In order to encourage discussion between creative researchers, we experimented with dialogue as a method as one possible format of co-writing. During the discussion, we continuously moved between the individual level and the collective and then back to individual practices.⁸ Dialogue allows us to reach new meanings in thinking together, it assumes a readiness to openly explore different viewpoints, ideas, beliefs, preconceptions and perspectives.⁹ Experiencing co-writing and co-reading, we experience the principles of dialogue: being present, reflecting, referencing, multiplicity, miscommunication and talking over one another, while being mutually supportive. Open questions are the most suitable for picking apart the nuances of the creative process. First, we agreed on the framework of topics that interest us and in discussion we formulated these into a series of questions we answered in a non-linear way. We used the same questions to structure the dialogue but, in that process, did not interrupt each other’s replies. When it comes to introduction, methods and conclusion, we had an oral dialogue, the outcome of which we wrote down. Each practitioner chose visuals of their work themselves, taking into account that the images should be in dialogue with the images from the other practitioners. But the visual dialogue was in part created by chance. As the following step, we read and gave feedback to one another’s texts and based on the feedback, we changed our replies to create a more coherent text. While reading, the reader, too, enters the dialogue, thus adding their own meanings.

For you, what is a good balance between the process and the end product, where do you place the emphasis in your practice? 

Kadri Liis Rääk: I approach both the process as well as the end product with a similar intensity. My practice is centred around manipulation and the combination of different materials to create spatial artworks that can be perceived by other bodies. Here, it is important to highlight the core of my creative process in which I do not focus so much on the aesthetics of objects but rather on the mental and sensorial space, being in physical contact with the object I’ve made. That is why I cannot distinguish between my research, the creative process and the “end-product”.

Eva Liisa Kubinyi: My co-creational design practice focuses on highlighting the invisible process; that is, the process and the realisations enabled by it become the “end-product”. In social innovation, it is important to bring together stakeholders in the process, who do not mix in their everyday work, such as from the family medical centre and youth centre located in the Väike-Õismäe district in Tallinn, for example.¹⁰ Directing our attention to creating relationships above all creates a fertile ground for reconsidering everyday practices.

Marta Konovalov: In my practice, objects are in constant development, being somewhere between something and nothing. I add new layers of mending between different times the items are worn, and by organising workshops, I invite others to do the same. In addition to stories that accompany the process or wear, I try to create meaning for the layers of mending. So, the emphasis shifts from the result to the relationship and the person becomes a participant instead of being a consumer. There is no particular moment where the items are “finished”. At the same time, it is important to note the intermediate stages that would help with experiencing success within the process.

In what capacity, what and to what extent do you think it is still meaningful to create something in a society, where things and services are in abundance, yet artists and designers are still expected to create something new and with quantifiable impact?

Jane Remm: I think it is important to find and create meanings for what already exists. Different people find meaning in different moments and things – the closer and more in-depth you look, the more meanings you notice. Kalevi Kull has argued that semiosis as an interpretation process is the primary source of the aesthetic, leading towards semiotic fitting or perfection.¹² The more connections are made, the more meaningful and thus more beautiful a thing or situation becomes. I have experienced that the less impactful factors there are in an environment, the more attention there is to be directed towards more modest actors and connections. And so, things that many deem ordinary become special, such as a blackbird flicking their tail or a mosquito’s bite. I see my role as an artist in the ability to highlight meaningfulness in ordinary things. However, I do feel the pressure to innovate and it often bothers me.

Marta Konovalov: The layers added to garments may technically not be anything innovative, and as a mode of making, it is rather a rediscovering of the old. What is innovative and novel here, is the context of regenerative textile design, and mending, reflection and its meanings. There is a lot of creating in mending activities but no additional things are produced. What does increase, though, is the emotional connection to the item.¹³ In addition to creating mended layers, I find it really important to create an environment where other people are also involved in creating and would be able to continue these activities independently (Image 1). The emphasis is placed on mending as a mode of making and disseminating this way of thinking. I value the discussions and the knowledge we share as well as the empowering quality of co-creation and the shift in aesthetics and understandings to be more important than the number of garments mended during workshops. Sewing and mending by hand is a slow process and there is no point in counting the number of mended items but rather taking note of all the resources we don’t spend when we slow down. Jane and I have had a similar discussion about the garden as context: what kind of bad choices will not be made when we put our time and physical effort towards time-consuming activities.

