The Laundromat Project is seeking volunteers looking for fun ways to make art accessible in New York City. We offer a wide range of opportunities, from helping at special events to aiding teaching artists at art workshops and assisting staff in The LP office. Benefits of working with us include:
Networking and socializing with other talented volunteers
Helping to promote public art and art education
Learning new art techniques and making art projects
Fostering creative expression among program participants
Building a sense of community in New York City neighborhoods
To sign up for volunteer opportunities with The LP, fill out the brief application form below. Please understand that submitting an application for volunteering does not guarantee a position. We are only able to contact those candidates whose skills and background best fit the needs of the volunteer opportunities. Once your application has been processed, we will contact you should a position become available.
Before calls to create diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives in cultural institutions became ubiquitous following the racial uprisings of 2020, The Laundromat Project (The LP) lived as an organization committed to centering the voices, cultures, imaginations, knowledge, and leadership of people of color (POC).
“Since its founding in 2005, the Laundromat Project has funded more than 80 public art projects across New York, through residencies and grants for a growing roster of 200-plus artists. These include storytelling workshops conducted by Betty Yu out of a coin wash in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, where the artist grew up, and an outdoor living room for conversations on community safety, led by artist Ro Garrido, in Jackson Heights, Queens.
The impact of these unifying efforts can be traced through dozens of neighborhoods citywide. But it is in Bedford-Stuyvesant in Brooklyn where the arts non-profit has its deepest roots and connections, and where it has been building a new home and an alternative vision of an art space.
In 2020, it signed a 10-year lease on a storefront on bustling Fulton Street, gathering all its operations at one site for the first time since the project’s foundation. The space—purposefully not a gallery—is in a historically Black neighborhood, emphasizing the staff’s commitment to programming that is responsive to the community, particularly for Black residents and other people of color.”
“The Laundromat Project was founded two decades ago at a kitchen table on MacDonough Street in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, when Risë Wilson received her first grant money to make art experiences accessible to her neighbors — miles away and a world apart from gatekeeper institutions like the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Museum of Modern Art.“
What does community building and affirmation look like in the ballroom scene? Tune in to a special Pride Month edition of The LP Documents podcast featuring Create Change artists and ballroom performers Sydney Baloue (2020) and Samer RIDIKKULUZ (2021), who spoke about chosen family, queer visibility, and personal confidence.
As an Artist-in-Residence with The LP, Leslie Jiménez facilitated a series of collaborative art-making workshops with families in the Sugar Hill section of Harlem. During the gatherings, community members created illustrated books of drawings inspired by memories and experiences in their neighborhood.
The workshops culminated in a large-scale interactive installation featuring the illustrated book drawings and larger than life, diorama-like versions of the drawings, as interpreted by the artist. A World Inside Drawing celebrates community members and familial neighborhood spaces, and it acts as a sanctuary, where neighbors can literally see themselves inside their own creations.
In the midst of an era fueled by generalizations and incendiary rhetoric, how do we share immigrant stories in a way that is reflective and representative of their complexity and humanity? Created by LP Artist-in-Residence Lizania Cruz, We the News amplifies these unique stories through a pop-up physical newsstand. The newsstand is filled with bilingual zines created by immigrants affiliated with local partnering organizations. Historically, zines have been a medium of communication within subcultures and a tool in activist movements and organizing. Via zines that focus on stories of traditions and rituals, Lizania co-creates spaces of sanctuary through the use of language, personifying the role words and messages play in uniting, empowering, and building community.
Curated by The LP Staff in June 2020 during global protests in defense of Black lives, this playlist manifests Black joy and Black liberation. Enjoy! #BlackLifeEternal
In this voicemail style, call-in episode, Laundromat Project Artist Engagement Manager Ladi’Sasha Jones and Programs Director Hatuey Ramos-Fermín listen to stories and reflections from Create Change Fellows on what connection and affirmation has looked like for them during the COVID-19 pandemic.
In our final episode of 2021, hear a conversation between LP Executive Director Kemi Ilesanmi and Radical Imagination Fellow Piper Anderson on abolition, mental health, rethinking carceral approaches to harm, and more. Piper discusses her personal journey to abolition work, and projects Mass Story Lab and Rikers Public Memory Project, which use storytelling as a tool to address and name the injustice of the prison system.
For more on narrative justice, watch Abolitionist Storywork, a program curated by Piper and featuring practitioners of oral history, community archive development, and an interdisciplinary range of narrative justice strategies to create community care, safety, and liberation.
As Create Change Artists-in-Residence, the collective Chinatown Art Brigade launched Here to Stay: Housing for the People Mapping Project. A collaborative, critical mapping project centering place-keeping efforts in Chinatown and the Lower East Side, Here to Stay aimed to protect and preserve these historic neighborhoods. In 2020, the group organized Coast 2 Coast Chinatown Convening in New York, a weekend for artists and organizers from Chinatowns across the US and Canada to come together and share their work, strategies, and stories.
Katherine Toukhy fluidly combines historical, subjective, and archetypal imagery in her forms, collapsing time and place, as a woman of the Egyptian diaspora. Liberation stories feed and manifest in the figurative works she creates. As a commissioned artist for 100 Years |100 Women, Toukhy integrated colonial and Black liberation narratives into her pieces.
Katherine Toukhy is a Laundromat Project Create Change alum and commissioned artist for the Park Avenue Armory’s 100 Years | 100 Women project. Learn more about 100 Years | 100 Women and explore the archive here.
The Fulton Street window commission is a yearly project where The Laundromat Project commissions a 2-D image or illustration from a local artist. The vinyl artwork lives on the public-facing window of The LP’s office at 1476 Fulton Street in Brooklyn for one calendar year, creating an outdoor art installation that engages neighbors and passersby. Destiny Belgrave is the inaugural artist to create artwork for this commission. Her piece, titled “They Hold Me,” depicts care and belonging through the embrace of an ancestor. We reached out to Destiny with some questions to hear more about her creative practice and the inspirations that influence her work.
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The Laundromat Project:Tell us a little bit about yourself. Where are the places and people that ground you and your work?
Destiny Belgrave: I’m Destiny Belgrave, I spent most of my childhood in Crown Heights and Bed-Stuy. I am of Bajan and African American backgrounds and I identify as bicultural. I love food and love exploring through what I can consume. For me, I am grounded through the spiritual and familial. My family, ancestry, cultures, collective memory, and the lands that I call home all give myself and my work a foundation to stand on.
Daddy, 2019, Papercut
The Laundromat Project: Tell us a little bit about yourself. Where are the places and people that ground you and your work?
DB: I’m Destiny Belgrave, I spent most of my childhood in Crown Heights and Bed-Stuy. I am of Bajan and African American backgrounds and I identify as bicultural. I love food and love exploring through what I can consume. For me, I am grounded through the spiritual and familial. My family, ancestry, cultures, collective memory, and the lands that I call home all give myself and my work a foundation to stand on.
LP: You work in a variety of mediums but your work in cut paper and collage really stands out. What about that medium speaks to you and how did you come to it?
DB: I happened upon papercuts and collage by happenstance. I’ve enjoyed collage in the past in high school, but didn’t really think much of it. Fast forward to college and I’m primarily working with digital media, but also thinking in my mind about how I’d like to move away from it a bit and work more traditionally, you know, just in case technology stops being accessible to me. Lo and behold, my computer quits on me and I now have to make work without it. I suddenly have to actually figure this out. From there I just made a mixed media piece using paper, and I kept exploring paper, and now here I am.
The more I worked in paper, the more I realized I love paper. It’s a timeless medium, for years it’s been used to record history, tales and traditions. I use paper for the same things, but for my own loved ones—recording our collective memories, experiences and histories. What I also love about paper is its flexibility and just how many amazing types of textures, colors, and appearances it can have. I’m a bit of a perfectionist, and the lines and forms that I can get from cutting paper are so clean and gorgeous: sharper than what I could do with pencil, paint, etc.
Basically, paper is amazing.
LP: Themes of family, care, and spirituality run throughout your work and are illustrated in a very figurative way. What are some of the influences or inspirations for your focus and how you choose to draw your subjects?
DB: I use family photos, my own memories, family members’ memories, and intuition to make my work. Whatever feels particularly compelling from those sources, I’ll build off of. Like if I find a photo that makes me feel really warm and fuzzy, or it’s composed really nicely, or if my mother tells me a story about her mother and it moves me, then I’ll make something using that. Essentially everything starts from a familial image, memory, or tale that moves me in some sort of way. I have to feel something and be connected to what I’m referencing in the work.
LP:Your illustration for the window of the The Laundromat Project building on Fulton Street talks about ancestral love and support, how the idea of togetherness and bonding is a birthright for yourself and others. What is your advice for people wishing to cultivate more of this in their lives?
DB: Start small. These are very big grand concepts that can be overwhelming for someone. I would say get in tune with yourself a bit and extend outwards. Learn to bond with your body and spirit, and find individuals that feel good to be around. Every person you meet won’t be your close BFF, and that’s OK. Don’t force folks to fit into a mold, it’s OK to search for the bonds you want, but don’t force it.
LP: What do you love about Bed-Stuy?
DB: Bed-Stuy has a place in my heart: I remember it from what I experienced in my youth up until young adulthood. I loved the diversity and authenticity of the people and neighborhood. The mixing and mingling of different Black and brown cultures and peoples. Cheap yet filling ethnic foods, kids playing in the fire hydrants, hanging out on the stoop. Beautiful brownstones, neighborhood gardens. I definitely have a nostalgic view of Bed-Stuy, things are changing [now] and it saddens me, but I still got a lot of love for Bed-Stuy.
LP: What are you working on right now? How can people stay in touch with you?
DB: I have three shows in September, one at Future Fair, another at AIR Gallery and a third at Monique Meloche in Chicago. It’s been a busy time, I’m looking forward to treating myself and thanking my body properly after all of this. You can keep up with me through my Instagram @destinybelgrave and subscribing to my mailing list through my website at destinybelgrave.com.
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Destiny Belgrave (b.1996) was born and raised in Brooklyn NY and nurtured with a Bajan and African American upbringing. Belgrave graduated from the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) in 2018 with a BFA in General Fine Arts, and a concentration in Painting. Since then her work has been shown locally and internationally. Currently she is an A.I.R. Gallery Fellow and a resident of the BRIClab: Contemporary Art Residency. Belgrave is a mixed media whirlwind, almost always using papercuts as her primary medium and family as a source of inspiration.
