, Amsterdam. It isn’t a place, but it’s a space you fill. It’s wherever you make it. I go to a gig alone and make friends with the other folks who came alone. I go hiking with people I met on Facebook. I sing with a group I saw on a flyer posted on an abandoned storefront. It’s best to have multiple third spaces.
Why keep count?
From A-J Reynolds
I imagine tall walls,
walls I have trained to climb,
shifting my weight,
hauling it, bringing me closer to
the summit.
Up there is nothing but jumping
boards, ebbing me to jump into
ends and spirals.
This is a hill I climb and will
continue to reclimb,
splashing into the depths.
Scales reflective, mirroring a
past and future I cannot see.
From Eliza Coulson
I spent my days walking through my mind.
Traversing the crevasses of my mind, the creases of my memories, I try to locate my missing pieces.
Now I come to learn of this third space, perhaps here, my missing memories lie, in a hidden dimension, hidden from view, hidden from my sight.
What is housed in this third space?
Will it show me the parts of myself that I don’t understand.
The words don’t quite come to me, perhaps they lie in this third space.
Although in my mind, this space is very much as tangible as the feelings they evoke. The warmth, the tingling hairs, the shallow breath, the beating heart.
This exhibition was exhibited at the Glasgow New Society and was curated by The Q Canvas alongside artist and session host Alasdair Watson.
Also, a big thank you to The Slow Chai for providing the session with their delicious chai–what a treat that was! The oat-based chai was definitely a highlight.
Lastly, we’d love to bring attention to another hot beverage connoisseur Kahawa Mzuri Specialty Coffee whose very own cafe will be popping up in Glasgow soon. Follow their page to discover more about their mission and their location.
Next [synonym] session
We have announced our June session! It is an exciting collaboration with not only our friend organisation Arts and Parts but also its friend organisation Time Based. This session will be apart of the Time Based: Sonic Intervention Festival; it will be visiting Glasgow’s galleries, libraries and streets between the dates of 11th and 15th June.
To book your ticket for [synonym] click here… and we hope to see you there!
How cute is this graphic!?<3<3
Gal bag. 