Rooted in County Durham’s past, yet looking to its future, Strike Collective is seeking to reshape our communities through the power of creativity. Still in its first year, Strike has grown to embrace the work of 21 women from across the region, bringing mutual support and injecting a vital shot of adrenaline into the county’s cultural life.
Along the way, Strike is re-examining the region’s heritage – and is not afraid to take on old stereotypes of heavy industry with only sport and brown ale for light relief.
It starts from the name. “Strike” references the 40th anniversary of the 1984/5 miners’ strike, a turning point for industry in the northeast. But it also ties into the oft-overlooked role of women in those mining communities during the year-long battle between Britain’s coalfields and the Conservative government of the day.
“Our name, Strike, is part of where we’re from,” said Hazel Oakes, who set up the collective. “We had lots of ideas, but we found this resonated with most of us. And part of that was the way we felt a strong presence of the women who ran the soup kitchens during the miners’ strike.”
At the start of the year, with 40th anniversary events starting across the old coalfield, this was much in people’s minds. Hazel, who works as Nocciola the Drawer, had been involved in a project with National Women Against Pit Closures (NWAPC) at their pop-up shop in Durham in the weeks before Strike’s first action. And the next big Strike project, led by artist, printmaker and ‘creative explorer’ Sarah Calavera, revisits that seam as the collective reunites with NWAPC at Beamish Museum.
That’s all part of placing women more prominently in the northeast narrative – both now and in the past. “I think this drives quite a few of us,” Hazel said. “Male working labour is very visible in the sculptures, in the artwork we see in public. We want to use these spaces to show that women are here too, that we’ve always been here even if the stories that are told do not always reflect that. That’s part of our ferocity and drive.”
‘There’s so much joy in it, this just makes me happy’
For Strike’s members, it’s also about community. Many creatives are sole traders, working in relative isolation. Lizzie Lovejoy, a poet, performer and picture maker in Newton Aycliffe, values the flow of conversation and the chance for constructive advice.
“It also offers different perspectives,” Lizzie added. “Seeing how other people create and applying that to your own practice, it helps to enrich everyone’s individual creative practices.”
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, there’s great satisfaction. “It just makes me happy,” Lizzie added. “The exhibition we recently had came with a very clear cultural-political message about ‘what are we all making a noise about?’ We all had a chance to create and raise our placards, we all had an opportunity to get involved, many of us met up for the first time.
“There was so much joy in it, being able to declare who you are. It just makes me happy.”
Setting up a shindig
That early Strike project is still on display outside Durham University’s Bill Bryson Library, with billboards sharing members’ creative manifestos. On Monday, Oct. 14, the group is revisiting that exhibition with the first Strike Shindig, a chance for the wider public to meet with members of the team, share ideas and find out more about what it’s all about.
“We didn’t have a proper launch, but now we’ve had some interest and we’re thinking about where we’re going next. We want to invite people to come to the exhibition and join us afterwards,” Hazel said.
“The original exhibition was about us sharing our messages to the world and we want to encourage more people to share their voices. It’s a chance to see what other people want, whether they want to be part of the collective and find a way to expand the membership, or whether people are more interested in having us share our skills with them.
“One-on-one time with people, hearing about what they think and what they see, also inspires our creativity.”
Strike one
Although Strike officially began on March 8, 2024, marking International Women’s Day with a mural project in Spennymoor, its roots lie deeper. Hazel was very involved in County Durham’s bid to become the UK’s 2025 City of Culture. Although that prize eventually went to Bradford, the ambitious Durham established connections throughout the creative community.
“We didn’t get City of Culture, but it changed things,” Hazel reflected. “Before that, there wasn’t really any way to network and for the first time it felt like there was a creative community. And it wasn’t just gravitating towards the artists, there was more to it. Things like that spark ideas.
“Maybe we didn’t know it at the time, but it feels like it lit a fire under everyone to put things into action, and to believe that we could do it ourselves.”
Durham was on the final shortlist and that momentum remained. “It was a spur for people to shout about what we do. Even if it couldn’t carry on from the same organisation, everybody had enough within themselves to carry on.”
‘Too often, people ask why. We’re asking why not?’
One of Strike’s strengths is the breadth of creativity it encompasses. As well as traditional disciplines – from painting to poetry – there’s room for creative small business, such as Periwinkle Barn, a Kelloe-based florist committed to sustainable, locally-grown bouquets. Another striking contribution comes from Dead Good, sisters Lindsey and Katy Vigurs in Ryhope, who offer creative and sensitive responses to the difficult questions of commemorating death and celebrating life.
The common threads are community and creativity, the overriding aim to encourage. Hazel hopes that the collective pushes people to put more into their creative lives.
“It’s that thing of seeing other people do it and thinking ‘why can’t I?’ Too often in your own bubble, people ask why you’re doing it. We’re asking why not?” Hazel said. “My aim is to uplift, inspire and empower people and that was my starting point for Strike.
“Now it’s gaining its own legs. Within the collective, and even from people outside who see our work, we’re hearing that people are empowered to take up things they hadn’t done before, to go after what they wanted when before they felt like there wasn’t they ‘oomph’ behind them.
“Knowing that the collective was supporting them, even in their own projects, not just in collective projects, seeing that support was here and we believed in what they did helps people to go forward in their own practice.”
‘It plants seeds, it gives ideas’
And creative practice, on a personal or regional level, remains vital. While sceptics dismiss it as “just a bit of fun” the reality is that creativity is a fundamental part of the human experience.
“I think lockdown really showed that this is how we feel, how we get through things,” Hazel said. “It’s part of who we are as humans, and we should use it. Anyone can do it. It’s practice, that’s why we talk about creative practice. Even in the past, when people were still working down the mines, people were still making their own clothes. There was a lot of creativity in how people lived, even if it wasn’t being a full-time artist. But a lot of people stop using their creativity and I think that’s a shame.
“Creativity opens up questions and ideas, it starts conversations that people maybe haven’t had for a long time. That’s how it gives back. It’s not necessarily a capitalist thing that you can put on a balance sheet, it’s a longer process. It plants seeds in people, it gives them ideas. To start a business, to be an entrepreneur, that needs creative thinking, creative solutions. Art is one way to bring creativity to people and that creativity has lots of different aspects that can get overlooked.”