In every aspect of our work, The Laundromat Project channels our belief that in an abundant community, we lift one another up, we reciprocate, and when we come into good fortune, we pay it forward.
In that spirit, we’re excited to share that our annual People-Powered Challenge will look a little different this year. While typically the challenge is a peer-to-peer fundraiser, this year we are fortunate to have received a generous gift from MacKenzie Scott and Dan Jewett, so we’re choosing to spread the love.
We wouldn’t be where we are today without the greater ecosystem of creative organizations, partners, and individuals who believe in the catalytic power of art and community. Next week, we will support and celebrate 5 grassroots entities working to create change in their own communities with a no-strings-attached award of $10,000 each from The LP!
From October 25–29, join us for People-Powered Pay-it-Forward to be as inspired as we are by their incredible work.
Kelly Street Garden uses food and culture as the entry point to healing their community. The garden functions as a vehicle for addressing generational trauma which has caused many health disparities resulting from systemic racism. Make a contribution to Kelly Street—select Kelly Street Garden in the Citizen Action Groups dropdown menu. Follow on social media: @kellystgreen.
The W.O.W. Project is a women, non-binary, queer, trans led, community-based initiative that works to sustain ownership over Chinatown Manhattan’s future by growing, protecting and preserving Chinatown’s creative culture through arts, culture and activism. Support W.O.W. Project. Follow them on social media @wowprojectnyc.
The Literary Freedom Project (LFP) is committed to creating spaces that help elevate cultural narratives. Their programs value the variety of histories and cultures found in the Bronx and give educators & residents places to build community and explore social engagement. Support LFP. Follow them on social media @literaryfreedomproject.
BlackSpace bridges gaps between people, place, and power to realize racial justice with Black communities. Working on a national scale, they manifest justice through design and urban planning. Donate to BlackSpace. Follow them on social media @blackspaceorg.
STooPS connects the Bed-Stuy neighborhood with a big ol’ block party, classes, and opportunities for artistic expression in unconventional spaces—to make art accessible while honoring the local and valuing creators. Support STooPS. Follow them on social media @stoopsbedstuy.
Gabrielle joined The LP team as our Interim Director of Programs in January 2022 and will be contributing to our community engagement efforts, artist development programming, and other initiatives. Get to know more about Gabrielle below!
In what neighborhood do you live?
Washington Heights
How did you first become connected to The LP, or hear about The LP?
My relationship with The LP is a long one! I first got to know The LP in 2014 after I’d created a curriculum based on the work of poet Sekou Sundiata with MAPP International, and The LP reached out to work with me on a curriculum they were creating. Since then, there are so many collaborations—from bringing my students to The LP’s home on Kelly Street to interviewing Kemi [Ilesanmi, Executive Director] & Petrushka [Bazin-Larsen, The LP’s first Director of Programs] for my “Working with People” project, to leading the organization through its strategic planning process, all of which have been highlights of my work.
Do you have your own creative practice? If so, tell us more!
I’m a photographer and writer, and I run an interdisciplinary practice with my partner Kaushik Panchal, called Buscada. We make projects—exhibitions, public art engagements, books, and events—that create vital spaces for dialogue by fusing arts, design, and research. We often collaborate with community in contested neighborhoods with the goal of fostering more just cities. My book, Contested City, is about one of our long-time projects with housing activists on the Lower East Side.
Can you tell us about an artist or project that has inspired you?
I’m inspired by the artists I grew up around, starting with my mom, Winnie Bendiner-Viani, who’s a visual artist, and my grandfather, Elmer Bendiner, who was a writer, and extending to the people who I grew up with as family: most especially painter Jack Whitten and poet Hettie Jones. My dad Paul Viani inspired me to make photographs. The photographic work of artists like Carrie Mae Weems, Roy de Carava, and Gabriele Basilico helped me think about photographs as poems, as storytellers about place and people.
What is your favorite… film? …album? …food?
My favorite album is Horace Silver’s The Cape Verdean Blues. My favorite food is Kaushik’s chicken curry.
Where do you do your laundry?
The basement of our apartment building.
In your opinion, why does art matter?
Art matters because it helps us ask new questions and have necessary conversations.
What LP value do you most relate to and why?
I’m invested in all of the values of The LP—engaging deeply with what it means to “Be POC Centered,” for example, has reshaped the way I’ve thought about not just The LP, but about radical possibilities in other organizations I’m part of—from institutions of higher ed, to the DEI committee at my son’s public school. But, in this particular moment of The LP’s work, I am especially excited about “Value Place,” and to be helping the organization think though its process of grounding itself in Bed-Stuy. The layered meaning of neighborhoods, and the way arts practices can honor and understand these, is central to everything I do.
Artist, curator, and urbanist Dr. Gabrielle Bendiner-Viani is founder of Buscada, which creates vital spaces for dialogue to foster more just cities by fusing art, design, and research. She is author of Contested City: Art and Public History as Mediation at New York’s Seward Park Urban Renewal Area (University of Iowa Press, 2019)—finalist for the Municipal Art Society’s Brendan Gill Prize—and teaches urban studies at Bryn Mawr College & the New School. Gabrielle’s creative practice has been shown at MIT, Brooklyn Public Library, the Center for Architecture, Artists Alliance, the Sheila C. Johnson Design Center, and Tate Britain. She is a life-long New Yorker.
Giovannah Philippeaux, Development & Communications Intern (CUNY Cultural Corps), had the unique pleasure of getting to know Bronx-artist and LP neighbor Sajata Epps at her live/work studio. Over a home-cooked meal and a pot of traditional rice tea, Giovannah and Sajata talked about community, art practice, and the importance of creative collaboration. As they spoke, Giovannah learned more about Sajata’s transformative trip through Asia and how those experiences have informed her art and community practices.
Sajata Epps, or SAJATA-E as she is known to many, is a cultivator of the Earth, a cultivator of crafts, and a cultivator of creative collaboration. As a native Bronxite, Sajata’s experiences reflect the richness and diversity of this borough. For Sajata, to be from and of the Bronx is different than being a New Yorker. As she proclaims, the Bronx “has its own culture,” a culture steeped in creative collaboration.
“When you are born in the Bronx, which is multi-diverse, you grow up with a culturally diverse background. As a Bronxite, you are a mix of everything that makes up the Bronx.”
Sajata Epps
Imagine being able to knit at the age of six, and sewing your first dress by the age of twelve. This early interest in creative expression led Sajata to pursue a degree in fashion design from the Wood Tobé-Coburn School in New York. While working in the industry for some of New York’s top brands, Sajata began to notice the extensive waste that plagues the industry. Displeased with these practices, she began to integrate sustainable practices into her work, life, and art. SAJATA-E has been running her design practice in the Bronx for the last 20 years. Driven by her passion for sustainable living, she has sought to share her knowledge with her local Bronx community.
In 2014, she helped co-found the Kelly Street Garden, a community organization that The Laundromat Project (The LP) has been collaborating with since the summer of 2014 to bring engaging creative events and programs to the historic neighborhood. It is through one such creative event that Sajata met Roslisham Ismail better known as Ise, who would introduce her to The Asian Cultural Council.
The Asian Cultural Council is dedicated to cross-cultural exchange and dialogue through art. The Council awards grants to artists and scholars, such as Ise and Sajata, to travel from: Asia to the U.S., the U.S. to Asia, or intra-Asia. The grant provides funding, program and logistics support, and mentoring to the grantees.
As a 2015 Asian Cultural Council grantee, Ise was in the U.S. to connect with other artists, expand his practice, and engage with local communities. After a studio visit with Hatuey Ramos-Fermin, Director of Programs for The LP, Ise was invited to spend some time at the Kelly Street Collaborative. His project, The Self Help Open Space Project, was inspired by the history of Kelly Street and broader South Bronx community. In 1978, Kelly Street residents banded together to rehabilitate their homes and neighborhood. Ise’s commemoration of this historic event was a one-day community gathering that centered around the preparation and sharing of an old Malay recipe for Nasi Kerabu, or blue rice and the making of a zine in collaboration with local photographer and community leader, Robert Foster along with Jennifer “Hopey” Foster. At the gathering, Sajata presented on the color changing properties of the butterfly pea flower when used as a natural dyeing agent.
Destinee Forbes, Storytelling Fellow, met with artist, scholar, and cultural strategist and organizer, Ebony Noelle Golden, on a hot and humid summer afternoon at the Hemispheric Institute for Performance and Politics in the East Village. Destinee arrived a few minutes before the Houston, TX native who now lives and works in NYC in hopes of setting up and reflecting on Golden’s most recent live art performance piece, 125th & FREEdom presented by National Black Theatre’s Soul Directing Residency. Upon entering the building Destinee announced herself to the guard on duty and said she was there to see, “Ebony Noelle Golden, [founder of] Betty’s Daughter Arts Collaborative”. He responded with a laugh and his body relaxed into his chair. He said, “For Ebony? Of course! Just head on up.” Destinee smiled and headed toward the elevator doors filled with a sense of gratitude and excitement to have a conversation about cultural organizing and decentering one’s art practice with an individual who is so well-respected, adored and who is also known as the soul of The Laundromat Project’s Create Change Fellowship Program.
Destinee: I want to start off by congratulating you on the success of 125th and FREEdom!
Ebony: Thank you.
D: I think that’s really amazing– I remember when I was trying to get in touch with you a few months ago to coordinate the first art and pedagogy interview you were so busy! However, I didn’t realize just how busy you were until I read the press release for the show and on it you were credited as the writer, director, choreography, etc.
E: It’s more than a notion, as my mom would say, to do all of these things.
D: That’s really incredible – congrats with all of that.
E: Thank you. It’s really an honor to be doing the work.
D: Most definitely. So you are a dancer first, right? You started off with dance?
E: Yeah – At this point in my life I just identify as a creative, and for me that title is a way for me to be more expansive in how I do my work and define myself. I have other things that I do – I’m a strategist, an entrepreneur, I teach, I do identify as a public scholar. But really all of it is about creativity for me, it really is. I started out studying dance as a child and I’ve been asked this question a lot of times. I do feel like it’s important for me to say that studying dance in school felt like an extension of the way I was raised. I was raised by a creative mom in a creative family where music was always playing. This is a normal story for artists; music always playing, books in the house, dancing all the time. My creativity and my artistic ability was definitely encouraged.
