Recovery Re:told was the first exhibition by People’s Recovery Project held at House of Annetta in East London in early October 2025. Including visual and performance artwork, this was the culmination and celebration of the community members strengths, talent, stories and the work of the charity. Afterwards, Performing Recovery’s Leon Clowes spoke to the organisers Alesh Compton and Jill Patterson to find out more.

Leon: Tell me about the venue you chose for the exhibition and why it felt right for this project.

Jill: We partnered with House of Annetta because it felt far less institutional than the usual conference or lecture spaces we see. It’s a creative, activist hub just off Brick Lane — a place people could show up and just be themselves. There was no requirement to tell your story unless you wanted to. Having the same space for weekly workshops helped people build routines and feel comfortable before the exhibition opened. We planned the show for four days but after it opened, we extended it to a full week.

Leon: Who took part in the project?

Jill: Everyone involved was in recovery, but at very different stages. We had people who had completed treatment and now volunteer or mentor others, and we also had participants still using, people thinking about stop/starting detox routes. Some had previous artistic practice. Sasha, for example, who already did a lot of art and now runs classes, but a lot of people had never engaged in creative work before. The workshops were deliberately open and non‑prescriptive so people could try different things and decide what stuck for them.

Alesh: It was important that we didn’t box people into expectations. Some weeks someone would turn up and say, “I never thought I’d do this,” and then they’d stay with it. The variety helped, and you never knew what would click.

Leon: What did the workshops actually involve?

Alesh: We ran eight sessions and brought in a range of creative practitioners and techniques: music, story‑making, writing and poetry, collage, drawing, printmaking and more. The idea was to give people a lot of different ways in. Trying lots of different things helped people discover quickly what they enjoyed.

Jill: We kept things open. We didn’t impose an outcome. That meant people who didn’t usually identify as artists felt safe to try things without feeling judged.

Leon: Any particular workshop moments that stood out?

Jill: The printmaking sessions were brilliant because they allowed writers and poets to put text and image together into one printed sheet — that combination was powerful for a lot of people.

Alesh: One moment that really stood out was when one of the participants designed a set of bespoke T-shirts, that completely sold out to the public over the coarse of the exhibition. Another member created beautiful signage for his wife’s new catering business, Lily’s Kitchen, named after their daughter. Moments like these felt important because they were tangible, immediate achievements. You could see how they could spark longer-term ideas and business plans, and the confidence boost they gave people was incredible.

Jill: We also had audio stories mapped to East London locations. Visitors could put on headphones and hear lived‑experience accounts tied to places like Liverpool Street. That local mapping added a really powerful resonance to the show.

Leon: How did people respond to the performance side of things?

Alesh: At first I was nervous. I’d not worked much with people in recovery in this way but I made a conscious decision to treat participants as artists first. That stance mattered. When you place people in the role of artist rather than patient or client, a lot of the self‑consciousness drops away. People got up and performed from the heart.

Jill: Yes, there were real moments of surprise and pride. People did “small victories” like trying a new medium, performing spoken word for the first time, or showing family members a piece of work they were proud of. For some, the exhibition opened up chances to rebuild relationships; people invited family and friends to the public show. That’s a meaningful step in recovery.

Leon: What did you learn, as organisers, from running this?

Alesh: My main learning was that treating the group as artists unlocked unique, powerful work. It’s not about therapy in the foreground; it’s about giving people the tools and trusting their creative instincts. Also, it’s okay to bring in lots of different practices — you don’t need to specialise straight away.

Jill: For the organisation, it showed that a lighter, creative route into recovery work can sit alongside more traditional preparation groups. The project had Arts Council support, and we hope to build on the momentum with a regular weekly creative offering from the new year. We’re planning more opportunities. There’s likely to be a performance event in April at a comedy venue that will be sober and fun, and we want to connect members with open mics, theatre groups and other community arts spaces.

Leon: How did you work together on the ground?

Jill: Alesh brought the artistic direction and a kind of mentoring. He’d interpret people’s ideas, source materials and help them realise projects. That made a big difference. He had a way of translating what people wanted to do into actual outcomes.

Alesh: I learned a lot about pacing, about how to scaffold a session so that someone new to creative work doesn’t feel overwhelmed. Also, you have to be flexible. People’s lives are complicated. We’d plan something and then someone couldn’t make it or something else would come up. The project needed to be tolerant of that.

Leon: Were there any moments that felt particularly transformative?

Jill: There were a lot of small but significant moments. Someone performing spoken word for the first time and getting a huge reaction. A person taking home a print and showing it to family. Things like that add up. In terms of the group, there was a collective energy in the room. People were encouraging one another, which is a recovery resource in itself.

Alesh: I remember one participant who was really nervous about doing anything creative. Over the weeks they returned, kept trying, and then on the final day they had something to show and were leading a conversation with visitors about it. That arc is exactly why we did this.

Leon: Any practical outputs from the exhibition people should know about?

Jill: We documented the exhibition through photographs, images of artworks and the audio‑location pieces. There were also tangible outcomes like the T‑shirts and the “Lily’s Kitchen” sign that had immediate sellable potential.

Alesh: And there’s the ripple effect. People who found confidence in the workshops are now thinking about other creative routes or performance opportunities. That’s already starting to play out with offers from other venues.

Leon: What’s next for the People’s Recovery Project?

Jill: We want to keep a regular creative offer running alongside our other recovery activities. The plan is to start weekly creative sessions in the new year and to link members with local venues for more performance work. We’re open to partnerships with community arts spaces, open mics, theatre groups and venues that might welcome sober events.

Alesh: Also keep an eye out for the April performance night. We want to keep things fun and accessible, but also ambitious by giving people chances to show their work in different spaces.

Leon: Any final reflections on the value of art and creativity in recovery?

Alesh: For me it’s simple: treat people as artists and you’ll see different work. That’s the magic. Creativity gives people agency. They make something, they decide, they put it into the world.

Jill: I’d add that the lack of institutional pressure helped. People could be themselves without being on display as a “case study.” That freedom produced really moving and honest work.

The People’s Recovery Project https://thepeoplesrecoveryproject.org/ @thepeoplesrecoveryproject

oplesrecoveryproject