Eva Liisa Kubinyi: When it comes to a participatory process in design, the task of a creative researcher is to listen to diverse and even oppositional groups to find ways to understand each other and use creative methods to bridge the gaps. And so, designers specialising in co-creation make tools, methods and methodologies to increase the interval of meetings and the likelihood of future meetings instead of new products and services. For example, in collaboration with the Türi Family and Youth Centre, we are activating the current network of collaboration together with the municipality, the police, child protection services and many others, as well as having conversations about shared responsibility using creative assignments.

Kadri Liis Rääk: We are multisensory, social and dynamic creatures and I think that a future-oriented creative practice needs to constantly address the different ways we physically engage with the world. When I say embodiment I mean the understanding that our body is the central vessel of human consciousness and being, through which we experience and understand the world. We experience, sense and understand the world through physically relating to our surroundings. The objects that materialise through the creative process are like tools we can use to experiment with various ways of relating to objects, other people, as well as the surroundings. Active physical contact allows for spaces that facilitate shared, intimate and multisensory relations (Image 2).

What do you think, is non-production (in art and design) even possible and what does it mean in your practice?

Eva Liisa Kubinyi: When you work as a designer, it is almost always expected of you that you produce a product or a service. It is more difficult to find funding for process-focused projects. It is also more difficult to recruit people into open-ended research and there is a requirement for constant reflection on expectations and hopes. However, the complexity of the process does not deter me as a researcher and within the framework of existing means, I try to conduct participatory processes. The complexity forces me to be more innovative.

Kadri Liis Rääk: That’s always a complicated topic – finding balance between the expectations of commissioners or galleries, financial means and personal desires. In my case, sketching, writing, taking photographs as well as meaningful and focused movement could also be considered producing something, although these are not works in a traditional sense but rather processes of creating knowledge. This process is often ephemeral, auto-ethnographic and extremely physical. I approach the objects I create as tools for thinking, not as finished design objects or prototypes. Although during my research I also make various tactile objects that can be sold but are not specifically made for that.

Jane Remm: That is a good question – is making art the prerequisite of being an artist or does the social role of an artist still function without making art? By this, I consider concepts or meanings also as creating something. People’s first impression is that you can only call someone who makes something a maker, I mean, an artist is someone who makes art. So, the most important question is how to make art. How to make less of it but with more depth and meaning both for yourself and others. In my practice I experiment with recontextualising inclusive educational activities as a part of creative research, with the mode of positive activism, and with the understanding of garden as a tool for art and artistic research.

Marta Konovalov: I struggled with the question of non-production most during my MA studies and as an academic supervisor, and I have also seen many of my students go through the same thing. That is the background to my creative research, ending up being focused on making by hand and mending that allows for an active creative approach, while not making any new products. Design researcher and curator Sandra Nuut has also said that ‘Today’s environmental and social crises have made designers and design schools sensitive and they are questioning whether new products even need to be made’.¹⁴ Even though I do not make new things, I still produce data and value.

When non-production allows for including various stakeholders and for a more horizontal approach, how can we make the process of creating meaningful for many?

Eva Liisa Kubinyi: Inevitably, in every inclusion-focused project, there are individuals who refuse to cooperate or lose interest in the theme. The very basis of inclusion is always a certain openness and readiness for dialogue. Without these, co-creating does not happen. However, during the process, the dignity and human rights of the excluded parties must be ensured, the selected methods must be diverse and the possibilities for feedback after the project concludes must also be provided. No “product or service” should be fully finished during a project.

Kadri Liis Rääk: I find that letting the tacit knowledge surface during creative processes may be meaningful for many, perhaps providing others with tools to reflect and verbalise their processes as well. A large part of my creative process has become part of my embodied memory through countless hours of working. The flow of creation is largely intuitive rather than scientific, I let processes carry me. As a researcher, I feel that metaphorical thinking that sees research as a journey gives me enough freedom to address questions with unclear borders and areas where ideas and connections have not yet fully formed. But without wandering in this fog and blurriness, I would not reach new knowledge. As a creative researcher, I see here a significant gap, where an in-depth approach and analysis of various creative stages could provide relevant insight and tools for thinking also for others in understanding the mutual relationship between materials and bodies.

Marta Konovalov: When I was working on the exhibition Narratives from Prolonged Engagements, I experimented with turning processes on their head. As a curator, I opened an exhibition that was far from ready on the opening day (Image 3). We invited the public and those who participated in the workshops to add their mending work to the exhibition. The exhibition developed as the result of a collaboration between artists and the public (Image 4). But co-creation meant more than just mending in the same space. Often, the same item was mended together in order to increase its emotional value. One family mended together three pairs of trousers they owned. Every time something is worn out and mended, a story about the joint journey of people and a garment is told.