I’ve just always been in a bigger body, and it became clear that there was this division between what the standard dancer body is and what my body is – and that has always been the case. This actually is a foundation for how I see the world. There is the standard and then there is what I see and how I’m moving. That has been sometimes a huge tension in my life and sometimes a huge opportunity. Dance is a thing.
I’ve left being a practicing artist many times for many reasons: to start a business, to go to graduate school, because of a relationship, but there really isn’t a way for me to be human in the world unless I’m moving – as long as I am in this world I need to be moving. I am moving, I’m always moving, but I also need to be dancing and I need to be facilitating dance as a choreographer, and I need to be making art. It doesn’t matter what else I’m doing. That way of coming into the world and seeing the world as an embodied practice, understanding the world as an embodied practice is never really going to go away.
D: That’s really interesting, this idea of understanding through embodiment. To be so expressive through the body and the need to use the body as a medium for expression requires an acknowledgement of the relationship between spiritual and political – to insert the body in certain spaces or move it in different ways can be seen as a political act especially when it deviates from the norm, or standard. How did you approach reconciling this relationship through movement?
E: I do think that my body in the dance classroom was politicized before I politicized it, and before it became a practice of resistance for me to dance. I don’t think that I ever woke up as a young person, or as a young adult, and said I will dance in spite of. I don’t think I was dancing for political reasons at first. I’m definitely dancing for political and spiritual reasons now. I knew then that I had a special gift – not that I thought I was a better dancer, but that I had a talent. That type of self-awareness for a young black girl in the hood who’s not training at Houston Ballet, but taking dance classes at school and in the community is significant. It’s significant, and in hindsight, looking back on it, definitely political, definitely spiritual. I mean I was just in a room with grown women who were older than me yesterday and they were talking about how they used to dance – they no longer dance – and you can tell by the way they look. So I think the larger environment imposes these standards and puts a politic on practice that I did not initially put on myself. I definitely know that moving my body is a political statement. Moving my body on stages and public spaces is a political statement. I definitely know what it feels like to not do that, and what it does to me and what it does to anyone who’s around me. And I know when I am doing that, that I have a clearer insight into everything––both in the positive and in the tense or challenging. I’m able to understand better when I am in this creative practice.
D: So it amplifies everything that you do. Even the other things that you’re doing like being a teacher and a cultural organizer.
E: That’s right. I often say this, and if I’m not clear about anything else in the course of this interview, it is that if I don’t dance, if I don’t make art. I can’t do anything else. My wellness is dependent on my art making. It is not some grand notion of being on Broadway or just making art to make art, or to make a lot of money making art. It is ultimately very, very personal – it’s for my wellness first. The first, the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth reason why I’m making art is for me. I might be telling stories that other people can attach to, that other people can relate to, but if it does not bring me the type of understanding that I need about what it means to be well in this world then it really doesn’t matter.
D: I want to know a bit more I want to know about your history as a community organizer and teacher in relation to your relationship with The LP.
E: I’ve been a teacher for a while and I’ve taught in many different places. I’ve taught in DC, I’ve taught in North Carolina, I’ve taught in Texas, I’ve taught here [New York]. My work as an artist, as a teacher, as a cultural organizer, are all one breath and that’s important for me. I am not dividing up my practice in any way. This is sometimes challenging because people think that you must do one thing, and if you’re going to do anything well you must focus, but all of these things are my focus. For me, the question is: how do I bring all of the sides of who I am into whatever I do? As a cultural organizer and as a person who builds strategy rooted in what people do, I need to do. I need to lift up the everyday ways of folks in order to understand. You know, lift up, study, be engaged in order to build strategies that are about affirming people and their culture, and what they do and how they do it.
I was hired as a consultant after a friend of mine mentioned that The LP was hiring and recommended I apply. The real beauty of this opportunity was that I’ve been able to grow as an artist, as an educator, as a strategist, as an entrepreneur because The Laundromat Project has invested in me. For me at this point it’s much more than client/consultant relationships with The Laundromat Project. That language doesn’t really resonate, and I think that is because the people who brought me in, Kemi, Petrushka, and Risë¹, are people who want to go beyond the standard. They create standards.
¹Destinee Forbes: Here, Ebony makes reference to The LP’s founder, Risë Wilson, The LP’s Executive Director Kemi Ilesanmi and the former Director of Programs at The LP Petrushka Bazin Larsen, who is also the co-founder of Sugar Hill Creamery in Harlem.
So initially the first thing that Kemi asked me to do was to come in and do a bunch of interviews and site visits and sit with people and talk with people and use that information to come up with a report that really highlights how the organization should best move forward in its cultural organizing practice. To have an organization invest in you and your creative growth is inspiring and makes me want to do more for that organization. At the root of being an artist, an organizer, an educator, you want to give the most you can. I did that. I got to see such good work, I got to ask such deep questions, I was all over the city, and I basically reported back to the organization – and this is a standard kind of recommendation report with best practices and learnings and so on and so forth. But I was able to do this with an eye on all of the information I have been taught.
To be a cultural organizer is to embody that practice in such a way that, again, everything that you touch and everything that touches you is relevant. The mentality from which I work is the triad model of thinking about art and culture, policy and practice, and wellness and transformation. The idea is holistic sustainability of a community. Working for legislation and everyday practices that support the holistic sustainability of a people, of a community. If an organization can move with that in mind we’re in a good place. If The Laundromat Project can continue to think about the holistic sustainability of the communities it reaches, it impacts, and is accountable to, then they understand cultural organizing.
D: From your words and expressions I sense such love. When you said when an organization supports you wholly it inspires you to want to do more, to want to give back… to want to give back that love. And like you said, not many people get to experience that, and I think that’s beautiful.
E: Yes, Completely.
D: So, you mentioned this in regard to your own philosophy as a creative, but why is it integral for artists, especially artists coming through the Create Change program, to have these strategies, or to have the mindset of having a holistic practice when creating art that’s related to community engagement?
E: It just depends on what the artist wants to do in terms of the impact of their work and their energy and their resources and their life force, to be honest. The arts industry, the arts field in New York City, has a lot of people and a lot of interests tugging and pulling on the artists, right? And you do have to decide what your true north is. You have to decide what your core values are. You have to decide what and to whom you are accountable. I think, and what I’ve said over the years, is that artists have to consider their studio practice and their community practice and what values translate those spaces. I often also say that cultural organizing and working as an artist through a lens of cultural organizing is an attunement – it is a way. And sometimes you may not be moving in that way — you may not be sometimes, but you want to have a diverse skill set if you want to reach a diverse group of people.
Cultural organizing, when I first started getting into it 12-13 years ago wasn’t a popular thing. It was coming from very specific organizations and very specific leaders in the field who would not stop using the language, who would not stop talking about intersectionality, of cultural wellness, public health, art, politics, and would not stop. And it is not the same as arts activism – It is just not the same. So these things kind of get all conflated and then it’s up to the artist to distill.
And I think for me working with The LP has provided a way for me to even learn how to distill this information and to share it with other practitioners from the perspective of not forcing, but sharing. Offering an experience through what was Field Day², through the coaching, through all of the different ways in which cultural organizing can be explored, and then seeing how they reflect the pedagogy. And some of them go on to do extremely powerful work because they’ve decided to lean into this direction or into this way of working.
²Destinee Forbes: Field Day was a free public event initiated in 2013. The event served as The LP’s annual festival of neighborhoods showcasing arts and culture and celebrating community in Bed-Stuy, Harlem, and Hunts Point/ Longwood. It was at the Field Day festival where Create Change fellows would activate their group projects with larger audiences in and around our anchor communities.
D: After having conversations with Petrushka [Bazin Larsen], Hatuey [Ramos Fermín], Ladi’Sasha [Jones] and Kemi [Ilesanmi] about the formation, growth, and codification of The LP’s Create Change program one thing that I have been taking away from those conversations is the emphasis on decentering one’s art practice, which it seems you also agree that this type of work is required of artists engaging in this work.
E: Totally.
D: Can you speak more on the idea of decentering one’s art practice, and why that is so important?
E: From the self?
D: Yes.
E: Decentering the self in the art practice? Is that what the question is?
D: Let me think about it. Yeah, I guess so.
E: Like I shared, the art that I make is about me first. I’m not looking at the world without looking at myself first. And I do think as a black woman, I need to see the world through myself. Having a deep understanding of who I am through what I make is important. It’s not the only reason why I make, it’s not the only approach to making, but for me it has become – I’ve become very reflective and I do think that my art practice allows me to do that. My teaching practice allows me to do that as well. I don’t teach things that I don’t have a connection to. I don’t make art about things I don’t have a connection to, and I don’t consult with organizations I don’t have a connection to.
To get to this point in relationship to what Petrushka was saying about decentering one’s art practice within the cultural organizing methodology – the first step in understanding this is as one of my teachers, Tufara Waller Muhammad³ said, “it ain’t about you, boo.” So the practice that we’re doing when we are in community moves us from us. When we’re working in community we have to know that the community is as important as we are, and we have to move with the understanding that if we’re a community engaged artist, if we’re a socially engaged artist, we need to step out of the center. So whatever work you need to do to honor who you are and center yourself, do it, but once you step into community, not that you need to treat yourself like trash but you need to understand that the center of a community engaged process is the community. This is a hard thing for some people to understand. And I won’t move on it. Cultural organizing as a practice, as a pedagogy, as an artistic methodology, de-centers the self. It de-centers the ego and allows for there to be a collaborative connection with community.
³Destinee Forbes: Tufara Waller Muhammad is a cultural organzier and strategist from Little Rock, Arkansaa with roots in Fort Worth, Texas. Muhammad uses art to empower and inspire activism. She coordinated cultural programs at Highlander Research and Education Center from 2004 to 2015. She also is a member of Alternate Roots and served on the Executive Committee.
D: Right, because it is not about creating art that’s in a vacuum. That’s so important. In my opinion all art produced should have that mentality and framework.
E: Oh, well. Some people would fight you on that.
D: That’s true.
E: I will say that… Some people will fight you on that. But, if you want to engage, sure.
D: Well, only if the ego surrenders, right? – I think that’s a question of the ego coming in again.
