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Vidahlia Press and Publishing House Announces the Largest Writing Contest for Prisoners

25 Sep

Below is a message from Vidahlia Press and Publishing House.

Vidahlia Press & Publishing House announces its first literary contest for those incarcerated in federal, state, or county prison. Approximately 2,000 federal and state correctional facilities in the country are participating in the Contest. The Prison Writing Contest will offer prizes including one year tuition payment to an online or correspondence fine arts or creative writing program at a selected college to the first place winners. Submissions can be in any of the following categories: Poetry, Fiction, Drama, Nonfiction and Graphic Novels. The deadline for submissions is January 1, 2014. Winners will be announced on May 17, 2014.

Historically, great works of literature have been produced while the authors were in prison including essays like Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “Letters from a Birmingham Jail”, Cervantes’ “Don Quixote”, Henry David Thoreau’s “Civil Disobedience, Nelson Mandela’s “Conversations with Myself”; novels like E.E. Cummings’ “The Enormous Room” and “In the Belly of the Beast” by Jack Abbott, among a few.

We are very excited about this one of a kind contest and hope you will be able to join us in supporting this event. If you have any questions or need additional information, please do not hesitate to contact us via email [email protected]. We look forward to hearing from you and having your valued support.

Please see the attached documents for more details.

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VIDAHLIA PRESS PRISON WRITING SPONSORSHIP PACKAGE

Film Release: Lost and Found

23 Aug

The following is a message from filmmakers at Passion River, who have recently released the film ‘Lost and Found’.

Prison arts programs have, since their inception, been used to provide
inmates with a more constructive use for their time. Analyses of the
benefits of prison arts programs tend to focus, understandably so, on how
the lives of the inmates are improved: we always hear that inmates with
art as an expressive outlet are able develop valuable skills, and have
generally higher self-esteem. Rarely, however, do we examine the potential
communal importance of prison artists, save for the possible long-term
benefits for the prisoners when they are released and reintegrated into
society. What this fails to take into account is that prison artists can
make a positive impact on the outside world – and many already have.

The inmates at Oregon’s Snake River Correctional Institute provide a great
example of what these programs can accomplish. Since the institute started
promoting the arts, the prisoners have become not only artists, but
philanthropists as well. The arts program at Snake River has become quite
the moneymaking enterprise, and all of the funds generated go directly to
Ugandan orphans, thousands of miles from the prisoners’ cells.

This inspirational story is the basis of our documentary film entitled
“Lost and Found.” The film uses the actions of the Snake River inmates to
challenge our expectations of what is possible for prison artists, even
when they’re still behind bars.

The art of the Snake River Correctional Institute inmates is available for
purchase here. All proceeds from the sale of this art will go to the Otino Waa orphanage in Uganda.
To find out about hosting a screening or purchasing the film, visit our
website.

 

 

The American Prison Writing Archive

4 Aug

The following is a message from the Hamilton College Digital Humanities Initiative.

The United States holds more prisoners and employs more prison staff than any other nation on earth. But there is no central location where the public, policy makers, students or researchers can benefit from the many years of first-hand experience of prisoners and prison workers. The American Prison Writing Archive is an in-progress, internet-based, digital archive of non-fiction essays that will offer the public first-hand testimony to the living and working conditions experienced by prisoners, prison employees, and prison volunteers. Anyone who lives, works, or volunteers inside American prisons can contribute work to the APWA. We seek authors who write with the authority that only first-person experience can bring.

We are open to many styles, but all submitted essays must draw on first-hand experience.

All topics are of interest, including descriptions of sources of stress, ways of coping, health care, causes of violence and ways to reduce violence, material conditions, education, employment conditions and the challenges these conditions present, the environment for volunteers, the aging prison population, visions of a better way to operate (personally, politically, institutionally, etc.), reflections on the work of dealing with time inside (for workers as well as prisoners), the challenges of physical and psychological survival, public perception and popular depictions of prisoners and prison workers, the politics and economics of mass incarceration, what works and why it works, and what doesn’t work and why it doesn’t work (i.e. practical views on reform), etc. We are open to any testimony about the issues that matter to prison staff, administrators, corrections officers, teachers, volunteers, and prisoners.

We value writing that takes thoughtful, constructive positions even on passionately felt ideas.

The APWA is intended for researchers and for the general public, to help them understand American prison conditions and the prison’s practical effects and place in society. All the work in the APWA will be accessible to anyone, anywhere in the world with access to the Internet. The APWA will open the American prison to public observation, and showcase the thinking and writing being produced inside.

