Benedict Phillips as the RE:red DIV

3D Thinkers in a 2D World is a performance lecture by artist Benedict Phillips as the new “RE:red” DIV, created for isea2009 (International Symposium on Electronic Art) in Belfast. Developed in response to his 14 years of research within dyslexia, it aims to expose the inner workings of what he describes as the dyslexic ‘3D thinking’ experience. It also presents some of the unusual advantages available to those who think in a “dyslexic” way.

By unpicking his creations such as “The DIV” (subverted from “div” which in the UK slang means ‘an idiot’ or ‘stupid’ to ‘DIV’ or “Dyslexic Intelligent Vision”) Benedict highlights and examines presumptions about intelligence, communication and perception. He plots an emotive course to illustrate and unravel the numerous misconceptions surrounding dyslexia.

Rather than focusing on reading and writing, Benedict explores the unforgiving rigidity of formulae and social structures within the 2D ‘lexic’ world. This lecture offers insight into how to invert society’s perception of dyslexia and, through breaking excepted rules, to empower the lexic and dyslexic alike.

The DIV (Dislecksick Intelligent Vi-jon, a play on the word ‘div’, which in the UK slang means ‘an idiot’ or ‘stupid’)

is a character created to make the statements which take the audience to a place that the artist cannot. At the centre of this body of work is the notion of “dyslexic” as 3D thinker: listening and observation becomes “reading”; declarations or speech become “writing”. The DIV both represents and exposes the inner workings of the dyslexic ‘3D thinking’ experience.

The DIV is present in a number of bodies of work; he is the glue that holds 14 years’ work on dyslexic projects together and is the spokesman for ‘Invisible Conversations’. This constitutes one of five key strands of work which explore some of the varying experiences and possibilities of the dyslexic perspective. These are brought together and explained through the touring performance lecture ‘3D Thinkers in 2D World’.
The five strands are:
DIV 1: INVISIBLE CONVERSATION: UK and US:
An open call for adult Dyslexics to come and speak with the artist before being photographed. This process has taken place at residencies in the UK and the United States, revealing complex systems that people have developed to navigate through the counter-intuitive systems of the “lecksick” world.

DIV 0.2 AV compunction: An online interactive dyslexia Dictionary from “Lecksick to Dislecksick” where “everyone can be Dislecksick- you just need to try harder!”. There includes an introduction on how to use a search engine as a spell check. http://www.thebenedict.net/benedictionary/default.asp

DIV 3D architecture: The development of ideas through conversations with an Environmental Architect. Fundamentally, we share a people-centred approach, but we still wonder what a “dyslexic” building could be like?

DIV 4D: A time-based archive of audio visual content for dyslexics, by dyslexics.

DIV 5: A school for the perfection of dyslexia where you can learn how to be the best Dyslexic you can be. An investigation of the notion that a 3D thinker (Dyslexic), when freed from the constraints of reading and writing, will firmly have the upper hand in the employment market, having been born with the mental talents to navigate conceptual space instinctively.

The DIV from benedict Phillips on Vimeo.

This 32 minute long film was made during a seven week artist’s residency at Persistence Works – a prestigious studio complex in the heart of Sheffield. Named after Benedict’s created character ‘The DIV’ (Dyslexic Intelligence Vision) the film visits Benedict at key moments during a series of public events and conversations and records his investigations into public conceptions of difference. This includes his performance “The Invisible Apartheid of Words” where 60 plus people sat a 45 minute exam in becoming Dyslexic, presided over by The DIV, followed by footage of the Award ceremony where the participants discover with great joy that they are all Dyslexic! It also captures the beginnings of “Invisible Conversations” Benedict’s ongoing international photographic portraiture project. The story is punctuated by conversations with the artist, commissioners, and participants.

By inverting the social traditions of dyslexia as failure and the medical model of disease Benedict tells society where they can stick it and informs and delights in a truly impactful way.

“Everyone can be dyslexic, they just need to try harder” Benedict Phillips

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river river – Dry Dock took place from 15 March to 29 June 2002 as an installation/ performance involving a fleet of 6 cardboard boats, which were displayed for two months in a glass cubed shop window space within Hull city centre. From this base, Benedict proceeded over the next six weeks to launch one of the six boats onto the River Hull or Humber. The audience or stalkers were given tickets to attend and asked to keep a good distance from Benedict as he delivered his 5ft cardboard cargo to the water ways of Hull.

river river was developed in response to the specific character and history of Hull. A city that has found itself – like many cities -cut off from it’s waterways by industrial buildings (on the river hull) and roads (on the river Humber). The intention of this performance was to reconnect the city centre with the waterways that once ran through it.

On the fourth outing of the six, followed by 40 kids and 16 adults, Benedict made his way to the Humber where he lowered a boat “the princess” into the water. As the group watched, the rix Eagle (a 70 foot barge) appeared. It was exhilarating to see this huge boat as it passed close to the 5 foot model and speed it forward with it’s wake. It was at this point that people realized an “eagle” was chasing the “princess” down the Humber. Pursuing her until the crew could manoeuvre along side and pick her up. It was unplanned and unexpected, but nonetheless perfectly timed. The barge then turned around and came past us 3 or 4 minutes later with the 5 ft cardboard boat on board. All the kids shouting “put it back in the water” over and over again. A man on the barge was pretending not to hear the shouting, but kept himself in front of us by walking to the back of the boat as it moved forwards past the crowd. The man now at the stern of the eagle collected and then hurled “the Princes” into the water; to be swept down river away from us, towards the Humber bridge and the sea.