E: It totally is. I don’t disagree with you. I do think in terms of this question [about decentering] in relation to my work in terms of education, and I think that coaching and consulting – I think that consulting is a way of being like a teacher. I’ve come to understand my work with organizations as a teaching and learning exchange. Working with the Create Change artists is definitely a teaching and learning opportunity, but again it’s collaborative. I sit down with the staff and I ask them what do you want me to teach under the umbrella or under the auspices of cultural organizing? And depending on what it is we call people in, we develop kind of a two-day or three-day curriculum with resources – like the mapping tool kit – and activities and discussion prompts. All of that because this thing about pedagogy is super, super important. And scaffolding information using cultural practices, using popular education practices, using intentional dialogic practices is super important.
Doing this has allowed me to build residencies, to build curricula, to build tool kits in collaboration with other consultants and teaching artists and staff. I have trained the teaching artists, the commissioned artists, the fellows. I have sat with incoming staff members. I have provided resources and have been a listening ear for the organization. So yeah, I’ve been in it, and still doing it all through collaboration, liberation, listening, deep listening, and learning exchange. Now, another way I’ve come to think about my work with The LP, and with other organizations to be honest, is through the lens of strategic partnership. The organizations that I work with provide certain aspects and elements that make the partnership go. And I do too, or my team does. It’s reciprocal. I just think that the idea — I’m coming away from the idea that you give more than you get and that we all can just move with the shared resources that each partner brings to the table and allows us to move forward with justice at the center and at the core of the way we engage each other.
D: I want to go back to the topic of creating curricula and that process for you, especially in relation to the theme of abundance we have this year. So I was wondering what was that process like for you? How did you approach building a framework for abundance?
E: Approaching abundance. Well, I asked them what do you sense? What does abundance mean for The LP? Why? And so again, coming up with this way of weaving abundance into the conversation, into the facilitation, was starting with listening. Here’s the thing. Everyone is talking about abundance.
D: Really?
E: Not just here in New York City. But some are. And so I was like OK, I am actually invested in this conversation so how are we going to build a space for folks to really talk about abundance?
There are certain things that I do with an organization which is about building a facilitation plan. My team did research, we came up with resources about abundance, we looked at what The LP already was doing and has done in the past that affirmed abundance, and we used cultural practices and discussion prompts to get people building out what they understand abundance to be. I’ve been doing this work with The LP for so long that we have a template for how the cultural organizing intensive should go, and we can take out – this is what it means to really be investing in working together. The Create Change program is a flagship arts training program. It’s a flagship arts professional development program. Being able to come back to it as a teacher and then as a learner, being able to look at this idea of cultural organizing from many different angles and themes offers a tremendous learning experience.
My work is to listen to what The LP is saying about how the model needs to be activated, and then following through. That’s what I do as a teacher – asking, “What needs to be taught?” I would say there is some meditation that I do around how I’m going to engage with folks, and I will say that the meditation on abundance is very political. We’re living in a time where people don’t feel like they have access. Some people don’t have access. So the idea of abundance in spite of had to become an embodied meditation. So I was thinking about how is joy a practice of abundance? How is art a practice of abundance? How is breath a practice of abundance? How is being in and of community a practice of abundance? How is being seen by your community, visible in your community, a practice of abundance? All of these often get ignored when talking about abundance.
D: Yeah, exactly. So focusing more on what you have, instead of the have-nots and feeling whole within ourselves, which relates to Grace Lee Boggs’ quote, “We are the leaders we’ve been looking for.” Her words were a big source of inspiration for The LP’s theme of abundance. However, it’s interesting to hear how you get to that point through engaging in the topic through meditation.
E: Yes, and through art making and through living a life where I grapple with access and where I experience abundance, and where I am paying attention to the people who don’t feel abundant. Again, it’s people-work. It’s deep listening. It’s being in the practice of community, not just around people, but in the practice of community. And again, at this point in my life I am blessed and very grateful to be doing work that is connected, grounded, purposeful, impactful to me and to other people.
D: In “The Alchemy of Abundance” facilitation you had with the 2019 Create Change fellow cohort, what was it like trying to create and apply a framework of abundance to their practice?
E: The thing about having these types of conversations with people sitting in a room is that you don’t know where people are coming from, you don’t know the struggles that they’ve had, and everyone has a particular and personal journey to the concept. The way that I try to craft the experience is to keep it broad enough so people don’t get backed into a corner by thinking, “I’m not abundant because etc…” The idea really was to weave together a collective understanding of abundance that’s rooted in community power, and not in capitalism. All the fellows knew the theme and the topic before we began the facilitation so the idea was to not absorb where people were struggling, but to help people journey. I definitely was careful, with building a space for shared understanding and shared definitions. So that by the end of the weekend we had gotten super clear about what abundance means to us and how to build and work in community through an abundance mindset, framework, and practice.
It was a big journey and it was a big weekend, but we were able to journey together. To have the space to be visionary was very critical and important, and I think one of the reasons why maybe there wasn’t as much struggle with [conceptualizing the theme] is because we came into the room having already peppered the pot with the idea that we are abundant by default. We need to live in our current practice of abundance, as challenging as that may be, as challenging as that may feel, and we need to continue visioning around abundance, visioning what we see, what we want to see, what we want to live, what we want to have, how we want to move – it’s inspiring. It brings breath into the room. It brings joy into the room. It brings hope into the room. It brings creativity into the room. And this is something that I’ve been talking about in my rehearsal rooms as well as with clients, we know how to fight – most of us – but how many of us have the stamina to be in the continuous practice of visioning the life, the world that we want to live?
Talking about abundance can be a struggle for some people and not a way to vision, and I think ultimately in the facilitation of “The Alchemy of Abundance” intensive the alchemy is in the changing of that conversation. The alchemy is the thinking that anything can be changed to gold.
D: How do those outside of the Create Change program activate this philosophy of abundance?
E: By activating the muscle. We need to activate the memory. We need to activate the legacy of abundance that comes from many of our communities, and we need to build, strategize and collaborate and work from there. One of the most revolutionary and innovative things we can do is remember. What would it be like if we could remember and activate all the ways in which our communities have practiced abundance? What would our communities, our cities, our countries, our world be like if we moved from capitalist ideology that some people should have more and others less – to believing everybody is abundant and we have everything we need. What if we really reoriented our way of understanding of interrelating from one that is about lack to one that’s about abundance? What would the world be like? I know I’ve thought about this before and it is wonderful to be able to come back to that again, to come back to that again as a two-day conversation, as a two-day reawakening with the fellows, and The LP staff.
I think it’s medicine. It’s spirit medicine, it’s community medicine – to take a moment in the day and bring into clear focus and insight how you’re practicing – I’m practicing – abundance. I know it’s become an important part of my day and it’s really linked to gratitude. I am so abundant and I am so grateful for this abundance. I am so abundant and I am so thankful for this abundance.
D: I think that’s a perfect place to end! That was really great, really inspiring. Thank you!
This month, we’ve been reflecting on the key ideas and methods that The Laundromat Project holds close to heart, and that have guided our practice as an organization over the past 15 years. This is a time of great uncertainty, but we also see inspiration in the form of resistance and movement building. How are LP practices—making art, building community, and creating change—put into play when faced with new challenges? We’ve been wondering: how does concept affect strategy, and meditation inform action? And who better to ask than the artists we’re in community with and working alongside through our Create Change program.
We talked with a few current Create Change Fellows in response to the question:
“What’s a lesson you’ve learned about community building, adaptability, and resilience in your practice over the past few months?”
Since we’ve been called (in this storm of a year) to respond to the unexpected, we are thinking about how we can reframe this moment for ourselves and our community at large as a time to re-center in order to bring a clearer, more intentional collective vision to our futures.
Selamawit Worku
“I have learned several lessons that have expanded my practice and work: I learned that community-building can exist within yourself on a cellular level as the systems within your body come together to combat or prevent the invasion of a lethal virus, and it can simultaneously exist outside of yourself with fellow artists, family, and friends coming together with fury and resilience to face systemic racism and inequality. I have expanded my understanding of adaptability and resilience by studying nature, specifically spiders and plants, to learn new regenerative ways of existing and creating; observing how they adjust to disruptions, and create space or resources for themselves. I have taken those lessons and understood that it has always been possible to have a practice that is fair and equitable towards all beings and bodies, but it’s that many non-Black people and institutions have pretended they don’t know how, or never had to be forced like they are now. In the process of watching this truth be confirmed, the resilient and fair are floating to the top, my practice has felt strengthened, and I have been able to identify new individuals who I can build with.”
Sariyah Benoit
“I paint and spend a lot of time in my head. For me, these past few months reminded me that humility is necessary. My community work is now, more than ever before, conversations with my family and loved ones. Community work means different strategies and personalities. Humility encourages listening and receives feedback well. It also makes adaptability easier, because a humble spirit doesn’t dwell on hurt. At least that’s how it works in my life. I’m very proud, so staying humble is necessary for me to move forward with generosity and keep working on my contributions to this revolution. I have spent my past few months learning this from LP artists and I am so grateful for that opportunity.”
Selamawit Worku
“I have learned several lessons that have expanded my practice and work: I learned that community-building can exist within yourself on a cellular level as the systems within your body come together to combat or prevent the invasion of a lethal virus, and it can simultaneously exist outside of yourself with fellow artists, family, and friends coming together with fury and resilience to face systemic racism and inequality. I have expanded my understanding of adaptability and resilience by studying nature, specifically spiders and plants, to learn new regenerative ways of existing and creating; observing how they adjust to disruptions, and create space or resources for themselves. I have taken those lessons and understood that it has always been possible to have a practice that is fair and equitable towards all beings and bodies, but it’s that many non-Black people and institutions have pretended they don’t know how, or never had to be forced like they are now. In the process of watching this truth be confirmed, the resilient and fair are floating to the top, my practice has felt strengthened, and I have been able to identify new individuals who I can build with.”
Gisela Zuniga
“2020 has emphasized how vital it is to nurture love and patience for ourselves, and for those just now joining us in this work. Witnessing how neighbors and strangers alike choose to contribute, in however small a way, to healing the collective wound reminds me that this recovery is not a sprint but a marathon. That it will take learning resilience beyond any one moment or year, but learning it to sustain the life blood of our communities generation after generation.”
A Black woman in a rested state is a radical act. —The Nap Ministry
Caring for myself is not self-indulgence. It is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare. —Audre Lorde
I will turn 50 on December 16th. A week later, I begin a two month sabbatical that will be dedicated to resting, dreaming, reading, napping, daydreaming, writing, and just being still for a while. I look forward to this full body and mind reset at my half century mark.