Once included in the APWA, work will be retained indefinitely. Contributors can write under pseudonyms or anonymously. We reserve the right to edit or reject work that advocates violence, names names in ongoing legal cases, or libels named individuals. The APWA is not currently accepting poetry or fiction. We accept art (on a single 8.5×11 page) only if accompanied by an essay. A signed permission sheet must be included to post work on the APWA. By signing on the signature line below, you are granting us permission to include your work in the APWA. The questionnaire information will be used to offer researchers points of reference (for example, to study the specific concerns of staff who are veterans, or of Black and Latino men in maximum-security facilities).

Please pass the APWA address and questionnaire to other prisoners, prison workers, and volunteers. (Photocopied, handwritten, or re-typed copies of the questionnaire are acceptable.) There is no deadline. We seek the widest possible gathering of American prison writing, and we will read, scan, and transcribe essays into the APWA on a continuing basis. Previously published work is acceptable if authors retain copyright. Please let us know where and when your essay appeared in print.

Non-fiction essays, based on first-hand experience, should be limited to 5,000 words (15 double-spaced pages). Clearly hand-written pages are welcome. We charge no fees. We will read all writing submitted.

The permissions-questionnaire on the APWA site MUST accompany all submissions. For more information and to download the questionnaire, go to: http://www.dhinitiative.org/projects/apwa/

Mail essays to Doran Larson, Ph.D. Professor of English & Creative Writing at [email protected] or to:

The APWA

198 College Hill Road

Clinton, NY 13323

Paños created in US prisons spark the passion of exhibitor in France

13 Jun

PAC asked Reno Angelo Leplat-Torti, an artist and curator of exhibitions of Chicano prison art in France, to tell us a bit about himself, how his interest in prison art developed, and what kind of impact his exhibitions are having.

Paños Exhibit in France, curated by Reno Leplat-Torti

My name is Reno Angelo Leplat-Torti. I was born in France, but my family emigrated from Italy in the 40’s. I studied art, and then I became an assistant in two different art schools’ silkscreen workshops. I created my own publishing house 10 years ago, and I’m also organizing a big alternative comic festival in France. I’m trying to keep my own “artistic practice” in the midst of all that.

I’ve been interested in “folk art” and in what French speakers call Art Brut (“outsider art”) since my early artistic beginning. As a teenager I was a bookshop rat, and I started to read underground comics like Le Dernier Cri publications. There, I discovered the raw drawings of Stu Mead, Mattt Konture, Moolinex, GaryPanter, Henry Darger and Raymond Reynaud…I began to draw my own comics, found my passion, and began to pursue my own path as an artist by entering art school.

I have always been interested in autodidact art, and discovered prison art while I was looking for prison-made objects like tattoo machines, knives, etc. My first find was a Mickey Mouse hankie, or paño, which I framed. Over time my collection of paños began to grow, and one day a friend with an art space asked if I’d like to exhibit them.

When I’m setting up my exhibition, I really see the wall as an expression of emotions. I feel paños art is something more intimate than a classic prison drawing, more personal. They are windows into a pinto’s heart, and viewing them can feel intimate, almost indecent, like reading a letter belonging to someone else, but the letter is so well written you can’t stop until the end - like the shame you can feel in reading the correspondence between Simone de Beauvoir and Nelson Algren.

Artist: Joe Calderon

Paños art is so interesting to me because of the different dimensions it represents. First, this form has connections to Chicano art, tattoo art, and religious art. But also this art form is a prime example of “making the most of what you have” - the artists are cutting up their pillows and bedsheets, and drawing with whatever they can find inside. It’s not always a technical challenge - the pintos (Chicano slang for “convict”) are not always excellent drawers - but they have time and they put their heart, their soul and their guts in it. And finally the content, the prison hankies are often the only way pintos have to make a gift and express their feelings.

To develop contact with the artists whose work I collect and exhibit takes a very long time, because we need to trust each other, and this is certainly more complicated for them than for me. Because I’m living in Europe it sometimes takes three weeks to receive a letter, so to exchange is not easy. Most of the time I’m in contact with family who send my mail. One guy sold me his hankies during his first week of freedom, first to ward off bad luck, but also because he was needing the money. Now he’s able to follow his own exhibition on Facebook, and he’s helping me a lot. With the families and the inmates I’m now developing very specials links. I’m trying to help them as much as I can, and I think creating these exhibitions is like helping them to travel – they’re locked up, but a piece of their hearts takes a plane and visits Europe. I try to send them photos as often as I can.

