Lisa Heledd Jones

I’m working as a producer with Immersive Arts, a programme supporting artists across the UK to explore the possibilities of immersive technologies.

From my shed in North Wales, I’m job-sharing with the brilliant Allie John from Yellobrick, and together we’re taking on the role of producers for Wales, working alongside David Massey and the team at Wales Millennium Centre (who curate incredible immersive work in BOCS and Arced at WMC).

It’s good to be part of a national team led by Watershed’s Pervasive Media Studio in Bristol. We’re partnering with Cryptic in Glasgow and the Nerve Centre in Belfast and Derry - a collaboration that spans the whole of the UK. i’m enjoying everyone’s openness to working with the Welsh language and the whole website/portal and project is bilingual.

A big focus of this project is accessibility, making sure that artists from all backgrounds can engage with immersive tools. There’s £3.6 million in funding available to support artists over the next three years.

We’ve recently been running Inspiration Days across the UK, with training led by Crossover Labs, and Unlimited leading on the accessibility work. Allie and I have also been putting on events in North Wales, and we definitely want to do more of that in the future.

It’s feels good to be working on a project that is opening doors for artists to tell their stories through immersive technology. If you’re interested, the Immersive Arts UK application portal is now open.

Siop Stori | Story Shop

The Story Shop model is something I’ve honed over the past decade, working with partners including University of Birmingham’s Stories of Change project (Treherbert/Ynysybwl), National Theatre Wales (Llangefni), Heritage Lottery (Talacre), Theatre Alibi (Exeter), and CADW (Flint). Each project has had different aims, from climate change storytelling to public art consultations, but the Story Shop format has consistently broken down barriers between people, place, and project in creative, engaging ways.

A Story Shop serves as a community residency—part installation, part workshop, and part recording studio. We aim to go, in the words of Gentle Radical, "an inch wide and a mile deep," ensuring the project forms deep connections in the community. The space transforms as people contribute, becoming a place for storytelling, asking questions, and building relationships. The atmosphere is key, designed to feel homely and welcoming yet curious, making it the kind of space you’d want to sit in with a cup of tea while surrounded by exhibitions designed to inspire responses.

The Story Shop space starts as a blank canvas but evolves over time, incorporating oral histories, maps, photographs, and objects contributed by the community. Word of mouth plays a huge role, and people often return with others to share more. By the final day, the space reflects the personalities and stories of those who have engaged with it. This energy has led to various outcomes, including oral histories, audio walks, photography, print-making, creative collaborations, and even community funding opportunities.

Every Story Shop adapts to its location, offering materials for young people, older people, and those with additional needs. Though some outcomes can be planned, there’s always space for the unexpected to emerge, which is often where the magic happens.

Check out a film of our time with Theatre Alibi in Exeter.

I’ve been working with Theatre Alibi in Exeter since 2019, and every moment has been a joy - they’re a very special company and the abundance of curiosity, creativity and compassion within each project is inspiring. One of the first projects I was involved in was the Pop-up Story Shop for St Thomas Stories. I worked with the team to transform Emmanuel Hall as a changing exhibition of St Thomas and invited people in to look, sit and share. Alongside Dan Jamieson, we recorded countless stories from people who came through the door. These recordings fed directly into Riverland, a theatre piece written by Dan and produced by Theatre Alibi, followed by a story walk around St Thomas, weaving the community’s stories back into the place they came from.

Later, I worked on the St Thomas photography exhibition, where I helped create digital stories and had a hand in designing and hanging the exhibition at Emmanuel Hall. Another memorable project was Boxville, where I recorded stories from children as they created words out of cardboard, capturing their voices and ideas.

During the pandemic, Theatre Alibi produced a one-woman show called Down to Earth. I was involved in making the film of this production, which can be viewed here.

Theatre Alibi has transformed recently under the brilliant leadership of Debbie Bucella, becoming a Centre for the Imagination. I’m excited to see where this new direction will take them, as they continue to push boundaries and foster creativity.