This year also marks my eighth at the helm of The Laundromat Project where I began as employee number two in fall 2012. Since then, I have been inspired by dozens of Create Change artists, fulfilled the founding vision of a home in Bed-Stuy, and practiced abundance through art, change, and community across New York City. I am now one of 12 staff members and our budget has grown seven-fold. And thus, now is a good time to rest, reflect, and recharge for a moment.
It was with abundance in mind last year that The LP overhauled our employee policies to be more in line with our values, especially those based on love and being people of color (POC) centered. We have a majority POC staff and fundamentally believe that if POC staff are thriving, then everyone thrives. With input from staff and full approval of our board, The LP’s new staff culture guide added policies on professional development, articulated guidelines of inclusion, and instituted a sabbatical policy for all team members, among other changes. Regardless of role, every staff member receives seven weeks of paid sabbatical leave for every seven years worked.
In our POC-centered principles, The LP commits to nurturing leadership. During my time away, the organization will be ably led by Deputy Director Ayesha Williams and Director of Programs Hatuey Ramos-Fermín, with support from Board Chair George Suttles and other board members. We have a collective leadership system that has helped us successfully navigate previous parental and medical leaves. Each of these temporary absences has ultimately led to greater LP strength through useful organizational innovations borne of necessity and circumstance.
And so, for the first several weeks of the new year (bye-bye, 2020!), I aim to be a Black woman at rest. My spouse and I will be spending most of it on the coast of central California on land stewarded by the yak tityu tityu yak tiłhini Northern Chumash Tribe. As the health pandemic narrowed our geographic choices, we decided warm, quiet and beautiful were the most important criteria. While my husband works to strengthen national democracy, I plan to read fiction for the first time in a long while, conduct oral history interviews with family members, and to take frequent naps on the sunny deck of our rental home. I know from past experience that my mind wanders in the most glorious ways when I am at rest. Those free-roaming thoughts will surely inform and deepen my future work at The LP.
I look forward to that and to sharing my reflections when I return in early March — refreshed, recharged, and ready to dive into The LP’s next chapter. I’m so proud to be part of an organization that walks our talk by prioritizing care and renewal for all members of our team. Thanks to Tricia Hersey of the Nap Ministry and ancestors such as Audre Lorde, we understand that rest is essential for the work ahead. Àṣẹ.
I have two sheroes who exemplify Black abundance. They each quietly contributed what they had to help shape a world towards Black dignity and excellence. In 1995, after decades of saving money earned from washing other people’s clothes, Osceola McCarty donated $150,000 to the University of Southern Mississippi to support scholarships for Black students. Her action inspired others in her hometown of Hattiesburg, Mississippi to do the same, almost tripling her original donation. Her scholarship still supports Black students today. During the Civil Rights Movement, Georgia Gilmore helped power the pivotal Montgomery Bus Boycott of 1955–56 by cooking and selling a mean meal of pork chops, stewed greens, peach pie, and other soul food specialities. She organized other women to participate, and they called themselves The Club from Nowhere. The money they raised by selling their dishes at local churches, cab stands, and beauty salons helped finance alternative transportation systems—cars, wagons, gas, insurance, repairs—during the 381-day boycott. Even with modest means, these visionaries understood their own power to make a difference in Black life and to inspire others to join them. It is only fitting to remember them both during Black Philanthropy Month.
In this time of twin pandemics that are ravaging Black and brown communities, including artists and cultural workers, I am buoyed by current examples of Black generosity and self-determination. So many folks have risen to this moment by setting up mutual aid and care networks that build on Black legacies of collective support, including susus, social aid clubs, and Black Panther principles. Like so many, artists looked around to their family, friends, neighbors, community organizations and immediately understood the stakes. Many decided to act.
When COVID-19 hit, Olaronke (Ola) Akinmowo took a dream that had been percolating for some time and decided to launch a mini-grant program in April. Ola, who works mainly as a set decorator for film and TV, initially took some of her own earnings from a consulting job to seed five grants of $250 each to single Black mother creatives anywhere in the country. As founder of The Free Black Women’s Library (TFBWL) with a large social media following, Ola also posted her intention to her network. They showed up and showed out, making generous donations that have enabled Ola to make grants totaling over $32,000 to 132 Black single mothers who are also painters, writers, dancers, filmmakers, doulas, chefs, tattoo artists, farmers, yoga instructors, and more. They have used the funds to pay utility bills, buy medicine, reboot websites, feed their children, and more. They also used this support to make art.
For Ola, the Sister Outsider Relief Grant is a way to say, “I believe in you; I see you, mama” to all the Black women making magic everyday in a world that does not often appreciate them in their fullness. It is also an affirmation of her own power to manifest dreams, live her values, and activate community. In her world vision, Black mothers matter and they can win. It is with that wind in her sail that she is launching the third application round on August 30: stay updated by checking out TFBWL’s social media. She aims to grant a total of $50,000, including the prior two rounds. If you want to support, send donations via Venmo to @olaronke, or via CashApp to $TFBWL.
As if on a similar wavelength, two other artists have taken this moment to share their art and galvanize their communities in support of Black and progressive causes. Within days of George Floyd’s murder, Paul Mpagi Sepuya made a list of organizations that support Black lives, LGBTQIA+ folks, voter fairness, criminal justice reform, community arts, and more. He then asked his network of gallerists, curators, collectors, and social media followers to back up their #BLM social media posts with concrete contributions to Black communities. He created an open print edition of one of his beautiful photographs and sent it as a thank you acknowledgement to anyone who “invested” at least $250 in any of the organizations he had identified. All a person had to do was send him a receipt. In just two months, Paul raised $217,000 in total, including $8,000 for The LP. In like fashion, as Black Lives Matter protests and demands unfolded around us, Damien Davis identified 13 Black arts and LGBTQIA+ organizations that he wanted to support right now. With Benefit Suite, he paired each organization with a unique sculpture of an Afro pick / power button named after a Black person killed by police or vigilante violence. The LP was thus honored to lift up the memory and life of Sandra Bland. For each piece, a collector had to make a donation of at least $1,800 to the organization. Damien sold all 13 works and raised over $30,000 in less than two weeks. Each of these stories are examples of artists and cultural workers leaning into Black abundance as birthright.
Like Ms. McCarty and Ms. Gilmore before them, Ola, Paul, and Damien recognize that mobilizing resources is a liberation technology that can be used to affirm and support Black lives and entities. They also understand the pain and the possibilities of this moment and so brought what they had—art, ingenuity, passion, networks—to the ongoing fight for Black culture and justice. Like so many others today who are marching, demanding, and dreaming Black futures, they are creating the modern scaffolding for long-term sustainability of Black networks and organizations. In kinship, I’m also deeply inspired by all Black cultural workers who are owning their power as resource organizers, from Black Artist Fund and Jar of Love Fund to See In Black, and many more. Their collective generosity and actions are the embodiment of words by poet Gwendolyn Brooks: “We are each other’s harvest; we are each other’s business; we are each other
Create Create Change Fellows Kyra Assibey-Bonsu and Madjeen Isaac are artists who share an interest in engaging with Black immigrant communities. For our Creative Conversations series, Kyra and Madjeen talked about their experience and approach to working with Black immigrant communities, and how their practices highlight the lives of those from these communities.
This interview has been lightly edited for clarity and brevity.
Who are we?
My name is Madjeen Isaac, I am Haitian American, born and raised in Brooklyn NY.
My name is Kyra Assibey-Bonsu. I’m a Ghanaian first and an accidental Texan second. Both are inescapable truths.
What is your practice and what do we specialize in?
Madjeen: I am a visual artist specializing in oil painting. I also personally dabble in collage and photography and have been called to expand and explore other mediums!
My current bodies of work are a tender offering to utopian urban living, rooted in hybridizing my ancestral homeland Haiti with my hometown Brooklyn. I enjoy depicting Black and Brown folks engaging in abundance, joy, liberation, leisure, and communality without the constraints of reality.
Kyra: My focus is on the elevation of marginalized communities through audio as well as by providing platforms and spaces for these voices. I intend on weaving community stories that highlight Black history. I’m a brand new audio nerd with a passion for the gift of gab, I love to chat with others about who they are, how they came to be, and where they are going.
Madjeen Isaac, Meet us at Flatbush and Beverly, 2021
How did we arrive to do what we do?
Madjeen: During my 3rd year at undergrad, I was given an assignment to explore the theme “culture”. Though very broad, I made it an opportunity to explore my Haitian American culture, identity, and upbringing in Brooklyn.
That following summer I also traveled to Haiti, spent time with family, and truly observed the landscape which ignited inspiration and provided me a newfound understanding of my lineage, Haitian history, and immigrants back home in Flatbush Brooklyn. I was taken aback at the similarities and ways of being folks and Haiti and in Brooklyn. They created a community-driven ecosystem and contributed to society through family-owned markets, restaurants, and transportation businesses.
Reimagining spaces and painting utopia landscapes have been the focal point of my work ever since. Looking back now, I was not necessarily aware of how my work would take shape. However, it led me to my current interests in how Black and Brown folks occupy, contribute, decorate, and preserve their spaces, environmental justice, and urban agriculture.
Kyra: It all started out for me in Spain working for the government and teaching computer literacy to Central American immigrants. I was entranced by their stories so much so that when I moved to Argentina, I rebranded my own storytelling event and named it First-Hand Buenos Aires. I wanted to showcase the stories of foreigners and the natives through thematic storytelling nights and bring a humanistic feel to the obstacles we all face. I fell in love with the art form of sharing oneself on stage, and I was inspired to create my own podcast, “No Country For Moving,” which is about the obstacles faced by immigrants in America. I’m currently finding new and intriguing ways to build and develop the narrative of marginalized voices through audio.
Kyra Assibey-Bonsu’s podcast, No Country for Moving
What inspires us?
Madjeen: Volunteering at my local community garden, spending time in nature, spending time with loved ones, thinking about intergenerational connection and collaboration, oral history, and storytelling.
Kyra: I enjoy community building through the preservation of Black and Brown communities because it allows for a greater understanding of how we navigate the spaces we are allowed to occupy. Most notably, I was honored to be a part of the first BlackSpace board, a collective of architects, planners, and artists that work in affirming and amplifying Black presence in the built environment through neighborhood strategy, published content, and customized learning.
Madjeen Isaac, Delicate Whirl(d), 2022
How is your practice influenced by Black immigrant communities?