Artist unknown

People who visit the exhibitions react very strongly, and most of the time in a positive way. When people in Europe discover my collection they usually haven’t seen paños before, but they have a lot of references. The American prison system is maybe better known here than the French one, especially through the cinema. We don’t have gangs but people are really curious about them. I have found that when people see the paños, they recognize some of the codes and symbols they see in American movies, hip hop music, and tattoo art.

It’s great to be able to share these life testimonies with the public. I once did a workshop in a jail in France. I brought a few paños to the prisoners. My idea was to expose them to that practice and then have them draw their own handkerchiefs using their own codes. I didn’t want them to use the Chicano aesthetic. That was my first time in jail, and at the beginning I really didn’t know if they would like my ideas. But when I showed them the hankies they were totally amazed by them, and by the thought that Latino gang members, who they perceived as “tough guys,” can take a pen and draw to express their feelings.

They identified strongly with the American prisoners. They started to draw for the first time and were really proud of what they created. The French hankies are exhibited with my collection until the 7th of May in the MRAC, a museum in southern France.

I’m currently making plans for a documentary about pinto art. My experience in a French jail totally change the preconceptions I had about the inmates, the guards and the “inside life,” so I’m hoping the film will help people to meditate on the prison system. I don’t know what the outcomes will be, but if a viewer is seduced by something produced by a prisoner serving a life sentence it is a positive step, right?

For more information, please visit http://www.nationculblanc.com.

Artist: David Campos

Thinking “Inside the Box” - a request for practitioners

29 May

World Cast Movie seeks prison arts practitioners who see the possibility of including prison performers in its worldwide film project.

We have launched an open casting call for actors around the globe to fill the shoes of 12 roles for our film. The initial idea was inspired by the opportunity to give talented actors who did not live in traditional film industry hubs such as New York or LA, and who did not have agents, a fair chance to be considered. A chance to let talent be talent, no matter where one was located.

Here’s how our basic plan with non-prison performers works: Any actor on the planet can record a monologue from the script on their camera phones, and submit to us it for consideration. Those that are cast will be sent a small blue screen film studio with lights, camera and microphone, that requires approximately 10-15 square feet of space. The actor will set up the studio according to simple instructions, place and operate the camera according to simple instructions, and act in front of the blue screen while being directed live via an online video conference. Depending on the role, these sessions would take anywhere from 4 hours to 2-3 days of longer sessions. They send us the footage to edit into our movie, and they keep the equipment as their initial payment.

While the logistics are certainly not as casual for performers within the prison system, we still see a world of possibility. We imagine that some prison facilities are equipped with secure rooms that could be set up with the blue screen, and that supervised recording sessions would be possible under certain conditions. The blue screen studio would be donated to the prison facilities, not to the prison performer him or herself, we imagine.

The required setup would be a recorded audition of a one minute monologue from the script. If selected to be a part of the cast, the prison performer would of course receive the script well in advance in order to do as much preparatory work on their own time as they like. We would prefer to have a 2 hour block in which the prison performer would have access to a webcam for an online “table reading” with all of the cast members from around the world. Then, lastly, the prison performer would be scheduled for their filming sessions - with a one-one-one webcam line with the director - under whatever safety conditions are required.

While we have been aware of prison arts programs for a long time, and highly respect their goals and efficacy, we don’t have any direct experience with them whatsoever. We have our dreams, but we simply don’t have the practical knowledge to understand how realistic, or perhaps how unrealistic, they are.

If there are any prison arts practitioners who see potential for this within any of the programs they work with, please feel free to get in touch. We’d be more than happy to hash out the details and see if some sort of collaboration is possible.

In any case, we wish you all the very best, and keep up the terrific work, everybody!

Ryan James

[email protected]

More than Decoration: Art in Juvenile Prisons

13 May

By Katy McCarthy

About the guest blogger: Katy McCarthy is the blog and media director at www.juvenile-in-justice.com. In 2011, she received her Bachelors degree from University of California, Santa Barbara in studio art. When not in her own studio, she is editing and blogging for Juvenile In Justice. Katy can be reached at [email protected]

A youth prison in Maryland where many of the cells, referred to as rooms, have chalk board walls free to be drawn on. A California Youth Authority facility where young people serving “juvie life” sentences tack complex photo collages to the walls above their beds and desks. A cell at a detention facility in Multnomah County, Oregon where an 18” painted square on one wall delineates where young inmates can hang photos—all of the other wall space must remain blank. These are all examples of spaces in youth confinement facilities where children are permitted some creative control. My organization, Juvenile In Justice, having documented more than 200 facilities in 31 states in the U.S, can state with some confidence that the range of visuals/art in the youth prison system is overall pretty bleak.

