Creating a Change - Part One: Access

Twenty-three years ago last month, I had the privilege of becoming the leader of a community arts organisation. I had been working in community contexts for years before, but this was different. This was an almost unique opportunity to help not just define where art and social purpose met — but to make something happen, where our creativity had to prove itself, in the lives and places of people too often left out of the cultural conversation. To make a New Belfast. 

The great, foundational platform of Community Arts Forum, established in 1995 by Martin Lynch and later guided by Heather Floyd, had arrived at a very unique, succinct and elegant way of describing everything that was community arts  - Access, Participation, Authorship and Ownership. I was enchanted not only at the simplicity, but the universality and profundity those 4 words allowed. Those 4 words became everything to me, professionally and artistically, over more than 25 years.  They still guide me today and test my work but they also offer a frame of reference as to how our world has caught up with that vision and perhaps ignored the valuable insights they offered. 

In the years since, Access has come to mean something far more complex than many may first have imagined, but others may have also tried to narrow the definition too. It’s not just about opening doors - it's not just accessibility (which is also central to its meaning) - it’s also about elbowing your way into a discourse and trying to change the structures that decide who gets a key to the door in the first place.

In these next months of blogs , I will try to reframe those four powerful and interconnecting words into a series, to re-examine a quarter of a century of creative determination  -  from above and below - and where we find ourselves today. It's a small reflection of policy and outcomes in my own corner of the sector. 

A New Chapter

As I write, CAP is in motion again — packing boxes, planning moves, negotiating terms and making space for what’s next. Moving premises always makes me think about purpose: what we’ve built, what still matters, and what needs re-imagined.

It always feels like a time of renewal. The CEMENT programme (community, engagement, mentoring, networking and training) is gathering pace, new partnerships are forming, and our move signals more than a change of address — it’s a chance to restate what community arts mean in a society that’s showing its age; fraying at the edges and increasingly fiscally fragile.

Over the months ahead, I’ll use this space to explore what I’ve now come to call the Four A’s: Access, Agency, Authorship and Active Ownership. They describe not just how participation happens, but how creativity becomes social action — how people move from being invited in, to leading, shaping and sustaining the work themselves.

These pieces aren’t manifestos so much as reflections from practice — part memory, part provocation — written as we seek to settle into a new home and a new phase. My hope is that they’ll help clarify where we stand, and how community arts can keep acting as a small but vital force for renewal. And to invite others to carry that momentum forward. 

I had been working in community and development contexts for years before — in neighbourhoods, even countries, where creativity was often the only bright light left on — but running an organisation was different.

I began to understand Access not as a gesture or an outcome to report, but as a lifelong act of translation: between policy and people, between those who hold resources and those who hold stories, between the rhetoric of inclusion and the lived reality of connection.

So Access is not just another noun, nor another verb — it's something you do, and keep doing. It’s what happens when you see an opportunity that doesn’t yet exist and set about creating it. In Northern Ireland and everywhere else, that act of creation has always been political (big or small 'p'), even when it doesn’t look like it. That was the powerful beauty and elegant ignition of Martin Lynch’s vision for community arts here. 

We live in a place where the divisions of history overlap with the inequalities of disadvantage; where the peace walls and the dole queues often trace the same terrain. To speak about Access in such a context is to confront the deep architecture of exclusion: not just who gets to participate, but whose imagination is resourced, whose future is planned for. And that ‘them and us’, is as vertical as it is horizontal. It isn’t about two traditions, but it isn’t not about them either, if that makes sense. It's about more and much less.

When I started at New Belfast Community Arts in 2000, access began as inclusion. But it soon translated as intervention. Today still, when government systems fail to provide even the basics — when NHS waiting lists stretch into years, when teachers are patching windows with cardboard to keep classrooms draught-free; then the idea of access to culture becomes a test of what we still believe a public life should really be.  Access becomes a mirror, reflecting who and what we are prepared to leave behind. It measures not only how many people attend a workshop or exhibition, but the moral reach of our institutions - our willingness to imagine rights as something that must be shared, not rationed.

When communities remain under-served decade after decade, this is not a bureaucratic oversight; it is a declaration of priorities. At a time when our Programme for Government is titled ‘Doing What Matters Most’, the implication is easy to read. The pattern of exclusion reveals our values far more truthfully than any governmental plan.

As the great Raymond Williams put it, “Culture is ordinary: that is where we must start.”

Access, in that spirit, asks whether our cultural systems have really started there — with the ordinary, the overlooked, the unheard, the marginal...the other.

Much of my working life therefore has been spent in translation: between the communities we serve, the artists we support and the policymakers who struggle to serve them all.

Every funding application, every consultation, every partnership is a small act of reinterpretation: taking the language of governance, the funder, the policy, and turning it toward human experience.

That’s what access work often looks like - unglamorous, iterative, sometimes exhausting. That there is the spirit of community arts.

It’s the art of converting intention into possibility, of finding the gaps in the system and quietly widening them until someone else can step through. There is a kind of grace in that persistence, but also a cost. I am lucky that I get to witness the graciousness of community artists’ generosity and impact all the time. Part of my role as an advocate is to sometimes live between two worlds: one that speaks in metrics, and one that voices need. The trick is not to let the first silence the second. And if one parrots the language of the neoliberal, one needs to be vigilant not to adopt their grammar. 

That’s why Williams still matters to me. In Resources of Hope, published after his death, he wrote that “to be truly radical is to make hope possible, rather than despair convincing.” Those words feel like a quiet manifesto for community arts - the work of making hope possible, not through slogans, but through the steady building of pathways into creativity.