Madjeen: These communities feel most familiar to me. I grew up in a predominantly Caribbean neighborhood with immigrants, first and second generations. I gravitate towards how folks merge and weave their knowledge and cultures from their native land within the Brooklyn landscape. This can be seen through the businesses they operate, the ways they communicate with one another in Patios, Kreyol, or Spanish, and simply how they choose to show up.
Kyra: Black immigrant communities have been silenced for generations.As a child of immigrants, I feel closely tied to the Black immigrant experience in particular when it comes to showing up in predominantly white spaces. Where I grew up, the Ghanaian immigrant population was perpetually growing and striving to be seen. Consequently, I love to elucidate to the public why our lives matter and how it influences the day-to-day lives of the world as a whole.
Why is it important to highlight the lives of those from Black immigrant communities?
Madjeen: I often think about what it is like to yearn for a sense of balance and belonging especially in a society that may not prioritize our rights and well-being. Not only are my paintings visual archives of my environments and my radical imaginations, but it’s also important for me to depict an ideal world where Black immigrants, first and second gens feel empowered to take up space and simply be.
Kyra: It’s important because Black voices and lives are often seen as lesser or popularized for solely commercial consumption.
What do you hope to show or inform through your practice if any?
Madjeen: We can thrive as a collective and through communal care. I would love for my paintings to be blueprints of ongoing conversations on what that looks like especially for generations to come.
Kyra: That our injustices will not define us, our triumphs will. and we can share that with generations to come.
If you could introduce or transform something within your community what would it be?!
Madjeen: I would introduce a few things that would diminish the liminal space between language and cultural barriers. This includes:
Establishing a day for community dreaming, gardening, art-making, and neighborhood clean-up. This would encourage residents to voice and actualize their interests and needs.
Free apartment renovation vouchers for longtime immigrant residents who are challenged with receiving aid and attention from lazy landlords.
Kyra: To have safe spaces through all-inclusive mediums for us to share the Black experience.
Each story about Black immigrants has the voices of Black immigrants and the history told by Black historians.
Town Halls across the nation that provide a platform for Black immigrants to discuss topics that specifically affect them.
Policy changes enforced by the federal government that requires there to be in-depth knowledge and education of African diaspora history prior to enslavement.
Madjeen Isaac is a painter based in Brooklyn, NY. Her practice is rooted in her Haitian-American identity, upbringing, and Afro-Diasporic stories. She explores themes of nostalgia and familiarity by reconstructing and assembling melanges of urban and tropical environments to create utopias and realms of her imagination.
Kyra Assibey-Bonsu is a well-versed cultural education-based storyteller who believes the story defines how communities engage and thrive. She is a passionate urbanist who actively develops spaces through entrepreneurship and immigration/migration justice, like through her podcast, No Country for Moving.
Johari James is a youth mentor, business owner, community activist, hip hop artist, and father from Flatbush, Brooklyn. Through his organization Str8OuttaBklyn Media, he offers vocational training and artistic programs for youth and community artists to thrive. Johari’s work was supported by The LP’s Create & Connect Fund in 2021. Recently, Community Engagement Coordinator Erica Rawles sat down with Johari to hear more about his inspiration and practice.
This interview has been lightly edited for clarity and brevity.
Erica Rawles: Can you start by sharing a little bit about yourself and who you are?
Johari James: Alright, peace, peace. My name is Johari James, also known as Nova. I am an artist, I would think of myself as an artist first and foremost. Well, I’m a father first and foremost now—father of a four-year-old daughter. But I’m an artist, and I mentor youth in my neighborhood. I live in Ocean Hill, but I was born and grew up in Flatbush, Brooklyn. Been in Ocean Hill, Brownsville for 17 years, so this side of town has been my home for a while.
I’m an emcee; I’ve been writing and performing for a long time. And I’m a working artist, so I’ve been doing my music thing throughout my career, and also managing a business on the side [where I do telecommunications contracting].
Through the years, I started to bring on the young guys of our neighborhood into my business. Not teenagers, but like 20-something year-olds I knew who were being productive, I started to bring them on as apprentices and provide them with an opportunity to make money. And as I was doing that, and still doing my music, I started to blend the concept of mentoring the guys around me, and started doing the same with music.
Johari James: It happened organically. As I started to slow down with the performing aspect of music, I was still creative and in the field, so I found artists that needed assistance. A lot of them would be young artists that would see me performing, and they wanted to rap for the first time. So I would bring them to the studio, get them some beats, and help them develop their artistry at that initial stage.
I really fell into enjoying mentorship. Music was always very community based, so mentoring and finding that angle was really dope for me. That’s what I’ve been doing for the last few years, and using my event planning skills to put together shows and block parties and fashion shows, all sorts of things. And now these youth workshops and showcases.
Mentee/Artist K.L.X and Johari James
ER: Thanks so much for sharing that. I’m interested in what you said about music being very community oriented. Could you talk a little bit about your journey into music, and also what that community looks like to you?
JJ: Music was a big force for me in my social world. Like in junior high and high school, we were rapping. Especially in our community, the Black community, kind of everyone does some form of creative art, and usually music is one of the main things that we gravitate to. So yeah, I was dabbling around young. And then after high school, we all tried our hand at college for a year or two and just decided that wasn’t what we wanted to do at the time, and really locked into music. That really gave me my social foundation. The social currency that I have right now I really attribute to those teenage and early-twenties years of going hard with the music.
We were able to get an independent deal and put out some music in the record stores in the early and mid 2000s. The collection was called New Rap Order and the name of the group was The Project. We were talking about gentrification in 2003, talking about the changes in our community and how we could try to effect the change. In the songs, we didn’t even necessarily call it gentrification—that term was jumping around for decades, but it wasn’t really a hot button topic at the time.
Music gave me social presence, confidence, speaking skills. So now I can be [where I am today] and at least have some sort of insight when I [work with] the young. I feel like music is even more important to kids now than when I was young. It’s everything now, with social media, and the fact that it’s on your phone—it’s just right there. So all of these kids, they want to rap. And I try to hear them out, I give them their space, and I just try to impart my old man wisdom and advice.
ER: So tell me about Str8OuttaBklyn and how it came about. Working with youth is a big focus of what you do—why is that important to you?
JJ: When I was doing my music, I would shoot videos on my block. One time there was a kid across the street who wanted to be in the video, so he was in it with his little sister and a couple other people. Then he wanted to tell me that he could rap, so I was like, “Alright, cool, man.” So he starts rapping, and he’s good. I formed a little bond with him. He was maybe 11 or 10 at that time, and he would always bug me to [let him] come to the studio. So I told his mom, and I started taking him around. I kind of took him under my wing, so to speak. And then one day it happened really organically—his mom was there, and in the moment, she just told him something like, “Listen to your mentor,” you know what I mean? And that’s when it all came together. It was that moment where you’re just like: “Oh shoot. Oh wow. Okay, that’s cool, that’s interesting.”
It was powerful to me, because I wasn’t necessarily calling myself his mentor, but it made me just reflect on what I had already been doing, and say, “Okay, I know that I can do this. At least I think I can do this, and I’m willing to give it a shot.”
So then I started having him come work with me. He would bring his friend around, and his other friend, so now I have like eight boys at my door. Literally wake up in the morning, I got eight boys at my door and they’re like, “Yo, what’s up? We need something to do today.” And I would be like, “Okay, you all are going to clean up my yard. You all are going to sweep the street, and I’m going to give you all $30 each” or whatever it may be, just doing things like that. Then that turned into resume workshops, interview workshops, and stuff like that. And if they were into music, I would bring them to the studio.
“It was powerful to me, because I wasn’t necessarily calling myself his mentor, but it made me just reflect on what I had already been doing, and say, ‘Okay, I know that I can do this. At least I think I can do this, and I’m willing to give it a shot.'”
Ariana Faye Allensworth
So last year, I started putting on events like the Artist & Repertoire Show, which was an event to highlight artists of his age. He’s sixteen now, that kid. So just highlighting and giving those kids that are thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen—that age—a space where they can come express themselves, and know that like, yo, there’s somebody out there that gives a damn about them outside of school.
Because that’s the thing, you’re in school for a certain amount of time, then you get out of school and into the streets, it’s like, that’s it. You’re lucky if they’re in school.
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So I was doing this mentoring, and when it was time for me to name my business, I wanted to name it Str8OuttaBklyn. I knew that that represented what I wanted to do, which was, plain and simple, to create a better Brooklyn, starting with my own neighborhood, and give the youth in my neighborhood as many opportunities as I can, offering resources, and providing them with a better Brooklyn than what I grew up in and what it is kind of turning back into. It’s an interesting space where Brooklyn is at right now. It’s in a real weird place.
I got the name from the [1991] movie Straight Out of Brooklyn [directed by Matty Rich]. It’s in that genre of Juice and Boyz n the Hood, but it was a lot more low-production. It’s a really good movie and it was really impactful to me. I wrote an album titled Str8OuttaBklyn, kind of using that movie as a visual motif to follow with my songs. So Str8OuttaBklyn just stuck with me.
ER: Is there anything you want to share about what’s coming up for Str8OuttaBklyn? Any plans or anything you’re excited about working on this year?
JJ: Yeah, we just started putting together our summer programming. We were awarded another grant, the Brooklyn Arts Council grant. So this summer, our first event in June is our School’s Out event, which is a concert and summer youth employment fair. We have three high schools so far, and we’re looking to coordinate with about five to seven different schools. Students from those schools will come out, perform, and do their thing in different genres and disciplines of talent. They’ll also be able to get in touch with people that can offer them jobs.
Then we have a cleanup that we’re doing in July. The neighborhood cleanups are something I started doing last year, just on my block with the kids. It’s a good way to get the youth outside and active. We collaborate with the local block associations and the local community gardens, and we gather people—all the neighbors, have youth come out, and we coordinate with the sanitation department. We barbecue and whatnot, not a block party, but a little event and cleanup.
Then we have some music classes. We’re working with a Black-owned bar restaurant in my neighborhood here called Gems Lounge; they’re offering their space for a lot of different community events. That’s where we did the [Artist & Repertoire] show that [The Laundromat Project] sponsored in November, where we were able to give away food and turkeys. They’re going to provide their space and we’re doing some free music classes with teaching artists. We have DJing, beat making, guitar playing, drumming, all these different disciplines. So I have a lot of people to educate and assist with getting the youth on board and keeping them active in the summer.
