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You Are Here by Ocean Stefan. Photo: Nick Turpin

It’s simple: When people co create the places they live in, they’re healthier, happier and more connected

The Regent’s Park Estate Story Trail reclaims public art as a community voice, turning overlooked spaces into vibrant testaments to care and belonging, writes Teshome Douglas-Campbell

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Public art often gets tangled up with gentrification and urban tourism, serving as flamboyant upgrades for neighbourhoods that seem to favour prospective communities rather than existing ones. But public art is much more than Instagrammable murals or sculptures; it’s a powerful way for communities to speak up, take space and claim agency.

 

Research shows that the ability to shape your environment – even in small ways – has a huge impact on our mental health. But for low-income communities, these opportunities are rare. A 2019 survey by Artspace found “more than 50 per cent of low-income neighbourhoods report having no formal channels or community centres for participation in public art projects”.

 

So what happens when the community takes the lead? The Regent’s Park Estate Story Trail is among a handful of long-form community-led public arts programmes involving over 1,600 residents, initiated by the community and also, ostensibly, for the community – embodying a model of “deep participation”, not just engagement, but co-creation. As community champion Ellie Rudd remarks: “It’s about the journey, not the destination. Even if the destination is quite cool.”

 

Hemmed in by three major roads, Regent’s Park Estate is an island unto itself, quietly tucked away from the bustle of Oxford Street on the fringes of central London. It was built in the 1950s and is Camden’s largest social housing estate. Long-time resident of 20 years Steve notes: “It’s mostly only residents that pass through here.” It’s a close-knit, intergenerational community where, as he says, “everyone knows everyone”.

 

 

Contesting the notion that estates are unwelcoming and austere, blossoming foliage complements the quiet that descends in contrast to the bustle of the high streets that border the site. Passing the gateway of the site at Everton Mews, pedestrians encounter playful signage encouraging them to take a scenic detour through the body of the estate

 

 

Celebrating the neighbourhood’s past, present and future, the Story Trail brings to life oral histories and shared memories through 12 site-specific artworks created by 10 artists nestled throughout the 15-hectare complex.

 

Steve continues: “Covid and the cost-of-living crisis hit us hard … We knew we wanted to do something that might improve people’s wellbeing or how they feel.”

 

Wonderscope by Alisa Ruzavina. Photo: Nick Turpin
Wonderscope by Alisa Ruzavina. Photo: Nick Turpin
Woman Whole by YARA + DAVINA. Photo: Alice Horsley
Woman Whole by YARA + DAVINA. Photo: Alice Horsley

 

From its conception, the Story Trail drew on a pool of expertise and facilitators, ranging from resident organisations such as the community champions and neighbourhood curators to larger organisations such as Old Diorama Arts Company (ODAC), Central Saint Martins and Camden Council.

 

As an area affected by HS2, the Story Trail was made possible by mitigation funds, which aim to address the disruption and displacement caused by the major rail project. In line with funding requirements, the project had a practical goal: to encourage new walking routes through the estate. But Marie, a local, notes they also had a vision beyond this. “We wanted to take care of some of the lurky corners, dark spaces, areas with fly-tipping, we wanted people to enjoy being in these spaces,” she explains.

 

Contesting the notion that estates are unwelcoming and austere, blossoming foliage complements the palpable quiet that descends in contrast to the bustle of the high streets and highways that border the estate. Passing the gateway at Everton Mews, pedestrians encounter playful signage encouraging them to take a scenic detour through the body of the estate.

 

Each installation responds to the unique context of its site. The result is a patchwork of public works that feel personal and specific to the community. Celebrating the entrance to the trail, Rafał Zajko’s piece, Unwritten, draws on hidden histories in celebrating the area’s LGBTQ+ communities. The work’s pigmented bioconcrete sculptures were modelled on specific pieces of chewed gum donated by members of the local LGBTQ+ community, capturing their unique yet invisible DNA. The work celebrates the subversive culture of the local Church of St Mary Magdalene, whose basement doubled as The Crypt, a gay bar and safe space for the queer community, frequented by celebrities such as actors Nina Baden Semper and Kenneth Williams.

 

You Are Here by Ocean Stefan. Photo: Nick Turpin
You Are Here by Ocean Stefan. Photo: Nick Turpin
You Are Here by Ocean Stefan. Photo: Nick Turpin
You Are Here by Ocean Stefan. Photo: Nick Turpin

 

Meanwhile, taking on a neglected wall, a vast painting by Shiraaz Ali commemorates the estate wildlife in a burst of colour, depicting parrots, dogs, cats, foxes and everything in between. Neighbourhood curator Bajha Mahamed remarks: “It brings me joy every time because these are just people’s pets we see daily around the estate.” Brightening up once overlooked corners, the mural stands as an ode to the hyperlocal, through which collective histories are materialised.