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“Melting Mail delivers four huge blocks of ice to the streets of one of York’s housing estates. There they are. One morning. With the post. Embedded with desirable objects. Do you watch them melt in the sun, or take direct action with a hammer?”

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Back at the beginning of 1999 I was approached, and asked to take part in a project call ‘Spare Time.’ The project had sprung from the Mass-Observations in and around 1939. I was asked to make a piece of work which could be produced in an edition of 500 on the subject of heritage. The work  I produced was called “ In-Heritage “ and was a pamphlet about me, and the history my Grandfather had left behind.

In order for you to understand what brought me here we will need to go forward one day and back 60 years to the 28^th August 1939. It is hard for us now to imagine the madness of that time, as Britain and Germany moved closer to a war neither wanted, a little fact which seems to have been forgotten! But then many people today seem to be under the impression that the war was fought for the Jews rather than because Britain decided to back the military in Poland, a regime only equalled in arrogance by that in Germany.(This  is of course a gross simplification.) But then that is the nature of history. So back to the 28^th of  August!

A Mr. Laurence Hislam found himself walking towards Downing St with a suitcase in one hand and a pre-written note ready in the other. Laurence was a clerk from Camberwell and what he did next was to change his life. Heading into Downing St Laurence worked his way through the assembled crowd until he spotted the policeman on duty, an Inspector Alfred Giles. The note that Laurence then handed to Alfred quite simply said “How would you like bombs in Downing Street?”  Alfred said later “I noticed the word ‘bombs.’” by which point Laurence was running down the street. Alfred fell easily in to his part in this scene and shouted for the man to be stopped as he gave chase. But Laurence was quick on his feet and opened the suitcase in his hand as he sped down Downing Street. The contents of the suitcase was thrown at the assembled crowd:17 black bombs? Or something else, perhaps! The crowd quite understandably panicked, people fainted and fell to the ground. Alfred did eventually catch up with Laurence and arrested him. Unfortunately for Laurence’s face the crowd also caught up with him, so by the time he was in Bow St. police station his right eye was completely closed. In truth, there were no bombs, just rubber balls with peace symbols and messages on them. It is to my knowledge Laurence Hislam’s first pacifistic direct action, and the beginning of a new life dedicated to the cause of peace. Laurence was in prison when the war started serving 4 weeks hard labour for the Downing St incident .

Time, I guess to look at how I came to be standing here on a street corner with a glass sided suitcase full of, glass bombs!

Well first of all, most of the information about the incident in 1939 did not come to my attention until the beginning of 1999. Second, my name, Benedict Laurence Hislam. I am the grandson as well as the first male descendant of Laurence Hislam. In 1909 Laurence was born. I followed in 1969 and so it is only in this year (the 60^th anniversary  of the suitcase incident ) that I could be the same age as he was in the same place with a distance between us of 60 years! Which is the distance between us. As crazy mathematicians always seem to be saying, “I like the numbers!” i.e. 1909-1939-1969-1999. the thing is because I did not know about most of this until this year the other coincidences in our lives were also unknown to me. These coincidences include activities  in common, such as shaving our heads; he for demonstration, me for preparation! The writing of manifestos and political pamphlets: we have both spoken on Speakers’ Corner and been founding member of organizations which have striven against the madness of the norm.

I myself co-founded FIELD STUDY in 1993, an organization which believes that everyone is an artist and that it is in the space between the activities on our CVs  that are the true creative times ! Laurence was a founding member of the committee of 100, an organization with members who were all prepared to go to prison for their beliefs, which were based on an absolute abhorrence of violence and commitment to the removal of nuclear weapons from the U.K. As in many other actions in his life Laurence was imprisoned in1961, this time with Bertrand Russell and three other members of the committee of 100. I think of this incident which took place while he was there.

At 9 pm every night the lights went out. But Laurence liked to read before going to sleep, so he re-wired the light in his cell and blew all the lights in the prison. It reminded me of the suitcase and all those vulnerable spheres of  breath held in the air tight case. And what my grandmother said “It was never boring living with Laurence.”

By the time I was standing on my second traffic island of the day I could feel people’s eyes upon me. By this time I could see the gates to Downing Street and my speed was faster as I moved down the pavement towards my 12 o’clock appointment with history. The blackness of the clothes I was wearing ( in homage to my grandfather’s Hiroshima vigils) stood out against the multi-coloured day-glow and summer wear all around me. Though I was aware of the curiosity of the crowd I moved straight through it at speed with no hint of a collision, or a foot out of place. I felt like I was on some kind of predestined auto-pilot. At the moment I reached those big and black gates two things happened at the same moment. First I was surrounded by puzzled faces, to my back tourists and to my front a small line of policemen. And second, an old friend of mine shouted my name and took a picture of me as I turned to look his way. I introduced myself to the policemen, who informed me that though my name was on his list my photographer’s was not. So I found myself, like my grand father before me, walking up Downing Street alone.