You can listen to the Climate Conversations podcast on Spotify, which I recorded and produced as part of the EGIN programme.

The EGIN initiative, run by National Theatre Wales and supported by the British Council, brought together artists from all over the world, alongside local communities, farmers, landowners, ecologists, and protestors from movements like Extinction Rebellion (XR). Each conversation was organised by a different group, including collectives like Gentle Radical. These discussions explored how the climate crisis is affecting Welsh language, culture, and heritage, and they were thought-provoking, and occasionally awkward (facilitated brilliantly by Lindsey Colbourne - who also has an amazing website that is worth spending time with)

Capturing these conversations and turning them into a podcast was challenging - both practically and because of the range of voices and perspectives. By also recording the landscape of Eryri I found a way to bring these vivid conversations to life and think they will resonate for a long time to come.

An audio experience for one person at a time commissioned by Warwick Arts Centre and performed at Warwick, Edinburgh fringe and Machynlleth Comedy Festival.

Here’s the blurb:

Every place has its own sound. A resonance made up of invisible sound shadows of what exists and what has been before. Even when it seems empty.

We carry resonance inside of us too. And when we’re still, we can hear them. The shadows of people and presents and stupid jokes. Long after we think they’re forgotten.

Trace brings together stories that emerged from listening to and recording an empty football ground. Stories of loss, the FA cup and of what it means to remember.

The piece includes field and archive recordings and the voice of goalkeeping hero Steve Ogrizovic”

“It’s a glorious piece of work – funny, clever and absolutely heart-felt…I can’t stop feeling it, and I want that piece of work to live forever.”
Bianca, audience member

You can read a review of Trace at Forest Fringe here.

Creative Landscapes Podcasts

During lockdown, Articulture invited me to record a series of podcasts focused on the theme of creative collaborations involving landscapes. The Creative Landscapes Podcasts explored what makes collaborations successful, featuring illuminating conversations with organisations and individuals deeply involved in landscape and heritage work.

I recorded discussions with guests from Cadw, Natural Resources Wales, RSPB, Krystal Lowe, Simon Coates, Matthew Gough, Living Levels, Tin Shed Theatre, David Gough, Cairngorms National Park, Karine Décorne, and Marc Rees. These conversations allowed participants to reflect on their experiences and share insights on what works well in creative partnerships. It was often moving to listen to and record their thoughts, as the conversations brought up deep reflections on trust and what it takes to work within natural environments.

Although the podcasts were hosted by the River Wye Festival for a year, they are no longer available - it’s a shame as the themes that emerged still hold real value, maybe more so as the years go on?

Community Engagement Officer – Curlew Connections Wales

The curlew, with its distinctive long bill and haunting call, is a bird deeply tied to the Welsh landscape and, for me, to my family’s own story. Growing up on a farm, the sound of the curlew was a constant part of summers past, as my dad, Dilwyn, often recalled. My Nain even captured their presence in her diary, making the curlew not just a symbol of nature, but a thread woven through my family’s memories.

Now, sadly, the curlew’s call is growing ever quieter. Over 80% of Wales’ curlew population has been lost since the 1990s, and the species is red-listed on both the Welsh and UK Birds of Conservation Concern. The Dee Valley (where I live), situated in Important Curlew Area (ICA) 5, is crucial in the efforts to save this remarkable bird.

As a Community Engagement Officer for Curlew Connections Wales, I’ve worked to bring these stories—both personal and ecological—to life, connecting communities to the urgent need to protect the curlew. Whether sitting at kitchen tables, in schoolrooms, or on farms, I shared the message that the future of the curlew depends on all of us.

Partnering with Curlew and People Officer Sam Kenyon, the Clwydian Range and Dee Valley National Landscape team, Bannau Brycheiniog, and the Game & Wildlife Conservation Trust (GWCT), we created a farmer-friendly booklet and organised community events that put the curlew’s story front and center. The support from local farmers, who delayed forage cuts to protect curlew nests, was inspiring and essential to our success.