Str8OuttaBklyn’s School’s Out event flier
And then we’ll end the summer with another Artist & Repertoire back-to-school event, same kind of format with the concert. We’ll have arcade games and just try to just make another fun activity. The whole concept for us is creating safe spaces, specifically, like I said, in this community. In East Brooklyn, there’s not a lot of activities or things to do on a casual level for a kid.
My ultimate goal in the next two to three years is really to build a community hub where we put a spin on, or update rather, the standard idea of a community center, like the YMCA and Boys & Girls [Club] type of thing, where it’s more technologically advanced. This would be something more on the lines of BRIC in Downtown Brooklyn, but something that’s more freeing. We’ll have a fresh market, retail, a community space that’s funded and run by the residents of the neighborhood.
I actually think every neighborhood needs to have a really dope community center, and they should all work within a network that the community can rely upon. There’s too many barriers between residents and local politicians and people that can make change on a direct level. So that’s one of the goals that we have.
ER: That’s super exciting. It’s great to hear about everything you all have going on this summer, and I love your vision for a community community center that’s run by residents and self-determined, that’s really powerful. Imagining all of these hubs throughout different neighborhoods and the connections those hubs could have between themselves is a beautiful vision. Thank you for sharing all that. This brings me to my last question. You seem like a very entrepreneurial person. I’m wondering what advice you might give to someone who has their own ideas that they hope to bring to life? What have you learned through your own experience that you would share?
JJ: You should write down your ideas and whatever plan it is that you have, no matter how big or crazy or scary, just write it down. In your phone, on your wall, however you gotta do it. And then you should write down the steps and figure out how you’re going to get there. I think it empowers you, because it’s in stone, it’s there. And then writing down what it takes to get there, but not overwhelming yourself with the steps. I was in a meeting yesterday, actually, and that’s one of the things Yogi [also known as Y?, founder of Creative Expressions] told me, who was one of the people who taught me how to write grants. The [grant writing] process can be overwhelming, and it’s easy to be overwhelmed by things when you look at the whole big picture.
I’m gonna quote him, he was saying: “Some days you just gotta say, ‘Step one, stand up. Step two, walk. Step three, get water. Step four, drink it. Step five, go outside.’” You have to break it down that simple. So if you have your plan and it’s five steps, those five steps might turn into 25 steps, because each step might be five mini steps. But just try to see it through. That’s the last part really, just try to see it through.
Johari James and volunteers for Str8OuttaBklyn’s Holiday Golden Giveback Event at Stone Ave Library in Brownsville, 2017
Born and raised in Brooklyn, NY, Johari Nova James is a youth mentor, business owner, community activist, hip hop artist, and artist manager. Through his company Str8OuttaBklyn Media LLC, he creates employment opportunities for youth, as well as youth and community initiatives such as art programs, neighborhood cleanups, youth resume workshops, etc. Creating safe and sustainable spaces in the Black community, controlled by community residents, is at the core of what Johari and Str8OuttaBklyn Media is all about.
Johnnay joined The LP team as our new Development Coordinator in May 2022. Get to know more about her!
In what neighborhood do you live?
Crown Heights!
How did you first become connected to The LP, or hear about The LP?
The first time I heard about the LP was through the work of MuseumHue. LP popped up in a newsletter and I immediately was drawn to their clear dedication of empowering communities through art. I was an instant fan!
So, what attracted you to The LP? How does working here relate to your professional goals?
What attracted me to The LP was their commitment to using as art as a tool for social change and empowering communities to be their own agents of change. I want to build a career that centers advocating for art accessibility and I think the LP is a great place to continue to learn and grow.
Can you tell us about an artist or project that has inspired you?
I have a few but I would definitely have to say the work of Lorraine O’Grady. Her series “Art is…” is mesmerizing and highlights the importance of community, celebration, and how art is all around us. Her work inspires me to be rebellious and reminds me to always remember that simply being alive and joyful is art.
Where do you do your laundry?
In my basement!
In your opinion, why does art matter?
Art matters because it allows us to connect, dream, and be inspired. All three of those are key to being alive.
What LP value do you most relate to and why?
I think in the last few months it has been to practice abundance. I love the idea that we have everything we need and that we can create a future for us, by us. I am drawn to the idea that collectively we have the skills and knowledge that is needed to have a world that centers interconnectedness and joy. It’s our responsibility to ensure people feel empowered and that they are valued in our communities.
Proudly hailing from Minnesota, Johnnay Leenay is the Development Coordinator at The Laundromat Project. Before joining the LP, she worked in philanthropy at Astraea Lesbian Foundation for Justice and in Development at BRIC Arts and Media supporting the Membership team for BRIC Celebrate! Brooklyn and BRIC House. She holds a B.A. in Communications and Justice and Peace Studies and is passionate about the intersections of art, queerness, and social justice. In her free time, she enjoys exploring New York City, marveling at art anywhere she can find it, and giggling.
Catherine joined The LP team as our new Director of Programs in May 2022. Get to know more about her!
In what neighborhood do you live?
South Orange, NJ.
How did you first become connected to The LP, or hear about The LP?
I met Risë [Wilson, LP Founder] in 2011 and immediately fell in love with the vision and mission she had for the organization.
So, what attracted you to The LP? How does working here relate to your professional goals?
I was attracted to the pedagogy of The LP, and how deeply tied to the artist community the Director of Programs role is, because I am passionate about community engagement and artist development.
Do you have your own creative practice? If so, tell us more!
Yes, I curate community engagement projects and events.
Can you tell us about an artist or project that has inspired you?
When I was in high school, I majored in fashion design and my teacher took me to see a Gianni Versace exhibition at the Fashion Institute of Technology. Seeing this show changed my life and truly inspired me to pursue a career in the arts.
What is your favorite… film? …album? …food?
Movie: The Wiz. Album: Tobe Nwigwe, Monumental Live. Food: Thieboudienne (a Senegalese dish).
Where do you do your laundry?
At home.
In your opinion, why does art matter?
Art is an important way of connecting the human experience.
What LP value do you most relate to and why?
Create Change, because I believe that we have a responsibility to use our natural gifts, talents, and abilities to manifest a more equitable future.
Catherine Mbali Green-Johnson is a cultural leader with over 20 years of experience working in arts administration and community advocacy. She is an innovative practitioner deeply rooted in curating programming that empowers and inspires communities of color to advocate for positive, sustainable transformation co-created on their terms. Prior to joining The LP, Green founded ARTs East New York, where she forwarded its mission by masterfully combining the art of community engagement and artistic expression towards the arc of social change. As a creative placemaker, alongside the New York City Economic Development Corporation, Green spearheaded the opening of the ReNew Lots Market and Artist Incubator, a pop-up marketplace and artist incubator located on formerly vacant lots using recycled shipping containers. In 2018, she was appointed by the Mayor of the City of New York to the Cultural Affairs Advisory Committee to assist in developing the City’s first cultural plan focused on equity and inclusion. She is a powerful speaker and workshop facilitator, and has presented both nationally and internationally with The Project for Public Spaces in Barcelona and Amsterdam; Trazos Libres in Cienfuegos, Cuba; Joan Mitchell Center in New Orleans; Open Engagement in Oakland; the Brooklyn Museum, and beyond. In addition to this work, Green is a visionary, healer, and life coach who has supported creatives and cultivated resources for clients through her consulting practice. Catherine believes in utilizing the power of imagination, storytelling, and ancestral research to create radical sustainability plans and steward resources for an integrative approach to societal change.
Andrea joined The LP team as our Programs Coordinator in April 2022. Get to know more about Andrea below!
In your opinion, why does art matter?
The arts matter because they can be used as an interdisciplinary tool to connect with a culturally diverse world and create social change.
What LP value do you most relate to and why?
The LP’s value to be propelled with love as a radical and essential act of power resonates with me, especially when it is needed most right now as New York City heals from the Covid-19 pandemic.
Andrea Gil-Garcia is an educator and cultural worker committed to equity, increasing meaningful social engagement, and amplifying diverse voices in programming around New York City. She has over 10 years of experience in critical pedagogy, cultural programming, and art administration in museums and grassroots community art institutions including Groundswell Community Mural Project, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Brooklyn Children’s Museum, Artists Space, and the Dedalus Foundation.
Andrea holds a B.A. in Visual and Education studies from the New School.
Create Change Fellows Jing Dong and Jessica Cortez are community-based theater artists who share an interest in performance as a space for imagination. For our Creative Conversations series, Jing and Jessica interviewed each other about their respective performance practices and work with communities, sharing about the unique ways theater can be used as a tool for connection, activism, education, and organizing.
This interview has been lightly edited.
Jing Dong: Jessica, what is a project you’ve worked on that you are proud of?
Jessica Cortez: One project I am very proud of is a virtual program I designed and facilitated through the San Diego Opera. In the midst of the pandemic, we wanted to create a space that invited young people to connect, reflect, and create art together. Over the past two years, my co-facilitator, Shayla James, and I have worked with a group of young women from various high schools in San Diego. Through storytelling, art making, theater, and music, we have been able to forge a strong community despite being from different neighborhoods. Together we have explored identity, mental health, body positivity, and gender expectations. The group is currently working on producing an original audio drama that will be coming out in June!
To me, theater is not a cultural product for people to consume, but a space where people gather and reflect on things. It is where things actually happen. And it can be a vehicle for change.
Jing Dong
Jing: I’d love to share a research-based project I did called Storytelling From Home, about the experiences of first generation immigrants living in the Lower East Side. As an immigrant myself, I know that to reroot in the US, many first-generation immigrants have left behind their cultures, traditions, languages, social connections, and memories. Because of language barriers and the time and energy needed for survival, their voices are often muted. I wanted to make a performance about this experience and amplify their voices. At first it felt like an impossible project to do because immigrants often have other priorities than art making. But together with collaborators and community members, following our plan that focused on process and community members’ needs, we built an ensemble step by step, and created a performance we all felt proud of. It was a multidisciplinary performance with storytelling, movement, music, and photography developed from experiences and performance ideas from the whole ensemble.
Website created by Jing for her storytelling workshop participants to exhibit their storytelling performances.Visit the site here.
Jessica: How do you collaborate with community members in art making?
Jing: As equal collaborators. In my earlier theater projects, our theater troupe used to share the production process openly with community members. They could choose to observe, participate, talk to us to find out what they wanted to do, and celebrate with us after shows. Some people ended up working with us for the production or even joining us. Now that I’m focusing on research-based projects, I invite community members to every phase, from research to devising and performing.