Access can be imagined as a threshold - once taken, everything can change. For CAP, access has always meant shaping and supporting the pathway beyond: lobbying for changes in policy, reframing funding, and reinterpreting opportunities for “participation” so that it means genuine authorship can flourish. After that, some stakehold is established, the legacy of ownership. All of which I'll offer my take in future posts.

Access is not about bringing people into "our world of the arts", that's the grab-hold language of ‘outreach’. It’s about expanding that world until it already includes them all. That’s why this work can’t be detached from questions of social justice, economy, or belonging.

When we talk about access, we are talking about redistribution; of resources, of visibility, of equity. We are talking about cultural democracy not as an aspiration, but as infrastructure: the connective tissue of a society that still believes in itself. 

Another great foundational quote from Williams is that “the test of a true democracy is not how it speaks to the powerful, but how it listens to the ordinary.”

I think about that often. The “ordinary” here have endured extraordinary things; from the grinding marginalisation of socio-economic disadvantage, to the inheritance of trauma from previous generations, to the hateful ‘othering’ of communities struggling for an equitable foothold in this place.

Yet in every community we work with, I see imagination at work: stubborn, generous, resourceful, talented - surviving against the odds. That is where access resides too... not with policy documents but with the quiet courage of people still willing to make and share meaning together. That is culture.

In a time when so much feels broken - when public life itself seems to be unravelling with every stark warning of loss, cuts and closure - with every bewidering technological broadens a digital divide - Access also becomes an act of faith. Faith in the idea that creativity is not what we reach for when life improves, but part of how we actually improve life. Faith in the idea that democracy is not only a vote, but a voice - and that every act of making, however small, is a rehearsal for that voice being heard.

So, when we speak about Access now, we should mean possibility. We should mean the stubborn refusal to accept that austerity should extend to the imagination. Access is not just the beginning of the process; it’s the measure of our cultural democracy and the test of our civic hope.

PS We had a great initial session of ReImagining Arts Advoacy on the 10th October at QUB Centre for Ethnography, with my comrades Sara Walmsley and Mairead Duffy and host of others. More to come on that...

April Fools, 2025

April 1st. The day of fools. But for Northern Ireland’s arts sector, April Fools’ Day has lost all novelty—it’s just another date on the calendar when absurdity takes centre stage.

Today marks the beginning of the new financial year. Not a single annually funded arts organisation has received a Letter of Offer from the Arts Council of Northern Ireland. No one even knows if they met the threshold to receive funding. We are now officially into a new working year with not a penny of funding in place, no contracts signed, no safety net, no core support from our principal funder - just a hope that something might land in the inbox before insolvency kicks in, or the protective redundancy notices get sent.

Last year, this situation was unprecedented. It was truly shocking. In 25 years, I’d never known such an instance.  Bear in mind that in that quarter of a century, the arts have professionalised massively here. And the whole area of applied creativity is so embedded in every facet of publicly funded arts services right across the country.  But for this to happen again - this year, with all we know, with all we have said, with all the evidence that we continue to lay out? That’s not just alarming any more ; it’s absurd. Who was it that said: “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” That’s right, apparently the same fellow who said “Not everything that counts can be counted.” Go figure Einstein!

Given the year we’ve just had, what’s the strategy to take things forward? The Arts Council of Northern Ireland’s 10-Year Strategic Plan, 2024–34 - which had only recently been developed through extensive consultation and which has guided every funding application over the past year, seems to have been effectively pushed aside. Now, whatever you may feel about such strategies , we all need parameters to work within, especially when we anticipate gaining investment from the hard-pressed public purse. And we know that despite that corporate language and the objectives, this is intended to support the creative sector here and all that flows from that. But that sectoral engagement and those ambitions have seemingly been overwritten by just a few lines in a ministerial statement and a Letter of Expectations. And when you compare the broad, ambitious aims of the ACNI strategy - supporting artistic excellence, inclusion, sustainability, and access across all communities - with the minister’s rather minimalist declaration and somewhat vague expectations, whilst the contrast in presentation could not be starker, there seems to be so much alignment in the substantive priorities and direction: wellbeing, inclusion, community engagement, creative participation, and collaboration. So why, then, the realignment? Why the implication that what we have all been doing over the years has somehow failed, when the strategic direction of travel already broadly matches? Priorities such as widening participation, enhancing inclusion, fostering innovation, and contributing to wellbeing are present in both. Given this alignment, it is reasonable to ask: why introduce ambiguity, risk, and delay when the means to deliver those objectives are in place? 

And, if that isn’t the case, what is? Where is the ministerial strategy for the arts… what's the timeline?

Meanwhile, our Programme for Government, for what it's worth, talks of wellbeing. Of tackling inequality. Of cross-departmental collaboration. Of investing in people, place, and opportunity. But how does it square with the fact that not one arts organisation knows if it can keep its staff, deliver its projects, or even pay the electricity bill?

What’s more, every publicly funded arts organisation in this country is governed by unpaid trustees, (directors and board members), whose own personal liability is the guarantee that underpins all these charities. And all publicly-funded arts organisations are charities, with objectives approved by the government, to carry out fundamentally beneficial support to our society. Each and every one of them. Its volunteers who offer oversight to them, who are charged with the responsibility to ensure that their charities are run safely and compliantly. What do these people do today, as a whole sector holds its breath…again? Do they have reserves? Is it too risky to operate a charity in this situation, with no surety about anything? Should their risk registers light up red across the board? At what point do these organisations fall foul of charitable legislation around illegal trading? Is this the way good governance works or do those politically charged with supporting the arts bear some responsibility too?

The PfG talks more about enabling sectors to flourish. It talks about innovation, creative industries, skills development, cultural inclusion, and mental health. It gestures toward a vision of a joined-up, vibrant society. But on the ground? The people delivering all that vision: the organisations, volunteers, artists, facilitators, and communities, what do they get?