I worked with Ticky Lowe and Making Sense CIO to create sensory boxes with curlew-themed activities for care homes and schools. These sensory boxes have proven to be a powerful tool for helping residents engage with wildlife conservation through tactile experiences.

This project is part of a much larger movement to save the curlew, and I want to especially highlight the work of Mary Colwell, whose tireless campaigning for curlew conservation has inspired many. You can learn more about the incredible work being done through Curlew Action and follow Curlew Connections Wales on Instagram to stay updated on their efforts.

Following a six month artist residency at the National Trust’s Penrhyn Castle where we were asked to explore the relationship between the local communities and the castle (spoiler: they’re historically not on the best of terms) I put together a series of pieces that included a three part audio installation across three sites - in the Grand Hall in the castle and in nearby Bethesda’s cooperative shop Siop Ogwen and Caffi Coed Y Brenin (two courses on a thursday for £5). Alongside this I made a lightbox that sat in the fireplace in the Grand Hall.

There’s a video that the National Trust made about the work here.

This was about bringing in the voices, the language and stories of local people and of the quarry lockout and place them at the heart of the castle - it would be a three part audio piece that would be in both languages, that would be listened to when sitting in chairs from the and facing the quarry.

I would draw people to this story by bringing light into the dark fireplace that was at the centre of the grand hall by making a lightbox that would have written on it an idiom used time and time again by people in this area to articulate their feelings towards this history.

And I would write those words in the font of the quarry’s agent at the time of the dispute that I found in the archive.

And I would only have those words in the language they were shared with me.

MI GEWCH CHI’CH CROGI AM DDWYN DAFAD ODDI AR Y MYNYDD, OND AM DDWYN Y MYNYDD MI GEWCH CHI’CH GWNEUD YN ARGLWYDD.

Translation: YOU WILL BE HANGED FOR STEALING A SHEEP FROM THE MOUNTAIN, BUT FOR STEALING THE MOUNTAIN YOU WILL BE MADE A LORD.

I had another chair that faced the quarry and in the cafe I had another that faced the castle. Each one with a different part of the story and different voices. And to tie them all together I produced a book with my photographs and quotes from the people I spoke to and some I didn’t. Like Boris Johnson.

More recently, I was asked to write the new guidebook for Penrhyn Castle. I’ve just completed the first draft. In this book I have tried to ensure the family’s fortune made in Jamaica and through slave ownership is given the proper attention alongside the stories and voices of local people.

This story is still so relevant and so current. Just take this quickly pulled down tweet by the Treasury - we as taxpayers only just finished paying off the compensation given to slaveowners at the time of abolition for the loss of ‘their property’.

For more information about the legacy of slave ownership visit UCL’s Legacy of Slave Ownership site. It’s incredible.

Last day of school today, nail in the coffin of the village,' my dad texted me. Living in Cardiff, I didn’t want to believe it—that closing our small village school could be such a final blow. Glyndyfrdwy, with its 500 people strung along the river and the A5, had always felt like a place where people showed up for each other. Or so I remembered.

I came back to see for myself. I began recording stories, listening, trying to understand the village as it is now. Over time, these conversations evolved into a performance that took people from the empty school to the Village Hall—the last public place open to us all. There, we gathered to imagine the village’s future and explore the stories it still held.

This was part of a landscape narrative practice I've used with other communities, where the focus is on uncovering layers of meaning and connection within a place. But working in my own village made me feel vulnerable in a way I hadn’t anticipated. It was knowing people like Tina, Reg, and my parents, and the commitment they’ve poured into the community over the years, that gave me the confidence to dig deeper here, in my own home.

I worked on the Time to Talk project alongside Jeni Burnellfrom Oxford Brookes University. This project focused on capturing the life stories of residents from the Leys estate in Oxford, a vibrant community with a rich history. Working closely with locals, we recorded their personal histories and memories, documenting their experiences living on the estate. Many of these stories were tied to the local factories like Morris Motors and Pressed Steel, which shaped the social life of the area for decades.

