Meet Libby Bove

I’m Libby, I’m 33, I’m a multidisciplinary artist with an unwavering love of  M.O.T. stations. My professional background is pretty sprawling: I’ve made puppets, driven bin lorries, built sets, designed tea towels, and sorted a lot of rubbish. Creativity and making have always been a big part of  what I do, but it wasn’t until a certain pandemic put a stop to all my other work that I decided to make it the thing I do. I knew I’d enjoy an art degree, but I didn’t anticipate just how transformative it would be.

Within my work, I utilise traditional craft processes, documentary formats and archival presentation to create pieces that masquerade as genuine artefacts from a world that could have been. So far Roadside Magic has manifested in a number of ways: a series of ceramic ceremonial masks, photographs documenting imagined folk rituals at M.O.T. stations, costumes and textiles, songs and stories, the list goes on. Towards the end of my degree, it became apparent that I wanted this collection of artefacts needed to move, and to travel the roadways that inspired it. So my final project was creating The Museum of Roadside Magic – a travelling archive of Roadlore, with a gift shop caravan towing behind. This work toured lay-bys and folk fairs last year, with performances and workshops by a number of collaborating artists.

There felt something so beautifully full circle about touring the museum in this way. Sitting around a fire with friends singing newly forged folk songs, dispensing herbs for glove boxes and jump starting dead batteries. Playful and make-believe, but at the same time providing a genuine and much needed service.

For all of Instagram’s faults, I still think it’s an incredible resource for creative opportunities, and this is where I found out about The Hari Art Prize. It felt like such a great opportunity, even if it didn’t lead to selection, as it offered a means for my practice to be presented to a panel of esteemed figures in the art world. As a (slightly) mature graduate, there is a bit of sense that the clock is ticking – the wheel is turning.

I started my degree on a bit of a whim, but after the first year, and the joy that came from spending every day focusing on creating, I made a promise to myself that I’d try my best to make it count. I know making a living from an artist is exceptionally difficult, but I thought if I gave it everything I possibly could and applied for every opportunity, then maybe I could do it.

How did you feel winning?

I’m still slightly in disbelief, but not half as much as I was on the actual night. I can’t really put into words howit felt.. first shock, then maybe a bit more shock, then a kind of fizzy elation, with the realisation that working myself to the bone for years was actually paying off. Being selected for the prize has given me a much needed uplift of self-confidence, both in myslef and my work. Also bringing with it the realisation of what the prize means to me in real life terms – allowing myself the time to create new and ambitious works, buy much needed materials and equipment, and prioritise my creative practice.

It’s a great exhibition and the calibre of work is really high. All the works on display are exceptional, there is so much skill here. It’s a testament to the richness of talent within the arts right now. There’s a few pieces that really stood out to me personally. These included Blythe Plenderleith’s Rise, where a skillfully crafted traditional broom inverwaves its way up and through a ladder structure, suggesting notions of the value of heritage crafts and domestic labour. George Richardson’s Lovers, 2023 –  A fascinating sculptural work crafted from steam-bent snooker cues. The way the cues twist and interlock suggests a dance or embrace, two lovers entwined as last orders are called at the bar. Lastly, Jingyi Li’s The Hidden Drawer – Tea Spoon, 2024. Their delicate and ethereal textile sculptures, which use the complex craft of bobbin lace making, create ghostlike effigies of their everyday counterparts.

What do you plan to do with the prize?

When the money first got transferred I went straight to the fabric shop and bought all the colourful velvet, washed linen and calico I could hold in my arms. I was like a kid in a sweetshop, or a haberdashery, then I went to the ceramics distributors, and did a similar thing with clay, loading up with materials to see me through the next body of work. Most of all though, Winning the Hari Art Prize has allowed me to focus fully on my creative practice. Acting as a safety net, enabling me to spend dedicated, extended periods of time researching and making without the constant need for that work to be instantly financially productive. Creating in this way is where the real joy is, and I think in many ways when my best work comes out. It has also allowed me to continue to tour The Museum of Roadside Magic, reaching audiences further and further afield. I’ve also set aside a little pot for all those open calls who do charge fees. I’d like to express my deepest gratitude to Dr. Aron Harilela for such a generous offering, to have this support for my practice means the world.