Trying to not be a hypocrit

In thinking more about the tone, or rather the power dynamic, I desire with my doll piece, I was reminded of the ventriloquist Nina Conti. 

She is a pioneer of her art, meeting her commitment to process with herself through deep relationship with her dummies. I first discovered her by watching the documentary 'Her Masters Voice'.

I flat out adore her creativity, madness and bravery. What fascinates me is how she has gone on to stretch her artform beyond traditional boundaries, turning her audience into dummies themselves in her standup shows. The collaboration, the joy and the ridiculousness is lush. Just watch it and you will see.

Putting down the astounding polymath skill her work requires, I revere how she is actively dissolving the hierarchy between human and object, performer and performed. In doing so, her exchanges becomes reciprocal and intimate. It is process. And process is all. 

I have a deep affinity with clowning process in particular. The clown, the Fool, has so much to teach us because it embodies freedom through vulnerability. In mythology, tarot, and theatre, unlike the hero or the sage, the Fool does not claim mastery: instead, they move through the world with openness, allowing experience itself to be the teacher. While other archetypes seek control, the Fool’s lack of ego allows for play, naivety and flow. They don’t cling to identity or outcome, which makes them a powerful symbol for creativity. In Tarot, the Fool is numbered zero, representing both everything and nothing, the eternal beginner. This cyclical potential mirrors my artist’s journey: always starting again, forever learning, forever becoming.

Conti's work reveals just this: how humour, authenticity and empathy can become radical acts of connection. Her allowing the object to speak back is a way of listening to something hidden within ourselves. 

This reversal of power resonates with my own work. I want my doll to be a collaborator, not a subject. 

Ventriloquists invite us to reconsider the doll or puppet not as a lifeless object, but as a living extension of the self. As a vessel for projection, and internal dialogue. Through ventriloquism, the doll becomes a container for multiplicity: a way to safely externalise conflicting parts of the psyche; humour, grief, and shame. It's a space where truth can surface playfully and indirectly. The puppet can say what the human cannot. 

It's a dynamic that I have experienced as an art therapist: dialogue with the “other”, whether an object, archetype, or imagined persona, allows for healing and integration.

This lens transforms the doll from a symbol of passivity (see Hans Bellmer’s disturbing dolls) into a collaborator in self-understanding. It becomes an instrument of empathy and reflection, a bridge between the conscious and unconscious.

I do not want my doll to be a puppet. I want them to be a tools for psychic repair and creative dialogue. A process gift that allows me and us to meet, laugh, mourn, and evolve through our contradictions and heal.