After recording, I returned to participants' homes to play their edited stories back to them, and the reaction was always moving - these photos are a testament to that. These stories were later showcased as part of an exhibition at the Museum of Oxford. The exhibition, "40 years, 40 objects," celebrated Oxford's recent history, and our project contributed a digital storytelling element that highlighted the unique heritage and character of Blackbird Leys and Greater Leys.

The exhibition provided a platform for the community to reflect on its shared history, and it was rewarding to see how personal stories could contribute to the broader narrative of the estate.

For more information on this project, you can visit the Heritage Fund website.

People visit lighthouses like people visit castles. They like to go up the tower and briefly think of the history and be amazed that people used to live their lives within such strange walls. People visit the tea cabin down down the path from the lighthouse for many reasons. They pass through while walking the dogs. They might have heard about the perfect loose leaf tea and welsh cake. Or they might have chosen this place to die.

This performance and audio walk takes you from lighthouse to cabin and presents to you previously invisible stories that link these places to us.

I worked with my friend Ashleigh Enness to make this piece.

Here’s a bit of the script:

fog horn station bit

A: The fog signal is sounded at 14.00 on the first Saturday and third Sunday of each month, weather conditions permitting.

L: We have arranged that as you’re all here we can sound the horn. But for that we need you to follow some basic satefy instructions.

health and safety bit

A: We want everybody to have an enjoyable experience and believe that safety is a key contributor to people leaving with smiles on their faces.  We have a few rules we enforce and would be grateful if you could put these headphones on as we would like to protect your ears from the sound of the fog horn.  It is very important that you do not take off your headphones until we give you the all clear.

L: We will do this by saying “you can take off your headphones now”. Stand anywhere you can find a spot and look towards Chris - who will take us through the sounding of the fog horn.

Lisa and Ashleigh stay at the door as people enter. They wait until everyone is in and looking at Chris and then they walk towards the lighthouse.

People put on headphones. Chris to take over the sounding of the horn. We slip away.

In Headphones we say:

A: The foghorn is pretty great isn’t it? Did you feel it in your bones? Did it make you think of a thousand boats safely sailing between England and Wales without crashing into secret sand?

L: Don’t be alarmed. It’s just us. Your guides. The two from before. The two that told you the facts about this lighthouse that you may remember but you’ll probably forget. And that is fine.

A: Of course, the facts are important - they’re the reason this lighthouse is here, what makes it stand tall and shine light so far. Every fifteen seconds of every minute of every day. But this tour isn’t actually about the facts.

L: Up until we got into these headphones all of the words you’ve heard have not been our own. They are the parts of Nash Point’s 180 years that are deemed noteworthy by the writers of history. Or at least the writers of Wikepedia.

A: We want to share with you a different set of stories – stories that belong to us and the people we’ve met. The invisible undocumented stories that make this place real and important and alive. Not in history. But for us. Today. Now.

L:We will guide you with instructions. We will only ask you to participate by looking, walking and listening. If at any point you’re in need of help, just raise your hand and someone will come over to you.

A; If you could make your way to either window on the right hand side of this room – the side that looks out to the lighthouse, that would be lovely.

Familiarity can make spaces invisible to us. This familiarity can be dangerous when what is now hidden has a huge impact on those who travel through and in that space. Like Patients in a hospital.

In Their Shoes was a project that came from years of recording patients and staff and realising how significant this issue is. I designed a story walk made of patient experiences through a hospital - designed for receptionists, nurses and hospital designers. I took this idea to Professor Maggie Kirk (who is a legend) at the Genomics department of the University of South Wales, and together we got the funding from the AHRC to explore the impact this walk could have on empathy.

For more information about Landscape narrative (the inspiration for this work) have a watch of this talk by Dr Misha Myers and Dr Caitlin Desilvey.

Working with Ticky Lowe and Making Sense, I’ve had the joy of being involved in the putting together of reminiscence collections and running sessions in care settings.