Jane Remm: Here, we should specify which processes we have in mind. If we talk about making art in a broad sense, I think the meaning of art is revealed precisely in the process of making – in making sense of the world through making art. I experience this while making art myself and with my students – the development of focus, collaborating skills, courage to make decisions, owning up to your mistakes, finding creative solutions – these are the competences that develop by actually making not just merely observing. Through making, the process becomes meaningful to many people who are engaged in it. For example, together with children from Karula area in South-East Estonia we are creating an installation for Insects’ Area – giant plants. Since I did not know either how to make them, we started the journey together, everyone chose an indigenous plant, drew it and wrote about it, made a model and afterwards, we decided which plants we could make with the knowledge we currently have (Images 5 and 6). We thought and argued about it, chose material from the forest, divided tasks; who could not saw, drill, paint or grind, was able to play or rest – and so we worked in shifts in this way (Photos 7 and 8). This kind of inclusion works better in long-term collaboration groups, as it is easier to cover psychological basic needs like this¹⁵ and to grow together.

How do you see the idea of authorship in your (co-creation/co-production) process?

Eva Liisa Kubinyi: I think ideas created together have shared “authorship” between all parties. That means that ideas and thoughts that have come up during a co-creating process are free for all participants to develop further (with reference to the joint process, of course). As per the academic tradition, all researchers who are responsible for the result are listed as authors and in the acknowledgements, everyone and their role is made clear.

Kadri Liis Rääk: My creative practice has several stages. In creating my works and spaces, I consider my own embodied participation crucial – the works are created through my embodied sensibility, using the wingspan of my arms, my strength and skills. Still, the experiences or interior spaces that are created while touching these objects are created by the people experiencing them. When I create an object, I approach co-creation from the position of an artist and my interest in the process is above all directed towards myself as the maker, the space and the material. Although with my previous exhibition, Exopoiesis I showed my creative process to other people as well (exopoiesis – ‘exterior self-creating world’), only providing slight impulses or hints at what the experience should feel like (Image 11). In the end about 10 people were working to create that experience and each of them had a somewhat different idea of what the world could be like. In that sense, exo also meant branching out, reaching towards the ideas and skills of other people, working towards a common goal. Although I was the author and the initiator of this spacetime situation, that world was created by the mental and physical participation of all the participants, both the creators and those who experienced it.

Jane Remm: I have asked participants of projects if I can list them as co-creators. When it comes to humans, we can follow the scientific principle of attributing authorship to those who are willing to take responsibility for each part of the work. When it comes to non-human species, I have only listed as authors those who have played a significant role in the work. In any case, there are numerous contributors, many of whom I do not even manage to acknowledge. I try to make an effort and notice the contribution many have made – both humans and non-humans – to create a work or exhibition. Here, I don’t differentiate whether I compensate them monetarily or not. As an artist, I see my role as the initiator and the mediator of co-creation, so I am not the sole author. Also, each person who interprets the work adds their layer of meaning.

Marta Konovalov: When I supervise practical workshops, I consider myself the mediator and initiator of processes. When I mend, I add my own layers to items that are made and designed by someone else. Additionally, these garments have often already been mended by someone else. Some items and mends are anonymous, everyday things and acts. For these makers or authors it is often impossible for them to know of the process of co-creation.

What would be a natural way to pass on the creative torch?

Eva Liisa Kubinyi: In the early stages of research, the creative researcher has a more substantial role in arranging meetings and choosing methods. From that point on, however, a few steps must be taken back to give time for other participants to sprout their ideas. For example, there was a co-creational workshop we concluded through planning an experiment (Images 9 and 10) where the participants could conduct themselves using the possibilities they have today.

Marta Konovalov: Just as I share knowledge and technical skills during practical workshops, I would like to share ideas as easily. Sometimes I succeed and it is an immense pleasure to see someone else add their own layers to what was shared. In order for that to happen, the idea has to be mature enough and capable of bearing these extra layers. Although, through sharing half-finished processes, I have learned to pass the torch on in a way that I could also still have it in my hand.

Kadri Liis Rääk: For a long time, I have wondered, what would change in my research if I would create the works together with other people, how would the relationship to objects change. If I were to use the workshop format and in some ways let go of my tightly held position as the author, the outcome would most likely be different. In that case, I would need to phrase my research focus differently. For me, it is unclear how co-creation would help with collecting information that would offer the kind of information about the relationship between people, objects and spaces that would be most relevant to my research. I definitely need to experiment with passing the torch in this way, as it may be possible that I receive input that I could never figure out myself. I need to give up control on my part, so that the knowledge of others could surface.

