The Last Supper (part 2)

... interest from the media in the Last Supper was intense (it was on the BBC national news). I will post some of my images and video of the Last Supper later.

Around the table were Kane, a photographer (Joe Cornish), a curator (Jan Brown), a fisherman (Fred Normandale), a musician (John), the daughter of the previous owner of the house (Anne), a politician (Clare Short), artistic director of the SJT (Chris Monks), a writer priest and exorcist (GP Taylor), a businessman and gallery owner (Brian), the chef (James) and an archaeologist/artist (me)

I enjoyed the event. However I dont think that we addressed adequately the issue of living on the edge. We touched on issues of sustainability and climate change, but we didnt explore how Kane' s project both informs and forms part of the debate. There we were, sitting physically on the edge of the abyss. In that place, it became very obvious to me that we humans are a brief evolutionary intervention in the life of this planet. And that just as the space we ate in is set for destruction, so we as a species are set for extinction. On 23rd December 1956 there were 2.8 billion humans alive on this planet. At 6pm on the 20th March 2010, one estimate is that there would be 6,808,602,365 humans* alive on this planet. Their need for energy to provide decent living conditions is relentlessly driving anthropogenic climate change.

The debate did touch on some really vital issues. In particular the problems faced by the fishing industry were passionately explained by Fred Normandale. He argued that fish stocks are improving, that the scientific research is out of step with the real conditions in the North Sea, that the quota system means that tons of dead fish are dumped at sea, and that the limit of the number of days at sea is wrecking livelihoods and the future of the fleet in Scarborough. Clare questioned his evidence but there was agreement that the loss of the fishing industry would be devastating. Let us hope that fishing does not go the way of mining and steel; memory and "heritage".

Kane had covered one wall of the room with envelopes containing letters written by a class of 11 year olds. The letters were addressed to the house. Many had DO NOT OPEN written on them. There were lot that could be opened, and Kane gave each of us a letter to read out. Some of the letters were deeply moving. They appeared to address real events of loss in the lives of the children. Or were they all fiction; creative writing inspired by the idea that the house will fall into the sea? We debated this at some length.

And in no time at all the event was over.