These boxes are packed with sensory objects like vintage photos, fabrics, and everyday objects that trigger memories and stories. I’ve seen people light up with stories they haven’t shared in years, all thanks to the right object. It’s been so much fun showing care home staff how to use these boxes to get residents touching, talking and laughing.

I recorded and produced a film for Conwy Culture Centre, all about these reminiscence collections. We filmed at Llys Eilian Care Home, where these boxes and Ticky worked their magic. You can watch the video and find out more about the collection here.

Since 2008, I’ve been putting on events. It started with Scrabble Sunday, which I set up with my friend Paul Barnett at a time we were both looking to meet new people (so thought we’d put on a night we’d like to go to). We began in Shot in the Dark cafe in Cardiff and then took it to festivals across the UK. This led to playing scrabble with Benjamin Partridge, which eventually grew into the Junket Club, a comedy night where we put shows in unusual or suitable venues. Looking back, we had pretty good taste—Josie Long, Joe Lycett, Bridget Christie, John Hegley, Tom Wrigglesworth, James Acaster, Elis James, Isy Suttie, Nick Helm, David Trent, and Josh Widdicombe all performed at some point.

While I loved the comedy, what always mattered to me was the experience for the audience—the invitation, the handmade tickets, the welcome, the snacks. I think that interest in creating a special time for people has always been a thread in my life and work.

Junket Club gave us the chance to book comedy for the Dinefwr Literature Festival and to be part of the Machynlleth Comedy Festival from the very first one. It’s incredible to see where that festival is now. From there, I spent more time at the Edinburgh Fringe, which shifted my interest toward theatre. Eventually, I started booking theatre and art pieces for Machynlleth, with performances by Rachel Mars, Sh!t Theatre, Molly Naylor, Jess Thom, Greg Wohead, and Deborah Pearson.

Now, I mostly put on events in Glyndyfrdwy Village Hall—whether it’s WI nights, children’s film nights, Christmas fairs, or the carnival. My focus has shifted to my local community, but the care and attention I give to snacks remains the same (high quality bourbons still feature).

I still put this experience into my work as a producer, particularly with Immersive Arts. Oh, and I still own 50 Scrabble boards that remain in my shed if anyone wants a game sometime.

As a producer for National Theatre Wales' Things I Forgot I Remembered, in collaboration with Hoipolloi and the brilliant artist Hugh Hughes (the alter-ego of Shôn Dale-Jones), I had the opportunity to create a deeply immersive, community-driven project on the island of Anglesey.

One of my key roles in the project was curating and organising the audio pieces for the story boxes, which were placed in libraries around the island. These boxes contained a collection of audio clips, films, and objects, giving audiences the chance to engage with stories in a tactile and sensory way. This aspect of the project extended the reach of the theatre performance beyond the stage and into the everyday lives of the community.

At the heart of the production was the Story Shop, which I curated in Llangefni. It became a vibrant space where locals could come together to share their personal stories, which were woven into the fabric of the show alongside Hugh Hughes’ own reflections. The community's voices played a key role in shaping the narrative of the production, adding layers of authenticity and local relevance.

The performances took place at Theatr Fach in Llangefni and Ucheldre Centre in Holyhead, where Hugh Hughes blended film, live storytelling, and audio to reflect on themes of childhood, identity, and community. The show’s quirky and heartfelt mission to save the world from disaster added a playful yet poignant dimension, blurring the lines between memory and imagination.

Beyond the stage, Story Walks were organised, guiding audiences through Llangefni while listening to local stories via headsets, further connecting the community to the performance. The project was part of National Theatre Wales' WalesLab initiative, a month-long residency that included collaborations with local artists, gigs, a DIY Festival, and the Anglesey Assembly, a forum for debate and performance.

This project was also the starting point for the Story Shop, a branch of my creative work focused on capturing and sharing community stories in innovative and engaging ways. Working on Things I Forgot I Remembered allowed me to explore how theatre and storytelling can actively involve communities, creating experiences that resonate deeply on both a personal and collective level.

To learn more about Things I Forgot I Remembered, you can explore more articles here and here.