Jane Remm: As an artist, I see myself as the initiator of co-creation. Letting go of control is not easy, especially when it seems you have invented something special. But it is truly enjoyable when someone else takes the lead. In interspecies co-creation, it is often the case that at first, having someone else take the lead is not pleasant, for example, when you have mice invading a house and eating soap. That produces a strong reaction, which makes us view the situation with humour and creativity and acknowledge they have indeed taken the lead.

How can we start a dialogue with ourselves and others? 

Eva Liisa Kubinyi: Making mutual agreements (like respectful communication, openness, acknowledging the uncomfortable) at the beginning of a co-creational workshop contributes to creating an environment based on dialogue. Constant reflection and open questions¹⁶ direct people to seek answers from themselves and their companions.

Jane Remm: When it comes to interspecies collaboration, the main question is how to make space for the voices of other species and entities in addition to imagining their perspectives. How can we create conditions, where they could be equal partners in dialogue and co-creation? You need to know their physiology and the particularities of their Umwelten. An attitude open to dialogue, valuing the multiplicity of voices and decreasing your own control are also important. What is the most exciting though, is how, as the initiator, you can create a composition that allows for multiple perspectives and voices from other species.¹⁷ This is a continuous process I explore in Interspecies Social Sculpture.

Marta Konovalov: Through openness, trust, interest.

Kadri Liis Rääk: Being in honest dialogue with yourself also requires openness and courage. Going deep into your personal perceptional modalities and layers of thought is quite complicated. In order to highlight and understand ideas and sensations belonging to other people’s personal sphere, I first need to sense in myself if and to what extent I am capable of formulating and sharing what hides in my own inner world. I find that experiencing my personal limits and vulnerability allows me to be more empathetic and open when in dialogue with others. That makes being in dialogue with other people easier.

How do you address the inevitable tension within yourself and between others?

Eva Liisa Kubinyi: Introspection, taking time for yourself and keeping a diary supports the release of tension that has accumulated in me. It is impossible to completely dissipate the opposing needs and ideas of participants. But it is possible to create an open space for the conflicting voices to be heard.

Jane Remm: Tensions are actually a great part of the process of research and creation if they lead to new solutions. It is often a critical question that makes you look at something from a different angle. With human co-authors, I try to be as open as possible when it comes to the goal, the nature of the process and inclusivity and also compensating their work financially, whenever possible. When people contribute as volunteers, I often feel I am indebted to them because they have put their time into the project, so I invest my time in preparatory work in order to have a meaningful meeting. To reduce tension in the group, it makes sense to make specific agreements and be a generous host: to offer food and drinks and create a supportive atmosphere. Making jokes always helps.

Marta Konovalov: A friend recently reminded me that tensions are inevitable, what matters is how we react to them. Sometimes seeing too many possibilities also sometimes creates tension in yourself and between people. Then you would seemingly need to react to everything. Here, the small steps I mentioned are very helpful to me, the intermediate finish lines within the process. Reacting to one thing at a time. An important tool for creative researchers – keeping a diary – has also become a tool for managing tension. Sometimes, these diaries become interwoven, just like the multiple roles of everyone here.

Kadri Liis Rääk: Internal tensions are something that I have not yet completely managed to solve myself. Maybe this is due to a certain incompatibility between the roles of an artist and a researcher. I work towards becoming more confident in my role as a creative researcher by setting more realistic goals and expectations for myself. Tensions can be alleviated also by getting away from work and spending more time in the forest, airing your sensory network out in the fresh air. When I feel I am not too stressed anymore, all other relationships and activities become less stressful.

How do you develop your practice further from here?

Eva Liisa Kubinyi: In my practice I hope to get to the point where I can analytically visualise participatory processes (Image 12), helping to increase its meaningfulness and financial backing and extend “production”. I also see the need to make design practices more systematic: approaches, methods and case studies. Positioning the practice within my field requires clearer communication, which, in turn, helps to avoid unnecessary confusion in the co-creation process.

Kadri Liis Rääk: Learning to become a creative researcher involves the focused exploration of various ways of working and creating knowledge. As an artist, I find that it reduces the pressure to constantly produce exhibitions, while also providing an opportunity to deeply engage with significant issues. I see potential in expanding the study of tactility and touch to include neurodivergent experiences, where sensations and reactions vary greatly in terms of sensitivity. To achieve this, I need to actively step out of my own perspective to incorporate the experiences of others.

Jane Remm: I would like to get to the point where I say and do little but with great meaning.

Marta Konovalov: I strive to see more opportunities for process in my practice but at times also for deliberately not-doing.