dialogue
Oliver Herbert | Studio Manager, Curator & Artist
July 2025
8 min read
Embark on Oliver Herbert's remarkable journey from a determined graduate of Edinburgh College of Art, where he first embraced sculpture, to his challenging initiation into London's vibrant yet exclusive art scene. Confronting societal barriers that often favour privilege, Oliver's early years were marked by resilience and adaptation. His shift towards teaching, initially hesitant but ultimately transformative, resonates with profound personal reflections shaped by his upbringing in the LGBTQ+ community amidst a backdrop of societal prejudice.
Oliver's pivotal moment arrived during a serendipitous encounter at Goldsmiths' teacher training recruitment day in Deptford, South East London. This event sparked a passion for education fuelled by influential mentors like John Johnston and Tara Page, who introduced him to critical pedagogy and visionary thinkers such as bell hooks and Paulo Freire.
Oliver Herbert brings a wealth of experience and a forward looking approach to his role as curator at The Showroom. His work with 'Imagining Futures' exemplifies a commitment to socially-engaged and community-rooted art practices. Through this programme, Oliver facilitates creative education for schools and young people, exploring the intersection of art, education, and local socio-political realities. Read more about Oliver's impactful initiatives, from workshops with local communities to youth-led projects fostering sustainability and social justice.
Oliver Herbert, The Showroom, 2025. Image Credit, Scott Lawrimore.
Can you tell us a bit about your journey? How did you find your way into the worlds of art, curation, and education?
“After graduating from Edinburgh College of Art with a degree in Sculpture, I moved to London with the ambition of “becoming” an artist. But I quickly encountered the invisible barriers that shape much of the art world. Many of my peers had access to free housing, family networks or internships through connections. I had none of that. It was a wake-up call to how exclusionary the art world can be.
This was the early 2000s, and while it was a vibrant and exciting time to be in East London with all the art spaces, music venues and clubs, I needed to work to survive. I held down various jobs, mostly in retail. When the company I worked for shut down and I was made redundant, I found myself at a turning point.
Teaching had always been in the background- my mum was an amazing teacher, but for a long time I resisted the idea of working in schools. It felt like such a fixed, normative identity: the suit, the lanyard, the rows of students outside the classroom. I couldn’t see myself in that role. I think as well, growing up queer in the 1990s, schools often felt like hostile environments. Rampant homophobia and policies like Section 28 caused deep, lasting harm. Many people from my community are still dealing with the consequences. But despite that, or maybe because of it, I felt drawn to working with young people in a creative, meaningful way…
How did we get here? Community workshop responding to the work of Nassim Azarzar, 2025.
… At the time, I was living in Deptford, South East London and saw that Goldsmiths was hosting a teacher training recruitment day. I gave myself one week to try the PGCE. That week proved to be really transformative.
I met incredible educators like John Johnston and Tara Page, who introduced me to critical pedagogy and thinkers like bell hooks, Paulo Freire and Dennis Atkinson. I began to understand education as a space for resistance, for protest and for transgression. Even within a problematic system, classrooms could be sites of disruption and radical possibility.
I went on to teach in schools for ten years, including in leadership roles. Being around young people and fellow educators was incredibly energising,it challenged me and fed directly into my own creative practice and research.
Eventually, I formalised that research through an MA in Arts and Learning at Goldsmiths, focusing on how student identities and community contexts can shape the curriculum. I became increasingly interested in the cracks in these curriculums, what gets left out, who gets left behind, and how we can create porous spaces where knowledge flows in from the outside. That grounding continues to shape all the work I do today.”
Making 'Dreamland' with Kent Refugee Action Network, Image Credit, KRAN, 2024.
You move fluidly between artist, curator, educator, and researcher. How do these roles shape each other?
“To me, these roles aren’t separate, they’re different expressions of the same creative and critical practice. As an artist, you’re always researching. As a curator or educator, you’re constantly engaging with materials, ideas and communities in imaginativeand responsive ways.