Art can play a significant role in the process of healing. In the world of health design (Doctor’s offices, hospitals, etc.) there has been a huge movement towards “evidence-based art”- art and design initiatives with observable health outcomes including shortened hospital stays, decrease in pain medication, and lowered blood pressure and heart rate. Other important outcomes include patient ratings of perceived pain, satisfaction with services, and economic outcomes. Studies in the last decade have found some amazing correlations between art programs/visuals and reduced anxiety, stress, fatigue, increased pain tolerance and more positive outcomes in surgical procedures. Nature images tend to illicit the most positive responses.

Keeping the insides of youth prisons blank slates is a punitive tactic that falls more into the “scared straight” category. It reads: “You are bad. You do not have the privilege of looking at anything other than monotone walls. You are here to be punished.” This mentality, manifested as sterile walls and anonymous cells, doesn’t jive with me or arts programs research. Studies by the National Arts Education Research Center show that integrating the creative arts into all learning experiences enhances academic, social, and personal developmental outcomes (Ross, 1991). Just last year the Alaska State Council on the Arts, using money from the Percent for Art initiative, put out a call for entries for artists to create interior artwork for the McLaughlin Youth Center (MYC) in Anchorage, Alaska. The stated goals for the project requested art that would calm youth, imply building positive relationships, stability and consistency, and be relevant to teenage boys from diverse backgrounds. It is refreshing to see an institution understanding that art can accomplish these goals. That it serves multiple purposes and will change the environment from one of punishing to one of rehabilitation and concern for well being.

In his intro to Juvenile In Justice, the book we published in August of last year, Ira Glass writes:

“And what do you call the look- the visual aesthetics- of the jails and prisons we put [kids] in? Going into these places reporting various stories, I’ve learned that usually they are not squalid places. It’s the sterility of these places- the bare, freshly painted concrete walls, the unadorned floor- that makes the truth of what they’re for so obvious and make them so impersonal. These are cages.”

Of course we all want the majority of youth detention centers and prisons shut down. We want more kids diverted to community programs. We want more kids kept out of the system entirely. We want youth prisons to be reserved for the fraction of the youth offender population that poses a public safety risk. But until then, the estimated 60,000 kids falling asleep in cells deserve better than what they have. They deserve art. Art should not be a privilege, it should be considered a fundamental rehabilitative practice.

Below are some photographs taken by Richard Ross as a part of Juvenile In Justice that demonstrate a range of the “visual aesthetics” incorporated and permitted in youth facilities across the country. Sometimes the efforts made to include art are sort of sorry looking. But I can appreciate that start, and encourage more facilities and states to make like Alaska and truly invest in an art and design program that uses evidence-based principles.

The state of visual aesthetics in juvenile justice facilities today:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

All images by Richard Ross for Juvenile-in-Justice

New Issue of BleakHouse Review Now Available

9 Apr

BleakHouse Publishing is proud to release our annual BleakHouse Review, an online literary magazine that serves as an outlet for original perspectives on the criminal justice system. BleakHouse Publishing devotes itself to the creative voices of the voiceless. You will hear from an array of talented American University students, as well as former inmates and current prisoners.

Blending shades of cynicism and hopeful feeling, these poets and storytellers will show you a side of justice you’ve never seen. Alongside these short pieces are stunning (and often unsettling) photographs that capture in images what the writer captures in words. These works will change your mind about the criminal justice system and what it means to be a criminal; ultimately, they will change your heart.

People are trapped by prison walls. Prisoners and others are constrained by personal limitations they build for themselves. The goal of the BleakHouse Review is not to make excuses for terrible crimes, but rather to shed a humane light on the very human men, women, and children who feel the brutality of a broken system every day. In this magazine, you will also read “Momma” by Allison Kroboth, a prisoner at Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women. She adopts the perspective of a child, drawn from her own childhood, remembering in touching clarity the startling arrest of her mother, a caring woman with bad habits.

For many contributing students, this is their first time as published writers. BleakHouse Publishing wants to uplift aspiring artists, propelling them in many instances to their first successes and urging them to use their creative gifts to generate awareness for social justice issues.

BleakHouse Review is edited by Dr. Robert Johnson, a Professor at American University, (literary content) and Carla Mavaddat (art and design). For the 2013 issue, we gratefully acknowledge the assistance and support provided by associate editor Jada Wittow.

A copy of the BleakHouse Review is available online for free on our website for a limited time.

tacenda

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