 

While public art often might serve to project a more outward-facing narrative, the Story Trail is about belonging, sidestepping token consultation and the idea that working-class communities must wait for culture to be brought to them. Though nebulous as a metric, the ability to affect our environment can have profound impacts on our mental health. From a medical perspective, self-determination theory tells us that fulfilling the need for autonomy is essential for psychological wellbeing. In contrast, environments that are neglected, imposed on or heavily surveilled can erode autonomy and contribute to alienation and stress. However, this ability for self-actualisation through official means often passes over marginalised communities.

 

In combating the complexity of enacting this autonomy, ODAC worked as a driving force behind the project as well as a facilitator between the community and local authorities, helping to secure funding.

 

ODAC creative director Daniel Pitt remarks: “The system is quite complicated and at times inefficient.” Asking approval for one action can require multiple arms of the local authority to agree. Often the difficulty can be getting these different factions in the same room. “Projects like this often happen not by people saying yes, but rather by no one saying no,” continues Pitt. “It requires a lot of persistence.”

 

Embodying a commitment to deep participation that’s unafraid to be slow and thoughtful, artists were required to meet and understand the community in which they were working before delivering their commissions. In creating a genuine reflection of the community, being on the ground is important. With resident organisations such as the community champions and neighbourhood curators feeding back to residents, the project was able to tap into the area’s informal networks. Bajha notes the power that the Bengali Mums WhatsApp group and other informal chats gave the project, providing an uplift in energy and engagement soon after its conception.

 

Estate resident Steve adds: “It builds on a connection that has existed in this area, and those shared stories. Seeing it now being turned into artwork means I can see my DNA in this estate.” 

 

Regent’s Park Portrait by Brendan Barry. Photo: Nick Turpin
Regent’s Park Portrait by Brendan Barry. Photo: Nick Turpin
Unwritten by Rafał Zajko. Pigmented bioconcrete sculptures of chewed gum by members of the local LGBTQ+ community. Photo: Nick Turpin
Unwritten by Rafał Zajko. Pigmented bioconcrete sculptures of chewed gum by members of the local LGBTQ+ community. Photo: Nick Turpin

 

Before any piece went up, artists held workshops, attended community events and sat in conversation. Over a year, 16 sessions were held, attended by over 1,600 residents. As Bajha puts it: “The artists used their skills but it was the resident input that directed them to do what they did. It’s partly a memory of what was, but it’s also a moment of pride of the fact that we fought for and celebrate what’s still here now.” 

 

 

Over a year, 16 sessions were held, attended by over 1,600 residents. As Bajha puts it: “The artists used their skills but it was the resident input that directed them to do what they did”

 

 

Nowhere is that clearer than in T(h)ree, created by design studio Haque Tan, which is arguably the most technologically ambitious of the installations. It was inspired by a provocation from community champion Marie: “If this tree could talk, what stories do you think it would tell?”

 

T(h)ree takes oral histories to a new level. Using an AI model, it works by attributing an anthropomorphic character to a plane tree on the estate, consisting of the stories of residents. Haque Tan notes: “We hoped to explore the blending of ‘natural’ intelligence, ‘artificial’ intelligence, and the full spectrum of ‘human’ intelligence in the landscape of Clarence Gardens.”

 

Prompted by speaking into microphones that surround the tree, the installation talks back, telling visitors about its life and relationship to the wider community through a speaking voice comprised of six residents from the area, merged to form not only a hyperlocal speaking voice but a hyperlocal idiolect.

 

T(h)ree by Haque Tan. Photo: Nick Turpin
T(h)ree by Haque Tan. Photo: Nick Turpin

 

Collective memory plays a crucial role in many of the artworks. Clayground Collective’s piece, Clay Chronicles, memorialises the now-closed local library, for which many have fond remembrances. “The younger ones won’t remember the library,” says Steve, “so the art, in a way, is how we can hold on to that, tell the children about it.”

 

By working with residents from the Bengali Workers’ Association, participants contributed to making the artwork themselves, creating and hand-modelling a variety of surface reliefs to create a ceramic bookshelf that references the nearby roads and key landmarks in the area. Though the library itself may be gone, the artworks give a chance for their stories to live on.

 

The Story Trail has relied on a mixture of factors but it’s clear that an intimate relationship between community organisations was imperative. The straddling of formal and informal channels means it oozes with authenticity and a genuine civic pride. With long-term residents steering the direction of the scheme, it’s an example of residents claiming the role as local urban experts in their own right with the power to leverage their community in ways top-down models simply can’t. Being able to influence your surroundings isn’t just about aesthetics or utility, nor should it be a luxury – it’s about psychological health, empowerment and justice. 

 

Teshome Douglas Campbell is a London based architectural designer, alumnus of the New Architecture Writers (NAW) programme and founding member of PATCH Collective

 


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