So Tony Blair has this suitcase in his entrance hall, it is so much heavier than you would expect .In fact the policeman who took it on Tony’s behalf and placed it on the entrance hall table decided to turn back to it almost immediately and  place it on its side on the newspapers there. Then returning to me he asked whether there were any documents to accompany it. I said that they would follow  later and handed him my card which has a picture of me on the front grinning, with the words MY ART, YOUR FACE running round the top edge of my head, with my name; BENEDICT underneath.

I presume that Tony will have to declare my gift ! I will be most interested to know what he will say it is!

I said to Mr. Blair in my letter “I am writing to enquire whether you have yet had a chance to examine my gift to you”. (As well as asking“ How far we have come? And how far do we have to go?”) And Tony said

“ Dear Mr. Hislam,

The prime minister has asked me to thank you for your

recent letter and glass case.

Mr. Blair is most grateful to you for your kind thought in

writing.”

I also explained to Mr Blair in my letter that:

“This glass sided suitcase filled with 18 glass vessels I delivered to 11 Downing Street at 12 noon on the 27 Aug 1999. 17 of the 18 vessels contain a human breath which was blown in to the vessels after the writing then reading (in silence for the most part) of prayers and poems for peace . Quite simply you can not see these prayers or the breath for peace, but that does not mean they are not there. The case itself is 18lb in weight and if you have had the impulse to lift it then you will know what a burden these prayers can be, as well as knowing that it must be placed carefully so as not to crack or smash its air tight body”.

Quite simply my action’s first  purpose was as a reminder of the importance of life. Despite all the celebration as we reach the end of the century, the reiteration of that phrase “ we should never forget, so it can never happen again “ seems like a banal mantra to me, when over one hundred and sixty million people have been killed in wars in this century. When I hear “we must never forget , so it can never happen again”. Shit that’s so off the mark it makes me sick. I have to ask ‘So what can never happen again? Rape, war , slavery, ethnic cleansing, never again! We say “never forget” but I see, it never stops. So how far we have come? And how far do we have to go? These questions seem as pertinent today as when my grandfather asked them in his way, 60 years ago. As Ghandi said ”I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary and the evil it does is permanent”.

Duchamp gave a vessel of Paris air to the man who had ‘everything money could buy’ the year my grandfather was ten. I have given the breath of the anonymous to a man whose job it is to promise everything! My case is quite a weight to lift but then if Tony drops my big glass, the copy is already made!

For the time being anyway I feel I will keep the prayers and poems to myself, except the one which I re-enacted on Laurence’s behalf. This was from some time after the suitcase incident when he was being interviewed by the BBC TV.

“There is one thing that those who believe in this co-operative community know – that a bayonet is a weapon with a worker at both ends”.

I will finish this story of suitcases and similarities with something Duchamp said

“ I breathe”.

Benedict Laurence Hislam

The Agender of the Agresiv Dislecksick

The premises that is set by educashon on the dislecksick only leevz one avenyou to follow. This is not the normall way. But one you must billed your self for all avenyooz of normallsee are closed by the bigut. And so it berginz !

Thair is litell dowet in my mind that persaqushon is to be the fer-los-serfee of your saroundingz. so you must kick ! And kick hard. For thair is only one thing your foot will hit, and that is the wall of intolaruns. You will fined yourself being tolled you are stuped by the moron. Thay will smerk at you with thair ignarents. Thay will pat you on the hed for spelling in thair perversely ilogacul way. Not seeing that even a gentell stroke of latrul thort wud tell them you were born with the upper hand ! This thay will never see. And thowz sent to help you ? Will see themselvz as the mishonary. Thay will be so proud of themselvz wen seeing that you can lern to twist your mined to Ilojicull. Prnounsing themselvz rite with the eco of your paret spell in the background. Fuck the lot of them. Why lern to do a thing that is not your destiny ? You can rite and the shock in thowz hoo will reed is not in that thay canot understand. But that yours is a more lojcull way.so wen you hear them say “I red wot you have riton and thow it woz hard for me at ferst and forst me toconsider the context of the prowz, and on akajon had to ree reed braking werdz in to soundz and shapes to understand. I did it and it woz good”. To this is your reeplij. For every day of school and every day of life that arscs me to reed your langwidg, I hav no chojss but to reed that way.

Realaty is wot man understandz, trooth being wot he berleevz. The realaty of the dilecksick is not shaird by menny, so thair for – the outcast. The trooth is noing you are the outcast. Taking advantij of the youneek prospectiv. Do not eksept the translashon ! for this is the rowed to banality. For wuns you eksept the translater as naseserty, you denigh yourself the freedom of your owen verlishon. As litraseey is the norm for most, it is the strate jaket to you hoo are chozen by lojick. Do wot no litret can do with instinct. Take the langwidj and sine it with your owen hand.

Do this in your owen name and if it helps, do it for all thows fuckwits hoo let thair creativerty di in thair folss litrasee.