Jessica: In my practice, art making takes many forms and is usually based on the community’s interest. During my time as an applied theater practitioner, I have collaborated with communities on building parade puppets, crafting ofrendas, devising plays, engaging in interviews. Every art making endeavor is rooted in conversation.
Alebrije parade puppets created by Jessica in collaboration with members of Hand in Hand Domestic Employers Network for a Dia de los Muertos action
Jing: What inspired you to focus on community-based theater?
Jessica: For me, theater has always been about community. I entered this field my third year in college as an Ethnic Studies major. My professor Evelyn Diaz Cruz was really the guiding light in my journey into community-based theater. She taught me that theater could be a way to channel my passion and my learnings from Ethnic Studies—that it could be a place for centering communities of color. Through her mentorship, I learned how theater has been used for community organizing, advocacy, and education. As I became more familiar with community-based forms such as Theatre of the Oppressed, Playback Theatre, ethnodrama, and guerrilla theatre, the more inspired I became to continue this practice of working within the community.
Alebrije parade puppet created by Jessica in collaboration with members of Hand in Hand Domestic Employers Network for a Dia de los Muertos action
Jing: I love theater, but I don’t always get representational theater. To me, theater is not a cultural product for people to consume, but a space where people gather and reflect on things. It is where things actually happen. And it can be a vehicle for change. Community-based theater is this type of theater. It has so much potential for real art to take place, and it is accessible to a lot more people than many other types of theater.
Jessica: What are your thoughts on entering a community, cultivating ensemble, and exiting the community?
Jing: I think the most difficult part of working with communities is entering a community and building trust with people. It takes a curious mind, an open heart, patience, and a lot of time. And you still might fail. It is a great process for me to learn and get inspired by people I want to know, work with, and work for. For me, cultivating an ensemble happens simultaneously with art making, so skills and strategies from ensemble theater and pedagogy are helpful tools. In terms of exiting, I feel our current system does not value exiting as much as needed. I try to always build into my project plan a formal exiting gathering, to make space for people to celebrate our work together and reflect on our collective experience. It is a ritual for closure and a way of making meaning together, which I think is important for every one of us psychologically and spiritually.
Charts used in the devising process to help structure a Forum Theater piece about Domestic Workers Rights.
Jessica: When entering a community, I think about what my connections are to the people I’ll be collaborating with. For example, when working with a group of domestic workers on a forum theatre project, I examined my own relationship to domestic work and care. I thought of my grandmothers, one of whom cleaned houses for many years of her life, and the other who worked as a nanny when she first came to the United States. Understanding these intersections are critical to unpacking why I intend to enter a community. Another aspect of entering a community is having a direct connection or invitation. When working on this project, one of my co-facilitators, who works as an organizer, had a connection to a neighborhood organization that hosted a local nanny association. This connection led to an invitation from the organizer there, which helped establish a level of trust between ourselves as facilitators and the domestic workers. In order to build community, I believe it takes a lot of deep listening, transparency, humility, food, and fun. Playing games is a huge part of cultivating an ensemble. It is through play that we make discoveries about ourselves and others.
Jessica Cortez (she/her) is a Chicana theatre artist from San Diego, CA currently living and creating in Brooklyn, NY. In 2020, Jessica graduated from the CUNY School of Professional Studies MA in Applied Theatre program where she was awarded the Graduate Apprenticeship for Diversity in Applied Theatre. Over the past six years, she has worked as a teaching artist with arts organizations including the Creative Arts Team, Ping Chong + Company, Girls Leadership, Teatro Izcalli, and the San Diego Opera. Jessica received her BA in both Ethnic Studies and Theatre Arts with a certification in Leadership/Nonprofit Management from the University of San Diego.
Jing Dong is a theatre maker focusing on creating research-based and community-based interdisciplinary performances. She believes that theatre is a space for people to gather, share, and imagine a collective future. Jing developed her artistry in ensemble settings by taking multiple roles. She has initiated projects on the Lower East Side that investigate into personal memories and social-historical context, and promote social justice and the well-being of community members. She was a 2019/20 AIR at University Settlement, and a LMCC Creative Engagement Grantee in 2020/21.
Shana joined The LP team as our Director of Finance & Operations in April 2022, where she will be developing, managing, and enhancing our financial and administrative operations. Get to know more about Shana below!
In what neighborhood do you live?
Prospect Lefferts Gardens/Flatbush
How did you first become connected to The LP, or hear about The LP?
I first heard of The LP through my work at Brooklyn Arts Council. Being part of the same Brooklyn arts community, a lot of the artists I worked with at BAC overlap with the artists that The LP works with. One of my coworkers spoke with The LP during the community mapping project, and another was on a panel with Ayesha for the NYC Arts in Education Roundtable Face to Face Conference last year.
So, what attracted you to The LP? How does working here relate to your professional goals?
Every touchpoint I’ve had with The LP has been overwhelmingly positive. I’m constantly impressed with how deep The LP is able to go in this work, with the intentionality that’s given to every detail, both internally and externally. I’ve done a good deal of visioning around what I believe a healthy and sustainable workplace could look like, and it feels aligned with The LP’s practices and goals. I’m quite proud of the work I’ve done to build systems and policies to advance equity and sustainability in the workplace, and I’m excited to bring my skills to this organization I admire.
Do you have your own creative practice? If so, tell us more!
I do! I’m a classically trained painter and have a particular interest in oil portraits that capture divisions of power and the psychologically and historically fraught spectacle of the painted female form. My work draws on inspiration from my favorite feminist authors, representing complexities in daily life managing safety, fear, and harassment, both in and outside the home. More than anything, I love color and find building my palette one of the most meditative and restorative practices I’ve encountered. I also play a number of instruments and am dabbling in songwriting.
Can you tell us about an artist or project that has inspired you?
Fred Wilson’s Mining the Museum! Fred Wilson was invited to do an installation at the Maryland Historical Society in 1992 in which he used items previously relegated to storage to subvert the (white, upper-class) narrative of the museum, putting on display the racist, white supremacist history of Maryland which had been neatly tucked into a closet. I just love anything that can, through such simple means, flip an entire narrative which has been presented as fact. It’s something I think about often when presented with news or history. What is the story that’s being left out? Who is telling this story and what is their motive? What don’t they want their audience to see? Museums are so often heralded as being neutral, public institutions and I so appreciate this exhibit for calling out just how not neutral these institutions are.
What is your favorite… film? …album? …food?
Film: Blue Velvet by David Lynch. I actually filmed my own (hilariously over the top) version of it in high school, haha. Album: alllll of the Okay Kaya. She got me through the last two years of the pandemic with her soothing voice and gentle melodies. Food: I’m a sucker for noodles of all kinds.
Where do you do your laundry?
570 Laundromat, across the street from my apartment.
In your opinion, why does art matter?
What I love about art is that it is a purely natural and visceral human expression at its core. It’s inherently embedded with cultural and communal context, it acts as a means of connection, and it has the potential to expand perception. Great art pulls out the layers of feelings and complexities that I didn’t even realize were there until recognizing it in something and someone else. I think art supports each of us in feeling like we’re not alone.
What LP value do you most relate to and why?
I so appreciate the value of practicing abundance: that together we encompass everything we need. Lately I’ve been stuck on this idea that we’re all part of the same ecosystem and each of our actions has essential ripple effects on the larger environment. I remind myself of this on days when the world feels large and insurmountable. I try to remember on those days that working intentionally and carefully in my areas that I’m skilled in and have access to helps, even if it doesn’t seem directly related.
Shana Wolfe is a classically trained oil painter and multimedia artist with over ten years experience working in nonprofit administration. She has shown her work in exhibits throughout Brooklyn, crafted and designed music videos and film sets, and produced immersive displays for events and installations. Just before the pandemic, Shana launched a community art space, Pocket, offering resources and classes to the Crown Heights neighborhood (out of a former laundromat!). After studying Painting at Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore, MD, she earned her B.S. in Art History and Museum Professions at SUNY Fashion Institute of Technology in New York City. Before joining The LP team, she worked at Brooklyn Arts Council, providing resources and support to artists throughout the borough.
Johari James is a youth mentor, business owner, community activist, hip hop artist, and father from Flatbush, Brooklyn. Through his organization Str8OuttaBklyn Media, he offers vocational training and artistic programs for youth and community artists to thrive. Johari’s work was supported by The LP’s Create & Connect Fund in 2021. Recently, Community Engagement Coordinator Erica Rawles sat down with Johari to hear more about his inspiration and practice.
This interview has been lightly edited for clarity and brevity.
____________________________________________
Erica Rawles: Can you start by sharing a little bit about yourself and who you are?
Johari James: Alright, peace, peace. My name is Johari James, also known as Nova. I am an artist, I would think of myself as an artist first and foremost. Well, I’m a father first and foremost now—father of a four-year-old daughter. But I’m an artist, and I mentor youth in my neighborhood. I live in Ocean Hill, but I was born and grew up in Flatbush, Brooklyn. Been in Ocean Hill, Brownsville for 17 years, so this side of town has been my home for a while.
I’m an emcee; I’ve been writing and performing for a long time. And I’m a working artist, so I’ve been doing my music thing throughout my career, and also managing a business on the side [where I do telecommunications contracting].
Through the years, I started to bring on the young guys of our neighborhood into my business. Not teenagers, but like 20-something year-olds I knew who were being productive, I started to bring them on as apprentices and provide them with an opportunity to make money. And as I was doing that, and still doing my music, I started to blend the concept of mentoring the guys around me, and started doing the same with music.
Johari James and volunteers for Str8OuttaBklyn’s ‘Clean Up Nice’ Neighborhood Cleanup, 2021
Johari James: It happened organically. As I started to slow down with the performing aspect of music, I was still creative and in the field, so I found artists that needed assistance. A lot of them would be young artists that would see me performing, and they wanted to rap for the first time. So I would bring them to the studio, get them some beats, and help them develop their artistry at that initial stage.
I really fell into enjoying mentorship. Music was always very community based, so mentoring and finding that angle was really dope for me. That’s what I’ve been doing for the last few years, and using my event planning skills to put together shows and block parties and fashion shows, all sorts of things. And now these youth workshops and showcases.
ER: Thanks so much for sharing that. I’m interested in what you said about music being very community oriented. