Sculpting stories: methods to unsettle knowledge production in disasters

In disaster studies, the concept of vulnerability is used to explain why a natural/physical or human-induced hazard might result in disaster (Barrios, 2017; Hoffman and Barrios, 2019, p. 2). In South Africa, hazards such as droughts, floods, storms and fires impact significantly on people living with high levels of socioeconomic vulnerability (Culwick et al., 2019; Knight, 2019; Mazeka et al., 2019; Mulugeta et al., 2007; Niekerk and Nemakonde, 2017). Shaped by physical, economic, political and social factors, vulnerability influences how individuals and communities can “anticipate, cope with, resist, and recover” from disasters (Wisner, 2016). Persistent and extreme conditions of environmental risk undermine people’s capabilities, disproportionately affecting specific populations and individuals (Chmutina and Von Meding, 2019).

In this article, we focus on the experiences of the urban poor affected by a flood in Durban, South Africa. We argue that arts-based research (ABR) methods provide a new perspective for understanding and decolonizing the ways knowledge is produced. ABR is a participatory process, enabling participants to shape the research and promoting respectful and reciprocal relationships among co-researchers (Manifesto/Accord, accessed 2024). Developed by the first author, Emily Ragus, the playdough sculpting method allows participants to express their experiences of disasters in ways that might be overlooked by traditional methods such as interviews or surveys. It supports an open-ended inquiry and aligns with calls to decolonize disaster studies by asking, “whose worldviews and senses inform the work?” (Cadag, 2022).

In this study, ABR provided a collective space for communication, made possible by the pre-existing relationships of some of the researchers (including the second author, Catherine Sutherland) with the participants. The method was initially introduced as an “ice-breaker” in a workshop on basic health education and first aid, conducted in 2023 to provide skills to participants. Disaster scholars emphasize the importance of diverse knowledge systems to understand and address the impacts of disasters (Kelman, 2020). In this study, playdough sculpting facilitated participants expressing their stories through their sculptures and enabled them to discuss difficult events while it fostered communication and insight. The process created tangible representations of trauma, revealing the physical and psychological effects of floods.

The United Nations Office for Disaster Risk Reduction (UNDRR) defines a disaster as “a serious disruption of the functioning of a community or society due to hazardous events interacting with exposure, vulnerability, and capacity, leading to human, material, economic, and environmental losses and impacts” (UNDRR, 2019, p. 9). South Africa is recognized as a leader in disaster governance due to its progressive preventative and inclusive legislation and policies (Culwick et al., 2019; Pelling and Holloway, 2006; van Niekerk, 2014). However, challenges in implementing these policies exacerbate the impacts of disasters. Colonial and apartheid-era inequalities further perpetuate environmental vulnerabilities, with race, class and gender significantly shaping the outcomes of natural/physical hazards, as observed in the informal settlement where this research was conducted.

Calls for the decolonization of knowledge represent a political movement against western hegemony in framing knowledge (Cadag, 2022). To achieve this, there is a need to rethink how disasters are researched, emphasizing diverse voices and knowledge systems (Sang Yum and Baars, 2023; Takach and Cook, 2024). The RADIX Disaster Manifesto, for example, calls for equitable relationships between researchers from different global contexts, advocating for inclusive and representative practices (Gaillard and Raju, 2022; Manifesto/Accord, accessed 2024). Traditional research approaches like structured interviews can perpetuate these inequalities, reinforcing colonial power dynamics and global knowledge asymmetries (Farrales et al., 2022; Sang Yum and Baars, 2023). In contrast, ABR approaches, such as the one we describe, offer a decolonizing methodology that challenges knowledge production dominated by the global north (Musariri et al., 2024).

In April 2022, catastrophic floods, resulting in deaths, infrastructural damage and economic loss, occurred in Durban. In the study we report here, we used ABR methods to invite those most impacted by the floods to narrate their stories in their own voices. Visual and oral methodologies are increasingly recognized as essential tools for decolonization, allowing for expression beyond traditional modes of knowledge production (Pink, 2004, 2011; Cartwright and Crowder, 2017; Visse et al., 2019). ABR offers novel ways to address power imbalances between researchers and participants by fostering active engagement and reciprocal understanding, and so supports decolonizing knowledge production by recentering what counts as knowledge. It challenges the dominance of scientific approaches that reduce experience to quantitative evaluation or that view disasters solely through narrow, analytical frames. By reclaiming power through storytelling, this approach creates transformative spaces. The methods align with Rudolf Arnheim’s (1980) perspective that direct sensory experiences are crucial for authentic knowledge acquisition and address limitations of language in addressing power and oppression.

Art has been used to frame trauma, retrieve and process traumatic memories and help communities reclaim control over their lives (Huss et al., 2016). The approach, we argue, enhances the research process through art-making, oral storytelling, photovoice and other communicative forms that allow participants to craft their own narratives (Bennett and Dearden, 2013; Gant et al., 2009; Huss and Cwikel, 2005; Sim et al., 2019; Wang and Burris, 1997). Creative methodologies are continually evolving through the use, for example, of graphic novels to teach children about earthquakes, body-mapping to depict lived experiences and engaging youth as citizen scientists in post-disaster research (Sharpe and Izadkhah, 2014; Green, 2021; Peek and Guikema, 2021). These methods also have the potential to facilitate healing and build resilience in disaster-affected communities (Van Loon et al., 2020; Huss et al., 2016; Kuriansky, 2019).

Durban is the largest city in the province of KwaZulu-Natal (KZN), South Africa. The contrast between its middle-class suburbs and informal settlements such as Quarry Road West, located in Durban’s urban core, captures the city’s stark disparities. In Quarry Road West, social, economic and environmental inequalities converge. The settlement, established in 1984, straddles the Palmiet River and is bordered by a highway and an arterial road. It is characterized by precarious living conditions. Informal houses, built with basic materials of wooden poles, tin, chipboard and cardboard sheeting. About 1,100 households are located in the settlement (Mazeka et al., 2019), with around 4,500 people living in the settlement, as they claim their right to the city and access to urban opportunities. The majority of residents speak isiZulu and isiXhosa and originate from the provinces of KZN and the Eastern Cape.

Over the past five years, Durban has faced a series of overlapping crises, including the social and economic fallout from COVID-19, fires, civil unrest and recurrent floods. This includes the flood of April 2022, considered to be one of the worst on record in Durban and in KZN, in terms of lives lost and overall economic impact (Grab and Nash, 2023). It resulted in close to 500 fatalities, displaced 40,000 individuals, destroyed over 12,000 homes and resulted in significant damage to infrastructure, including 34 clinics, 23 hospitals, office buildings and bridges, roads, power lines, telecommunication towers and water and sanitation pipes (Mudefi, 2023). The floods caused major sewerage infrastructure damage, leading to ongoing sewage leaks that continue to impact the city’s waterways. The overall economic impact of the floods was estimated at 17 bn rand (Mudefi, 2023).

During the floods, residents of Quarry Road West informal settlement received regular updates from the community-based early warning system that had been established in the settlement since 2016, while relying also on their own knowledge of the river (Sutherland, 2024). When the river changed course, people had to evacuate the settlement under extremely difficult conditions, as this took place at night during a period of national load shedding. In the aftermath, they graphically described the changes in terms of sensory perception. The slow and engulfing mud rose around them, altering the smells, shapes, colors and sounds of a space with which they were intimately familiar: “There was nothing left when I came home, the mud had stained all that wasn’t washed away; the only color (other than the mud) that I saw was the yellow of a flower that somehow survived” (Sipho). The water from these floods reshaped the space, washing away all the informal houses and leaving behind stretches of uninhabitable soil, further reducing the already limited available land.

During a six-month period of ethnographic inquiry, Emily conducted a multiphase data collection process. These included two introductory workshops, which involved two arts-based processes – playdough modeling and body mapping. The next phase involved 28 one-on-one life narrative interviews, each lasting between three and six hours. These interviews were conducted in English, except for one in isiXhosa, with a translator assisting the interviewer (Emily). All interviews were recorded, transcribed line by line and digitally stored.

In the following, we describe playdough modeling as an ABR method, drawing on data from two ABR workshops that were intended to center on injury and first aid. We discuss how playdough helped to shift power dynamics (research findings will be reported in other articles). Playdough was introduced to allow participants to convey their personal experiences of the floods and to portray the lived reality of disasters through a sculptured model of the self. Throughout the workshops, detailed notes were taken to document participant engagement, reactions and communication. Images were regularly produced and later reviewed as part of the analysis process. As we describe below, the technique emerged as valuable in lessening power disparities between researchers and participants, granting the latter autonomy to shape their stories and decide on the extent of their sharing. As discussed, the method introduced a creative, human-centered approach to disaster studies.

The first workshop, initially intended to share first aid skills and to introduce the study, was conducted in the secure environment of a local community hall; this allowed us to engage with those who had been most impacted by the floods and to establish relationships and rapport with residents. Following the advice of local researchers, a second workshop was then held in the local tavern (Plate 1, shebeen).

The research aim of the larger project was to explore the embodied experience of flooding events and consider how these events changed people’s perception of themselves and their environment. Prior to commencing her Ph.D., Emily had worked in clinical emergency nursing and as an aid worker in several humanitarian crises. In the workshops in Quarry Road West informal settlement, she offered basic first aid and practical lifesaving knowledge as a way to offer something to the community where she planned to do research. To facilitate these workshops, Emily worked with other researchers, including Catherine from the University of KwaZulu Natal (UKZN), whose team had already engaged in community-based research and the co-production of knowledge for 10 years in the informal settlement. Members of the UKZN team introduced her to community leaders and enabled all workshops to be conducted in a mix of isiZulu and English, ensuring communication and co-production across different languages.

Initially, data collection was planned through interviews and observational ethnography conducted by Emily. According to community leaders, the 2022 floods reshaped the spatial landscape of the Quarry Road West informal settlement. The floodwaters eroded large areas of land and blocked the space under the bridge, which had previously provided a private area for drug use. This shift created new spaces for drug-related activities and contributed to a rise in drug-related violence. For this reason, community leaders advised the researchers to approach the space cautiously and prioritize the safety of both the researchers and local collaborators. As a result, the project’s methods were modified to address evolving security challenges, beginning with a series of injury and healing workshops which began approximately 10 months after the 2022 floods. The workshops not only taught basic life-saving skills but also, as noted above, served as a way for Emily to be introduced to and begin to gain the trust of the community. To promote these workshops, posters were created in isiZulu and English, and community leaders were asked to place them on the community ablution blocks, the only sanitation facilities available to approximately 4,500 residents but also one of the only public spaces available. This recruitment strategy aimed to ensure that those interested in learning new skills and participating in the research could do so voluntarily, without imposing additional pressure on people who were already contributing to research with UKZN. This approach also broadened the range of participants beyond the community leaders who usually worked with UKZN. The workshops attracted a diverse group of men and women approximately 18–60 years old.

The turnout for the first workshop exceeded expectations, as it had originally been designed to accommodate approximately 15 participants. On the day of the workshop, as announced on the posters, a taxi bus to transport the participants was organized by Emily. Over 70 people arrived, but with space for only 47 on the bus, some volunteered to return for a follow-up workshop to be scheduled in the coming weeks.

The workshop was intended to follow a structured agenda based on Emily’s previous experience: a short icebreaker, two hours of first aid training, a lunch break, a community-based map activity and another two hours of training. To maintain a strong community focus, we enlisted the expertise of a local caterer from the settlement to prepare sandwiches for both workshops. The first aid training was hands-on, using props found around the community to ensure participants could apply their knowledge in a local context. Emily also partnered with an art consultant, Alexandra Howland, to adapt a graphic educational cartoon (Figure 1), based on material provided by the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), to communicate basic first aid protocols for residents. This included essential instructions on applying bandages and tourniquets to stop bleeding, basic burn care, strategies for managing heatstroke and rehydration, the recovery position, handling electrocution and addressing common injuries and bites. The cartoon was translated into isiZulu, and each participant received a copy as a handout.

Many younger participants preferred communicating in English, while older participants communicated in a mix of isiXhosa or isiZulu. Education levels among participants varied, with the highest level being the completion of tertiary education; most participants worked casually, in the informal sector or were unemployed. All participants except for one had lived in Quarry Road West informal settlement during the 2022 floods; some had resided there for as long as 25 years.

Each workshop participant was given a small portion of playdough (plasticene or children’s modeling clay), enough to fit into the palm of their hand, and was invited to craft a three-dimensional representation of themselves. Participants were shown an example of how to sculpt the playdough, and Emily created her own version of self. She clarified that, given their unfamiliarity with each other, the playdough self-representations would help establish connections among each other.

Participants were divided into smaller groups to foster open dialogue, with seating arrangements that we hoped would encourage trust and confidence. Although participants were initially assigned a single block color, many negotiated color exchanges and incorporated alternate materials to add texture and abstract elements to their model, using ink to draw directly onto the malleable dough or incorporating metal objects to create texture. Several artists used shredded paper to symbolize aspects such as fragility or resilience, enhancing their visual narratives of self.

Within 15 min, the playdough exercise had evolved into something far more significant than “ice-breaking.” As participants engaged with the tactile experience of sculpting, the room filled with noise and excitement. People eagerly compared their models, laughing as they interacted with one another. Their wish to continue beyond the scheduled time, showing more interest in creating art than in the first aid training, led to greater flexibility, allowing participants to continue to mold the images and consequently, encouraging more horizontal and democratic research practices (Seppälä et al., 2021).

After approximately 40 min, Emily encouraged members of each group to present their 3D models. Most chose to speak in isiZulu, with their words recorded and later transcribed. Participants stood at the front of the room to share their models and the personal stories behind them. As the session continued, participants transitioned from being “participants” to becoming “artists,” each contributing to the collective storytelling of their embodied experiences of the floods. The first to speak was Sipho, who, having worked closely with the UKZN team over the past decade, felt comfortable expressing her thoughts and ideas of her art (Plate 2). Catherine had suggested Sipho go first, as she knew her power and ability to engage others and to give them the confidence to speak openly and from the heart. She stood up and began:

Sipho used white playdough on top of her dark blue figure to represent her external injuries, drawing a contrast between her visible, outward appearance and the hidden inner world known only to herself. After Sipho, each artist was invited to stand and explain their model. For over an hour, each person stood up and explained their model to others. The models allowed for and reflected a wide range of self-representations, as each artist used the playdough sculpting to express their unique experiences. During this time, there was a subtle shift in the power dynamics of the workshop. Participants took control of the time to share their stories, moving away from the workshop’s initial didactic focus. Using playdough models facilitated interaction and provided insights into local knowledge of injury and survival, revealing nuanced connections between people and their environment. By working toward a safe environment and through the process of art-making, people opened up about their connections with and understanding of the environment around them. This was exemplified when Funani (pseudonym) spoke about the fragility of his life:

The element of play, associated with the pliability of clay and the slow process of moving their hands, seemed to allow participants the freedom to reflect on their experiences. This ensured that they had time to tell the story that they wanted to share. As this storytelling unfolded, the artists took control of the process and time. The consequent power shifts suggest the transformative potential of art as a means of questioning and reshaping power structures inherent in research endeavors. After each artist explained their model, the workshop continued, but significant portions of the first aid curriculum had to be removed due to time constraints.

ABR consequently expanded the scope of disaster research by giving participants the space to narrate their experiences and define their boundaries in doing so. Playdough modeling captured the deeply personal and communal dimensions of disasters, revealing the subtle and ongoing impacts of these events. The social consequences were vividly expressed by individuals, who shared their reactions to each other in the aftermath of the disasters. Linda (Plate 3) explained the complexity of these interactions:

Within the realm of disasters, ABR allows participants to express their thoughts and emotions tangibly, facilitating a deeper exploration of lived trauma (Green, 2021; Gullion and Schäfer, 2018; Knowles and Cole, 2007). Bafana taught us how violence in his community became an embodied part of his self-perception (Plate 4). By demonstrating that such violence is not just witnessed but also internalized, he showed us how ABR methods can be both reflexive and critical in disaster research, offering a distinctive means to uncover and explore these complexities.

We provide an analysis of the data in a later article; here, we focus on the method. Throughout this ongoing research, opportunities emerged to reflect on how ABR methods could include a diverse range of participants. The data collected through ABR also influenced subsequent research, highlighting the importance of incorporating sensory data to better understand lived experiences. A thematic inductive analysis of the stories that emerged from the playdough models was conducted, categorizing the images based on physical attributes, social and economic symbolism, the impact of the environment on self-perception and themes such as self-representation, gender and hope.

In examining the impact of disasters, it is essential to foreground the personal reflections and lived experiences of those most affected. One participant, Buhle (pseudonym), metaphorically compared life’s challenges to storms:

Buhle’s story taught us how the impact of floods extended beyond economic and physical devastation, creating deep social and psychological scars. Regardless of their background, external disaster researchers have limited insight into how specific bodies and experiences are situated within the wider historical and structural context that shapes them. Disaster studies must employ local knowledge to understand how individuals are directly affected by disasters. This involves acknowledging the trauma of these events and actively involving those who have experienced them. By empowering marginalized voices and embracing nontraditional forms of expression, ABR creates space for more inclusive and contextually relevant understandings of disaster experiences. This approach redefines the role of the researcher and reshapes the process of knowledge creation, aligning it more closely with the lived realities of those most affected by crises. Our aim in using ABR was to challenge dominant ideas that marginalize alternative ways of understanding and knowing. The active participation of community members was essential, ensuring that they felt respected and comfortable throughout the process. This approach validated their perspectives and, as discussed above, led to a second workshop in a shebeen, a social space usually dominated by men; this deepened engagement with the community on their terms. Given the positionality of the research team (Emily is both white and an outsider to South Africa), it was crucial to navigate the ethical complexities of race, gender, class and belonging. Recognizing these dynamics, ABR became a vital tool for fostering an inclusive and culturally safe environment.

Researchers must also consider ethical questions, such as who decides the need for research, whose research it is, and who benefits from it (Manifesto/Accord, accessed 2023). Researchers also need to be mindful of the extent to which participants are comfortable sharing personal information and experiences, and, as suggested by others, art has been employed as a reflective, culturally safe approach to avoid replicating existing power imbalances (Coholic et al., 2009; Lenette et al., 2022; Ugurlu et al., 2016). In our study, playdough sculpting enabled participants to create a space of safety to express their experiences of floods at their own pace. The emphasis was on the process rather than the result, valuing authenticity of expression over aesthetic merit. This method allowed participants to set their own boundaries regarding what they felt comfortable sharing.

By acknowledging the power dynamics between local and external researchers, this method facilitates the creation of a collective visual narrative grounded in situated knowledge. Through the process of sculpting, participants are able to articulate their personal experiences of flooding in a tangible and expressive way. For instance, Mpumelelo, one of the artists, used this method to speak about love in the aftermath of the floods, revealing vulnerability: “This is a bucket of love and this doll shows the love to all the people in the community. Love is free on earth; some members of the community still have that love. We need to spread love where we stay so that we will have a good community” (Plate 5). Mpumelelo highlighted to the researchers the emotional strength present in the community after the disaster.

Crucial in ethnographic studies, reflexivity in research involves questioning one’s assumptions. This method strives to bridge the gap between researchers and participants, creating a supportive and creative environment. Although power differentials cannot be completely eradicated, acknowledging and addressing them is essential for fostering a sense of co-production (Muhammad et al., 2015). Engaging deeply in participatory information exchange is necessary to understand how disasters reshape social spaces and how people adapt to these changes (Dahlberg et al., 2015, p. 67). In our workshops, dynamic dialogue unfolded through artistic storytelling, revealing deep insights into the traumatic experiences of individuals coping with disasters.

The success of the workshops and subsequent research depended on maintaining a continuous feedback loop involving community leaders, researchers from UKZN, the art consultant Alexandra Rose Howland and Emily, all working together to create a safe and welcoming space. This process highlighted the necessity of a well-structured, flexible framework for applying these methods, particularly in settings where strong pre-existing relationships are absent or where participants may not feel at ease using playdough sculpting for visual storytelling.

To address this need, the “Sculpting Stories Ten-Step Guide,” set out in  Appendix, was developed. The aim is to provide a comprehensive approach for implementing playdough sculpting as a versatile tool across diverse research fields and contexts. Developed through experiential learning and refined with feedback from artists and participants, the guide emphasizes creating a safe environment, incorporating ethical considerations and ensuring ongoing consent processes. This may be particularly important in disaster studies, where creative methods can inadvertently trigger trauma related to disasters as well as in other research settings where participants may reflect on distressing or potentially traumatic experiences. The guide is based on the steps undertaken during the workshops, with additional considerations not initially included, such as the use of varied colors of playdough, which participants can select to represent different emotions and ideas and best reflect their self-perception. The use of color in artistic expression can uncover significant information, as color is closely linked to memory and emotional experience (Dzulkifli and Mustafar, 2013; Pink, 2011).

What began as a simple icebreaker transformed into a key component of the workshop and subsequently the methodology. Playdough sculpting proved to be an invaluable visual and tactile method, providing a platform for self-expression and highlighting the vulnerabilities of affected communities. This hands-on approach ensured that the voices of vulnerable populations, often overlooked in traditional methods, were brought to the forefront (Johnson et al., 2022).

While methods that generate quantitative data or written observations can miss the nuances of experiences shaped by societal values and norms, integrating approaches like narrative interviews with ABR can enhance understanding. ABR allows participants to shape their narratives, control the extent of trauma disclosure and avoid the marginalization of essential perspectives in academic discourse. By fostering an inclusive and empathetic exploration of experiences, playdough sculpting transcends conventional research boundaries.

Beyond being an art activity, playdough modeling becomes a powerful tool for exploring the deep-seated trauma linked to disasters. It enables survivors to use abstraction and self-representation to convey their unique challenges and emotions. Combining artistic expression with data collection sheds light on the complex situations faced at the intersection of disasters and societal inequalities. The workshops aimed to decolonize disaster knowledge by tackling the power imbalances between researchers and participants. Through the arts-based activities, the artists from the Quarry Road West informal settlement provided key insights into the challenges of qualitative research.

The authors express their deep appreciation to the University of KwaZulu Natal, with particular recognition for the invaluable contributions made by Bashintshile Buthelezi and Duduzile Khumalo (Mah Dudu). The guidance provided by them played a crucial role in facilitating Emily’s introduction and collaboration with the residents of Quarry Road West informal settlement. Special thanks to the continuous openness and willingness of the artists from Quarry Road West informal settlement, who actively took part in this research and for whom this project would not have been possible. Additionally, Emily extends her thanks to Alexandra Rose Howland for her artistic influence and technical guidance throughout this process. Emily was funded by the Sir John Monash Foundation, Australia. This study was conducted in association with the project “Ecological Community Engagements: Imagining Sustainability and the Water-Energy-Food Nexus in Urban South African Environments (Eco-Imagining)” (PIs: Lenore Manderson and Eileen Moyer), funded by the Merian – National Research Foundation (South Africa) and NWO – Dutch Research Council (Netherlands).

Table A1