Yes, this April Fools day, just who are the fools? It's us isn’t it?

Because we are asked to believe. To trust that funding will come, with no guarantee it will. That a strategy is coming. That investment is on its way. Are we deluded? 

Despite it all, the sector endures. It adapts. Perhaps foolishly, it still shows up. But let’s not mistake that faltering resilience for consent. Let's not pretend that the sector's determination is a vote of confidence in all this. People have mortgages, dependents and families, responsibilities… and loads of skill and ambition.

Elsewhere in the UK, investment in culture is being ramped up. Grand announcements. Real money. Concrete commitments. Here? We’re still waiting …

So again: are we the fools?

The ones who still perform on the high wire—with no safety net in place, only protective redundancy notices waiting in the wings? The ones who must keep their balance while the ground beneath them shifts unpredictably? 

The minister first announced “new priorities” back in July 2024. It’s now April 2025. So:

Where is the strategy?

When will we see a draft?

Who has been consulted in its development?

When will the statutory consultation begin?

And what will the timeline be for implementation?

Because if this drags on, we may well find ourselves at the end of 2025, once again facing a December deadline for annual funding applications without a coherent strategy to apply to… And what then? Will it be the same next year? Will this whole sector be asked to suspend disbelief again and accept this narrative, this continuing drama?

And why, having refined so many multiple cultural strategies, reports, and consultative frameworks (culminating in the ground-breaking cross-departmental co-designed Investing in Creative Delivery 2023, which took two years and involved expert input from all corners of culture arts and heritage sectors), does government continue to rewrite the script? Why, when representatives and leaders responded to the challenge and have co-designed and collaboratively developed expressing articulately, objectively, just where culture, arts and heritage are and how they can be better supported, why is all that being sidelined, as we wait for piecemeal strategies, one for the arts, one for culture… all apparently coming soon? 

I recall being at a meeting, way back in 2003, where representatives from across those self-same sectors bemoaned the fact that we continued to have work in silos instead of recognising how interconnected our processes could become and how much more effective our collective creative and community facing support could be. That was 22 years ago. As glaciers recede at a frightening pace across the globe, we can no longer point to their incremental pace…Culture and arts and heritage don't live in isolation  - they live in schools, in hospitals, in youth centres, businesses, in streets and city halls, old people's residential care, as well as theatres, pubs, institutions, museums, libraries, tourist attractions…They underpin who we are and what we do. They are interconnected. They are the very basis of how we see ourselves and how we let others see us. 

And the ministerial Letter of Expectations of February this year, talks about respect, pointedly saying that funding must not support anything “disrespectful of any tradition.” What does that mean? Is it disrespectful to our tradition of making art in our community, our long established customs of supporting truly ground-breaking arts organisations and artists, to now further destabilise the work we do, the work we have shown to be exemplary, compliant with all existing ambitions and objectives; produced year on year despite the worst levels of under-investment in these islands for decades? Does that constitute respect? Is it respectful to the communities of interest, practice or place, communities on the very margins of society, and our artists and artisans, musicians and facilitators, or those whose ethnicity or perhaps disability creates even more obstacles to participate in the cultural life of this place… does it show respect for all our collective traditions and ambitions to have everyone hold their breath, performing a high wire act without a safety net?

Are artists meant to tiptoe quietly around everyone and everything; every interpretation of identity, history, or society? Has the traditional role of art making changed? And if we are to be told that it has, how do we respond? Will we be informed just how in the new strategy? 

And yet, across the water, in Westminster, Jennie Lee’s legacy from 1948 is being invoked again. Lisa Nandy, Secretary of State for DCMS, speaks of arts everywhere, of £270 million in new funding, of a renewed cultural compact with communities. Fit-for-purpose infrastructure. A vision of culture embedded in everyday life. A moment of renewal for citizens of …well not here. Because let’s be absolutely clear - UK arts policy has no impact in Northern Ireland. These announcements don’t trickle down or across. Even when there is a Barnett consequential, would we see any of that additional money that represents that hope of renewal? No,  the funding gets swallowed up in the Northern Ireland block grant, never to be ring-fenced or invested in our local cultural infrastructure. Not a penny of that cultural succour is guaranteed for any artist or organisation, or venue here. Or has there been a statement in that regard that I foolishly missed? Unfortunately, no, there hasn’t. 

So whilst we might applaud the creative ambition of “across the water”, we are not even an audience…just bystanders. 

So maybe that’s the ultimate April Fool’s, beyond the joke. That we keep going. That we do it for love, for community, for passionate belief. That we somehow convince ourselves that holding it all together is enough, is a necessity turned virtue. But is it? The definition of resilience is not being overwhelmed. 

So no, perhaps we shouldn’t smile politely through this one, on this April Fool’s Day…

Five Years On: locking down

March 2020 was a time of huge uncertainty. Information was conflicting, government advice was unclear, and the arts sector—like many others—was left wondering how best to proceed. As CEO of Community Arts Partnership, I found myself facing a difficult decision: whether to wait for official mandates or to act pre-emptively to protect staff, artists, and the communities we served. I consulted our board and impressed on them the urgency I felt. 

We decided to close our doors before government restrictions were enforced. It was not an easy decision. The weight of responsibility was immense, and there was no precedent for a crisis of this magnitude. Where some in the contemporaneous media questioned whether it was necessary, for me and our staff and board, we expressed relief, understanding quickly and sympathetically the seriousness of the situation. That early decision to shut down all direct contact work marked the beginning of a long and challenging road.