In 2019, I was awarded a Digital Located Residency by National Theatre Wales, funded by the Jerwood Foundation. My goal was to explore the potential of a project connecting Jamaica and Bangor through a unique archive of letters held at Bangor University. Though catalogued, these letters hadn’t been digitized, and for those in Jamaica, the contents remained largely inaccessible—despite their deep historical relevance.

This idea grew out of my experience researching and writing the guidebook for Penrhyn Castle, where I had seen firsthand the power of these archives to illuminate complex histories. During the residency, I delved into the letters, uncovering stories of personal exchange, colonial ties, and the lasting impact on communities across continents. The project sparked conversations with Jamaican artists and historians about the potential to bring these documents into the public domain in a way that bridges the geographical and cultural divide.

The residency inspired a series of public workshops and discussions that examined the ethical responsibilities of holding such archives and explored creative ways to make them accessible. It was a first step toward imagining a shared digital space where voices from both Wales and Jamaica could engage with this archival material. This project underscored the need for accessible, shared historical resources and laid the groundwork for future projects focused on connecting communities with their heritage, no matter the distance.

As the artist in residence at Conwy Library, I worked to capture the rich history of Ysgol Bodlondeb, the site where the Culture Centre and archive now stand. This project was a continuation of my landscape narrative practice, aimed at gathering memories and stories that create a deep connection between people and place.

I set up a story shop in the corridor of the soon-to-close library, inviting community members to share their memories. The response was incredible—over 300 people came through in just five days, each bringing stories, laughter, and sometimes tears. It was a rare and joyful experience to see how many people still felt a connection to Bodlondeb and wanted to share their piece of it.

The stories gathered didn’t just stay in the library. Recordings from our conversations were placed in a bench in the community garden, where visitors can still sit and listen, connecting with voices from the past in a quiet, everyday way.

I worked with Cardiff University’s festival team to gather oral histories and memories for a Music Museum, which launched at Sŵn Festival. The museum was set up in an empty shop, and it came alive with records, memories, gig tickets, t-shirts—items that connected people to their musical past. Seeing these things on show really reinforced how much music is a shared language.

The stories we captured, alongside these artefacts, showed how deeply music runs through people’s lives. It made us all feel like this project is something we’d love to take further. Working with Cardiff University and Sŵn Festival on this felt like the start of something bigger.

I really like taking pictures. I take so many pictures that there’s usually some that work out quite well even if I’m not wholly certain of the f stop.

I use photography in all of my projects, even if the end result is only sound. It helps me work things out and see things differently. Shapes and colours and curiosities are the things that grab me most, but I also like taking pictures of people. They’re often curiosities too.

My pictures have been used as press shots and taken on purpose for shows and artists, like this one for Molly Naylor - but in some (most) cases, they’ve been chosen because I happen to have lots of photos of the artist in question and they only have five minutes until a deadline.

I would like to do more of the taking pictures on purpose, so let me know if you fancy a good time in Eryri (or elsewhere).

In the past I’ve shared lots of pictures on Instagram. I gave that up a few years ago because of this - I miss the photos and the connection, but on balance, I’m happier without its constant thread in my head. I mainly take photos on my phone these days, but I do have a nice camera that does f stops too.

The first digital story I created was My Two Nains, made as part of the BBC Capture Wales project. India Rakusen wrote beautifully about this experience, explaining how the story explores love, memory, and loss through my relationship with my two grandmothers.

With the support of Carwyn Evans, I made the story you can see in that link above - and it led to profound conversations with my family about my Nain’s Alzheimer’s. We talked not just about her care but how we felt about losing our nain (and mam) as she lost her memories, which we had never done before.

This story marked the beginning of my now twenty year career in helping others share their own narratives, knowing how powerful that process can be.

The form began with Dana Winslow Atchley III (i would recommend watching Turn…it’s so beautiful) and was brought to Wales by Daniel Meadows (watch EVERYTHING). This form and its ethics remain at the heart of my work, every day.

Coming soon…to all of us. Best make the most of it eh?