People often ask what I “do,” and I find it hard to answer because these identities are so interconnected. I move between making, facilitating, thinking, and listening and each role feeds the other. It’s in the space between these roles that the work comes alive.”
Resort 1,2,3, 2025, Oil, acrylic and mixed media on aluminium sheets, 180cm x 100cm, Oliver Herbert.
Congratulations – you've just stepped into the role of Curator for Imagining Futures at The Showroom. What excites you most about this chapter, and what are you hoping to build, shift, or imagine through the programme?
“I’m really excited about Imagining Futures. The Showroom has such a rich legacy of socially-engaged, community-rooted practice and this programme builds on that in new and urgent ways.
Imagining Futures is a creative education programme for schools and young people, grounded in inclusive pedagogy and co-creation. It explores how art and education can respond to the social and political realities of the local area, while also creating international and interdisciplinary conversations.
So far, we’ve co-developed workshops with local communities, launched a regular Art Club at the Portman Children’s Centre and built work experience partnerships with local schools and colleges. We’re also collaborating with the National Society for Education in Art and Design on a research project and running free creative workshops over the school holidays.
This summer, we’re launching Make, Un-Make, Remake- a youth-led takeover with City Lions exploring sustainability, material culture and social justice in response to our changing world. We’re also recruiting for our Young Curators programme, inviting 16–21-year-olds to lead Imagining Futures through their own research, creativity and direction.
At its heart, Imagining Futures is about creating space for experimentation, reflection and youth leadership. It’s about shaping culture and community through collective learning and making.”
Using Your Art to Say No, responding to the work of Mikhail Karikis, The Showroom, 2025.
You also hold the role of studio manager, a position that requires deep trust, adaptability, and creative insight. What does being a studio manager involve, and how do you approach the role in a way that feels meaningful to you?
“As Studio Manager for Studio Lenca, my role is ever-evolving. Jose’s practice spans painting, performance, film and installation. It’s rooted in themes of migration, identity and displacement. Supporting that work means constantly adapting, thinking critically and creating space for ideas.
One day I might be writing a curatorial text, the next coordinating a film shoot or planning an exhibition. It’s demanding, but incredibly exciting. Jose has this way of using colour and material as a kind of borderless language-his work creates space for connection and dialogue across cultures. There’s something magnetic about it; people respond to it instinctively.
The practice has expanded into its own world, one that encompasses education, activism, storytelling and experimentation.
What makes this role so meaningful is the shared ethos between us. We both come from teaching backgrounds, and that informs how we approach everything-not just exhibitions, but workshops, residencies, and community projects. It’s rooted in care and collaboration.“
Through all the work you do with artists, young people, institutions, and ideas, what have you come to understand more clearly about yourself?
“I’ve come to understand the importance—and the power—of deep listening. I tend to work at a fast pace and bring a lot of energy to what I do, but over time I’ve realised that some of the most transformative work happens when you slow down and truly listen.
I often return to Pauline Oliveros’ idea of “deep listening”- not just as a musical or auditory practice, but as a way of being. It’s about attunement, presence, and empathy. Whether I’m in a classroom, with a community or in the studio or gallery the most important thing I can do is listen-to people, to place and to possibility.”
Studio Lenca workshop, In the Light That Remains, Kates Ferri Projects, New York.
What's something, like an image, a book, a song, or even a place, that's been living in your mind lately and why?
“My role at The Showroom is deeply rooted in the local community of Church Street in Westminster. It’s such a special, vibrant and supportive neighbourhood. There’s an amazing market, a library, community space and artist studios. I’ve never experienced anywhere quite like it in London.
I’ve already learned so much from this place, about how alternative structures, collective knowledge-sharing and grassroots collaboration can shape new ways of thinking and making. The food’s incredible too- especially Bilal’s falafel van!”
Church street, 2025, Digital Image, Oliver Herbert.
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