Closing the doors was just the first step. The immediate challenge was figuring out how to keep things going in a world that had suddenly shifted online. The scramble to adapt was chaotic: staff members had to set up home offices overnight, artists needed to find new ways to engage with their audiences, and community groups—many of whom relied on face-to-face interaction—had to adjust to digital platforms that were unfamiliar and, in many cases, inadequate for the kind of work they did.

Some aspects of the transition worked better than expected. Digital meetings and collaborative tools became lifelines, allowing work to continue in a way that wouldn’t have been possible even a decade earlier. But there were also gaps. Not all projects could be transferred online, and for some artists, the shift to digital engagement meant an immediate and perilous loss of income and opportunity. We found ways to support. We signposted and we filmed; we edited, we zoomed and then we zoomed some more. The shift wasn’t just logistical; it had a profound emotional and psychological impact on everyone involved. And for the very vulnerable, it meant trying our very best to offer some continuity. 

With everything in flux, maintaining financial stability was of course a critical concern. Arts organisations faced an existential crisis, with many fearing they would not survive. Many artists went into freefall. The government response provided some relief: Northern Ireland received £33 million from the UK’s £1.57 billion Cultural Recovery Fund, which provided emergency grants to many. But it was understandably and regrettably slow. The Culture, Arts & Heritage Recovery Taskforce was established in May 2021 to oversee the sector’s reopening and long-term recovery. These interventions helped sustain many organisations through the worst of the crisis, but they were not a panacea, even if they had all been realised. And for a sector that was already struggling with decades of systemic underinvestment, artists bore the brunt of it. And so they left, or took any job to get by, or went to ground, unhappy, isolated and alone. 

For us in CAP, securing funding meant constant engagement with funders and policymakers, making the case for why community arts mattered even more in a pandemic. Some programmes had to be adapted or scaled back, while others found new life in digital formats. The efforts of the sector were so evident, but so was the vulnerability. 

What began as an emergency measure gradually became a long-term reality. Remote work, once seen as a temporary solution, became an embedded part of how arts organisations function. Even as restrictions eased, many aspects of remote working remained, changing the nature of collaboration and engagement. Even this year, after five years, some of the remote still remains. 

The shift had both positive and negative consequences. On the one hand, it has allowed for greater flexibility, reduced travel time, and enabled wider participation in meetings, workshops and events. On the other, it led to the loss of physical creative spaces, disrupted all the informal networking opportunities, all the chats and craic, and left some artists and many communities feeling utterly isolated, burnt out and vulnerable. The community arts sector, which thrives on in-person interaction, had to find new ways to build connections and foster collaboration.

Beyond the logistical and financial challenges, there was an even greater toll: the human cost. The pandemic took lives. Friends, colleagues, and community members were lost. Not necessarily to Covid 19 but those remote funerals became the only option for so many, stripping away the opportunity for collective mourning and leaving many with that grief unresolved. It also completely shifted school age kids towards even more screen time, on their own or at least, alone in an online connected labyrinth. Many still haven't bounced back from the isolation, the torturous home-schooling and lack of contact with peers and friends. For a great many, the effect of the pandemic will be felt for many years yet. 

The impact of these losses was profound, and the sense of isolation only made it harder to process. Our work in the arts, which is built on relationships and shared experiences, had to navigate not just professional challenges but that deep personal challenge. Even now, five years since it all started, we can all still sense the echoes of that grief and loss. Standing outside, apart.

Looking back, the decision to close down face to face work ahead of government mandates was the right one. It prioritised the health and safety of those we served, even if it came at a cost. It kept vulnerable staff members safe too. But no one knew how long it would all take and while many just lashed out at anything and everything, the careful and considerate took a beat and kept on working.

The pandemic may have indeed forced a re-evaluation of how arts organisations operate, highlighting the sheer immense vulnerability that we all share in times of crisis, but it also put us more in touch with those people and communities already challenged by health issues or those already struggling on the margins. The exacerbation of every deficit and difficulty was the pandemics long lasting price.

Where some aspects of the sector have recovered, others remain in flux. Face to face working is more prized than ever but while digital engagement has reshaped how many work, it has also become way more complicated and indeed, unsure. Spam, junk, scams, clones. They’re all more dangerously rampant than ever now . And AI seems to have only accelerated the level of level of everything - albeit washed in lazy computer generated platitudes and inaccuracies. Reaching out? Please, get a grip!

Remember building back fairer (never mind better, which was a forlorn hope, dashed hopelessly early). As the emergency funds are a thing of the past and everyone is fighting for funds from every possible avenue, the question now is not just how we rebuild, but how we ensure that the lessons of the past five years are not forgotten. How do we create a more sustainable, adaptable, and inclusive arts sector when there is little by way of new investment? How, when the arts have been summarily de-prioritised by our central government in the Assembly's PfG and replaced with top down short term missives about new priorities without any new monies, how do we survive, never mind grow? And how do we honour those that worked so hard and gave so much, at personal and often professional cost, along the way? Five years on, there are more questions than answers. The arts did matter…they should still. 

Community Arts Partnership … 25 years on

My personal and professional gratitude to everyone, over all the years. 

In 1999, Martin Lynch had another of his great ideas. At this time, the creativity was sparking in the Community Arts Forum offices, with Martin leading a creative revolution in the town and inspiring community groups to write and perform dramas about their lives and their ambitions for them. Martin was constantly looking for funding and the European Peace Funds had been announced. A funding initiative that would hopefully cement the fledgling Good Friday Agreement of 1998, into the hearts and minds of civil society and offer everyone a platform for progress. So, having investigated, Martin thought “ Why not take advantage of all this peace funding for consortium groups and build a new network of community arts  and community development organisations across Belfast?” 

And, so, after wrangling a grouping from all arts and parts of the city, he determinedly brought together leaders from loyalist and republican areas, unionist and nationalist and representatives of minority ethnic groups as well. Thus New Belfast Community Arts Initiative was conceived, somewhat immaculately, and duly signed into existence on 22nd December 1999. 

Just two days later, on Christmas Eve 1999, my own father Jim, took his final breaths, aged just 59. He had suffered from the most inhumane of medical conditions, leaving him trapped, fully-conscious, in his totally disabled body, for many years. I had been his carer for 7 years at that point and had dreaded this day. However it was of course a welcome release from torment for a beautiful man who had suffered so terribly for those years at the close of a millennium. 

As the new century and millennium kicked off, Belfast was emerging from the pall of conflict and into the political pressure cooker of peace and hard won progress. Or at least that was the hope. And whilst optimism was abundant, there was growing evidence that financial support might be too, as Martin Lynch has since remarked about this time, when the Labour government in Britain ‘turned on the taps” - and funding finally flowed into so many arts and parts of this wee corner of the world. 

And as I returned to the world of work and creativity, opportunities started to show themselves. As a musician, I was playing for Tinderbox, Kabosh, Youth Lyric among others, as a stage manager for Belfast Children's Festival and others and then, of course, well, I got a gig with New Belfast Community Arts Initiative. 

New Belfast had a new coordinator, with Lizzie Devlin (now a longstanding stalwart in the Arts Council) having been replaced by the ever-thoughtful Joe Sheehy (RIP) in early 2001. Joe offered a young skinny me an opportunity - taking groups on song-writing workshops. Joe was aided and abetted now by one Geoff Harden - Belfast’s own ‘whispering bob’, a man with a plummy Home Counties voice who established the Sunflower Folk Club and was a mainstay of the Belfast Folk Festival, having run the Medway Folk Club in Kent for many years in the late 60s and 70s. And of course, there was a rather quirky American who ran a poetry programme and could be heard chatting animatedly about anything and everything from Wisconsin to Belfast and back - Josh Schultz. Also in that team at that time, was a fresh-faced artist called Sally Young and a rather spritely Grainne Kielty. Of course, there were many others but these folk were the mainstays back then. 

And as Belfast and the North, contorted in political stand-offs, street violence, and finger-pointing, the arts organisations in Belfast were showing citizens what they had missed over all the darker days. Music, visual arts, theatre, street spectacle, festivals, ideas, poetry, film - it was all happening within communities not previously known for their artistic prowess perhaps. New Belfast wasn’t just a community arts organisation - it was now a tangible shift that everyone in the city could begin to feel. 

I had been assisting Joe Sheehy, Geoff and Josh, and their new chair Joe McVey,  re-developing the basis of how a city-wide consortium could leverage greater creative and community benefits and with our success, I managed to secure the role of programme director and indeed, I’ve been privileged to hold that role (albeit the name has changed)  ever since. 

Births and deaths, birthdays and anniversaries. The world has so many cyclic turns and twists but still keeps on spinning. 

And in the 25 years, New Belfast became Community Arts Partnership, after the merger with the CAF back in 2011, there have of course been many births - of people who would grow up to enjoy making poetry or art in their school or community centre, but also of programmes and projects, ideas and organisations. All creating new connections as the tissues and fibres of Belfast’s broken bones and Northern Ireland’s divided communities started to knit and heal. 

And of course, over that time , there were great losses too. 

If the larger than life Terri Hooley is the Godfather of Punk (a monicker he refutes while grinning broadly … One Love Terri me ol’ mucker) then Geoff Harden was Godfather of Folk. Sadly, Geoff left us in 2006 - but we have a Music Studio named after him (and a special donor from years ago) to remember him - Harden-Nie Studio in the ARC (arts resource centre) in Cathedral Quarter. 

Olivia Butler, who ran the Poetry in Motion Schools programme. Anne Quail, who supported every visual arts project that the organisation ever did, right up until her passing in 2023; Ash Reynolds, a powerhouse of positivity and generosity, who forged a creative community around her own terminal illness in 2020. And dear Tracey Crossan (nee McVerry), the effervescent smiler who supported and co-ordinated so many projects over the last 25 years with us, and whom we sadly lost only a few short months ago. And my dear colleague , Marilyn Hyndman, just a few short years ago. 

But we gained so many friends and comrades from hundreds of organisations, clubs, groups and places along the way, who have stood shoulder to shoulder with us. Friends who continue to make a creative impact here - like : 

Patrons and Trustees: Martin Lynch, Joe McVey, Trish O’Kane Eileen Branagh, Darren Ferguson, Patricia Cooke, John Dean, Heather Floyd, Helen Forsythe, Pauline Hadaway, Kate Ingram, Leeann Kelly, James Kerr, Nathan Kripz, Bridget Lindsay, Deirdre Mackel, Frank McGlone, Joan Dempster (nee Montgomery), George Newell, Katrina Newell, Gavin O’Connor, Deirdre Robb, Janice Smith, Syd Trotter, Lesley Wilson - who all ensured the governance was there to continue our workover all the years. 

Colleagues, artists, producers, mentees and friends:

Francesca Biondi, Patricia Lavery (Crossey), Chelley McLear (who tragically lost her son, the youngest ever winner of the New Belfast Poetry Slam, beating a roomful of adults to the prize), Ken Armstong, Julie Anne Graham, Gabri Gomez Fernandez, Joanne Hamilton (nee Barnett), Wendy Blemings, Sheelagh Colclough, Deirdre McKenna, Colleen Coyle, Jennifer Trouton, Seamus Heaney (RIP), Frank Holmes, Jim McKevitt (RIP), Michael Baker (RIP), Fra Gunn (YNWA), Cora Wong, Alacoque Davey, Anu Sundaralingam, Sinead Morrissey, Jani Melia, Dr. Damien Mills, Tracey Gallogly, Michael McNulty, John Baucher, Louise Boylan, Keith Connolly, Mark Madden, Ciara Diamond Le Velly, Grainne Kielty, Jane Lavery, Medbh McGuckian, Aidan Molloy, Claire Concannon, Lucy Turner, Jane Grace, Gary McFeeter (RIP), Brian Bailey (RIP), Susan Millar, Fiona Ni Mhaoilir, Natasha Cuddington, Adrian Rice, Matthew Rice, Jim Johnston, Tony Walsh (Longfellow), Teresa Kane, T McMeekin, Therese Gorman, Gwen Stevenson, Caroline Shimmons, Julie McGowan, Suzii MacKenzie, Sue Steging, Stuart Sloan, Stephen Sexton, Dr Stephanie Conn, Dr Shelley Tracey, Stephen Biggie Bigmore, Stacey Burke, Sean McKernan, John Duncan, A Bernot, A Burnt, A Cuperus, A Davey, A Doherty, A Donnelly, A Hill, A J Callaghan, A Liesching, Anne M MCManus, Ali Mackenzie, A McCullough, Amira McDonagh, Anne McKay, Anne McManus, A Milligan, Ann Quail, Ash Reynolds, Adrian Rice, A S Khan, A Sharma, Anu Sundaralingam, Aaron Bell, Aaron Cleary, Abby Oliveira, Adam Turkington, Adam Warren, Adeline Henry, Agnes Mullan, Aidan Molloy, Aidan Mulholland, Aislinn Hagan, Alberto Clerencia Ortega, Ali Fell, Alice Pasquini, Alice Quigley, Alison Boyd, Alison Coulter, Amanda Finch, Amber Gilmore-Quail, Andrew Tinney, Andy Council, Aneta Murawska, Angela George, Angeline King, Ann McCall, Anna O'Kane, Annatomix, Anne-Marie Mullan, Anne Marie Taggart, Anne McCann, Anne McMaster, Anne O'Kane, Ann Quail, Arlene Marks, Armita R Shanbhogue, Christine Boyle, Astrid Conville, Ben Allen, Brian Bailey (RIP), B Cullen, B Hamill, B I McMichael, Brenda Liddy, Bobbi Rae Purdy, Brendan Quinn, B Smyth, Benen Dillon, Bernie McGill, Beth McComish, Bill Gilmore, Blaze FX, Bob Rainey, Brenda Graham, Brendan Murtagh, Brendan Popplestone, Brian Byrne, Brian J Hennessey, Brian McFeely, Briege McClean, Bruce White, C Agee, C Bonner, C Bowman, , C Brogan, C Brown, C Collins, Claire Concannon, Colleen Coyle, C Devenny, Ciara Diamond Le Velly, C Eardley, C Graham, C Hunter, Caroline Jeffrey, C Kelly, C Lynch, C McCausland, C McDonnell, C McKeown, C McLaughlin, Clare McWilliams, C Moore, C Morrow, C Mullan, C Murphy, Cara O'Donnell, Ciara O'Malley, C Palmer, C Sloan, Cathy Surgeoner, Calvin Goodgame, Caroline McCusker, Caroline Shimmons, Charmaine McMeekin, Charo Lanao-Madden, Christina Angelina, Ciara Campbell, Claire Harkin, Clare Lawson, Clare Mc Comish, Clare Mc Williams, Clinton Kirkpatrick, Clodagh Lavelle, Colin Ash, Colin Dardis, Colin Davidson, Colin Hassard, Colin McGookin, Colin Reid, Consuela Ortiz, Cyril Kelly, D Bonner, D Cathbertson, D Caulfield, D Docherty, D Eggs, D Ennis, D Fowler, Dennis Greig, D Harper, Diane Henshaw, Dave Holden, Deirdre Madden, Deirdre McKenna, Deirdre McManus, D McMurray, D McNally, D Mooney, D Piekaar, D Smith, D Whyte, Daniel Kitchener, Darren Ferguson, Dave Lordan, David Allen, David Cunningham, David Smylie, Dawn Aston, Dean Kane, Debbie Young, Deirdre Alexander, Deirdre Cartmill, Denise Blake, Denzil Browne, Dermot McConaghy, Des Kennedy, Diane Henshaw, Diane Jardel, Diane McCormick, Diane Miller, Diane Morrison, Diane Wilson, Dianne Grimason, Dominic S Berry, Dr Josie Nugent, Dr R Huq, Dylan Quinn, Dympna Curran, Eddie Bannon, E Brown, E Burns, Ed Carroll, E Cartin, E Creen, Elaine Gaston, E Gornall, E Haden, Eamonn Keena, Eileen Branagh, Eiogen Fund, Elaine Duncan, Elaine Liyounssi, Ellen Factor, Ellie Perrin, Emily McDonagh, Emma Hawthorne, Emma Louise Hutchinson, Emma Must, Emma Whitehead, Eoin McGinn, Erika Reid, Esther O’Kelly, Eva F Roa Flores, Eve Williams, Frankie Quinn, F Sweeney, Filippa Seilern Aspang, Fionnuala Duffin, Fionnuala McNicholl, Frank Ormsby, Frank Rafferty, Freya Seren, G Carragher, Geraldine Cooper, Graham Day (RIP), G Gallagher, Grainne Kelly, Geroid MacLochlainn, G Makamanei, Gary McFeeter, Gary McKeever, G McKeown, Gerri Moriarty, Gemma Murray, G Reid, G Rosborough, Gerrard Stratton, Grace Wilder, Gabriel Gomez Fernandez, Gamel Neequaye Dsane Dreph, Gareth Moore, Gavin Ferris, Genevieve Murphy, Gerry Fell, Glen Molloy, Grace McGreevy, Graham Watson, Gus Moore, Gwen Stevenson, H Coppard, H Doherty, Heather Floyd, H Kiani Rad, H McQuaid, Helen Midgley, H Porter, H Reid, Helen Walshaw, Hazel Busby, Heather Douglas, Helena Stuart, Henry Joy, Henry Lo, Ian Fleming, Ivan Frew, Imelda Truesdale, Iolanda Rocha, J A Lynas, J Armstrong, Jane Bailey, J Berry, Jean Bleakney, J Bradbury, J Denton-McComish, J Doran, Jo Egan, J Elliott, J Fairley, J Farrelly, J Fisher, J Fursman, J Healy, J Kelly, J Maher, J McConnell, J McCormick, J McEwen, J McGowan, John McGuckian, J McKeown, J McMenamin, J McVityy, J Owens, Janet Shepperson, J Steadman, J Tiernan, J Tsang, Jacque McNeill, James Curran, James Earley, James Louis Michel, James Micallef Grimaud, Jan Carson, Jasper McKinney, Jennifer Goddard, Jennifer Heron, Jessica Tobin, Jim McCabe, Jim McElroy, Jim McKevitt, Jim Russell, Lowry Grant, Jo Hatty, Jo Prinsen, Joe Doyle, Joe Nawaz, John Brown, John Carden, John Gray, John Mc Gurgan, John Trotter, John Walls, Jon Farrelly, Jonathan Glyde-Bates, Jonathan Hicks, Jonathan McKerr, Jonathan Ryder, Jonathon Kelly, Jordan McCuaig, Jude Fenton, Jude Young, Judith Lunn, Julia Lyn Heatley, Julia Lyn Waters, Julianne Skillen, Julie Pickering, Juliet Turner, Julius Anakaa, K Andrews, K Driscoll, K Duggan, K Ennals, K Flanagan, Ken Haddock, K Hunter, K Kiely, Katherine Kingham, Kanthy Marsh, K McCracken, Kirsty McGuinness, K McMullan, K Plummer, K Quail, K Quigley, K Somasundram, K Stewart, Karin Eyben, Kat St. Angelo, Kate Guelke, Katherine Rupit, Katrina Newell, Katrina Sheena Smyth, Katy Chambers, Kayla Rush, Kayleigh Doughty, Kelly Creighton, Kev Largey, Killian Redmond, L Chung, Lucy Cochrane, Lizzie Devlin, L Fitzsimons, L Graham, L Hanna, L Harrington, Linda Hutchinson, L Magill, Leonie McDonagh, L Schenk, L Stewart, L Taggart, Lucy Turner, Larry Cowan, Laura Nelson, Lauren Martin, Martin Crawford, Leah O'Neill, Leeane Kelly, Lenka Davidkova, Lesley Wilson, Linda McKenna, Lisa Murphy, Lucas Dillon, Lucie Corcoran, Lynda Tavakoli, Lyndsay McVeigh, Lynne Edgar, M Callan, Miriam De Burca, Moyra Donaldson, Peggy Fisher, M Freeman, Michelle Gallen, Michael Hart, M J Reid, M Johnston, Charo Lanao-Madden, Michael MacBroom, Mark Madden, M McCann, M McClure, M Molloy, Mike Moloney, Martin Mooney, Marian Noone (Friz), M Rankin, M Rogers, M Smith, M Smyth, Michelle Wooderson, Mahsa Jahangirpour, Margaret McClean, Maria Teresa Ruiz Cala, Marian Noone, Marie-Loiuse Muir, Marie-Louise McClarey, Marion Clarke, Mark Allsop, Mark Clane, Marta Burgell Alegre, Martelle McPartland, MARTIN CAULEY, Mary Cowan, Mary Jane Jacob, Mathieu Decodts, Matt Faris, Matthew Castleton, Matthew Rice, Matthew Vernon, Maureen Boyle, Mayte Ruiz, Mayte Segura,  Mel Bradley, Melinda Ashley Meyer, Michael Bass, Michael Connolly, Michael Monaghan, Michael Smith, Michael Wilson, Michelle Garvey, Miriam Coulter, Morag Donald, Myra Zeph, Ned Jackson, N Arbuthnott, N Armstrong, N Burrowes, Niamh Larkin, N McCauley, N McGrath, N McMillen, N Salih, Nisha Tandon, N Walker, N Woods, Nandipha Jola, Naomi Reid, Natalie Smyth, Natasha Duddy, Nathan Elout-Armstrong, Neal Walker, Neil Decodts, Mattieu Decodts, Niamh Meehan, Nikki Fisher, Nikolay Ivanov, Noel Murphy, Nuala Convery, Olive Broderick, O Hughes, O Murphy, Olga McCrossan, Omar El Masri, Orlaith Cullinane, Paul McMordie, Owen Crawford, P Cunninghan, P Hamill, P Harte, P Johnston, P Lappin, Paul Maddern, P Matthew, P McEneaney, P Meehan, P Milligan, P O'Tuama, Peter Stewart, P Watson, Peter Wilson (Duke Special), Pamela Brown, Patricia Campbell, Patrick Sanders (RIP), Paul Hutchinson, Paul J. Ryding, Paul Kane, Paul  McCrory, Paula Rodriguez Dono, Peter Bleakley, Peter E Davidson, Peter White, Phil Nicholls, Mike Moloney, R A Smyth, R Barnett, Ruth Carr, R Cordiner, R Cowley, Rene Greig, R Hussain, R Jaquarello, R Jenkinson, Rachel McCabe, R McCann, R McCullogh, R McGrath, Dr Robbie McVeigh, Robbie Meredith, Ruth Moore, R Naresh, R O'Neill, Ryan O'Reilly, R S MORROW, R Scott, R Skelly, R Walsh, R Watson, R Whyte, Rachael Campbell-Palmer, Rachael Lindsay, Raquel McKee, Richard Campbell, Rita Harkin, Rob Hilken, Robert Hargrove, Roisin Murphy, Roof Repairs, Rory Jones, Rory O'Loughlin, Rosalind Lowry, Ross Thompson, Ruth Boyd, S Bamford, S Barr, Stephen Beggs, Sheena Bleakney, Sheelagh Colclough, S Davies, Sean Fox, S Kerr, S Lewis, S MacAindresea, S McCaffrey, S Millar, S Mitchell, S Morrissey, S Mullan, Stevie Noonan, Sinaead O'Donnell, S O'Neill, S Orr, S Quigley, S Rea, S Safiruddin, S Scott, Shannon Sickels, S Somasundram, S Thompson, Sam Walklett, Steven Watson, Sam Le Bas, Samuel Bates, Samuel McLaren, Sandra Robinson, Sara-Jane Arbury, Seamus Heaney (RIP), Sean Duncan, Sean McCann, Sean McKernan, Seonaid Murray, Sharron Currie, Shea Ross, Sheela Ashburn, Shelley Tracey, Siemens Fin Services, Simon Guyennet, Simon Mills, Sinead Quinn, Skye Bompas, Slaine Browne, Stacey Burke, Stephanie Heckman, Stephen Fagan, Stephen Hayles, Stephen Pritchard, Stephen Sexton, Steven Hadley, Sue Steging, Tanya Askin, T Atkinson, Tracey Doak, T McMaster, T McMeekin, T Owens, Tammy Moore, Tamsin Sharp, Teresa Kane, Tessa Greer, Thomas Manley, Thomas Moreland, Tom Bingle, Tom Cunningham, Tomas Finnegan, Tracey Atkinson, Ursula Burke, Victoria Barkley, V Flores, Verity Peet, Victoria Campbell, Wilson Magwere, Wiiliam Frode de la Foret, William Mitchell, Walter Graham, Wendy Sinnamon, Wilma Kenny, Wendy Robinson, Y Tsang, Yvonne Boyle, Zhenia Mahdi-Lau

Thank you for the wonderful work in a glorious range of settings: - in committee rooms, at rallies, on marches, on projects in every conceivable setting like gazebos in a gale, backrooms of pubs, subways, dilapidated factories, on buses, synagogues, nightclubs, shopping centres, boats, detention centres, doctors surgeries, trains, chapels, cinemas and greenhouses. Of course, there were all the community centres, schools, church halls and nursing homes, never mind the Ulster Halls, Waterfront, Playhouse, Grand Opera House. 

Our collective thanks to each and every one of the artists, facilitators, community activists and leaders, enablers, workers and the 1,000s of volunteers who have made the journey possible. 

And of course the funders. I pay tribute to their continuing support, guidance and assistance: 

• To our principal funder, the Arts Council of Northern Ireland and their generous support since 2003 and their ceo, the redoubtable Roisin McDonough, who started work in the arts sector almost 25 years ago too 

• Belfast City Council

• Belfast European Partnership (Later Belfast Local Strategy Partnership, then SEUPB)

• DCAL

• DFC

• The Executive Office

• Community relations Council

• Enkalon Foundation

• Esmee Fairbairn

• Dept of Foreign Affairs (RoI)

• Creative Ireland

• Hope for Youth

• Joseph Rowntree Trust

• Belfast Education and Library Board (now Education Authority)

• BBC Children In Need

• Laganside Corp

• Ortus

• Better Belfast

• Lloyds Foundation

• Building Change Trust

• Community Foundation

• NICVA

• Each and every NI district council, before and after council reorganisations

• The National Gallery

• The National Trust

• Clanmil Housing

• Habinteg Housing

• Radius Housing

• Rural Housing Association

• Public Health Authority

• Northern Health and Social Care Trust

• Belfast Health and Social Care Trust

• Southern Health and Social Care Trust

• South Eastern Health and Social Care Trust

In total, CAP has supported over 110,000 active participants , 2,500+ volunteers, 

• Over 3,000 community group projects and 1,125 schools programmes

• Over 600 artists and creative producers received over 4,850 artistic assignments, never mind the countless arts, media, and supplies companies that have supported us and whom we’ve supported in turn 

• Over 250,000 news items of our websites

• 52 poetry anthologies

• 11 years of the Seamus Heaney Awards,

• 6 other publications

• 4 large scale public sculptures 

• 17 public consultation responses

• 1 arts funding campaign (ArtsMatterNI) 

And thank you today, to the current trustees and staff cohort who enable this organisation to keep moving forward: 

Sean McCann, Karen MacFarlane, Philip Campbell, 

Josh Schultz, Heather Douglas, Gordon Hewitt, Sally Young, Steven Tunley, Carole Kane

All these folk, these institutions and so many more people within them, provide our momentum and have given Community Arts Partnership the foundation to keep moving ahead and forging new opportunities to connect community and creativity for the decades ahead. 

Of course, there is a multitude of others to thank and a legion that took the strain - not least my wife and my kids. 

To all of you, each and every one, I thank you for the last 25 years as we look forward to a bright, inclusive and creative future for Community Arts Partnership and all our partners, friends, associates, and hosts. 

All the best for 2025

Conor Shields, ceo. 

If I've left anyone out, my sincere apologies but 25 years is a long time!!

You can read in depth the story of the foundation of New Belfast Community Arts Initiative and Community Arts Partnership in "A Coming of Age" available from CAP to purchase.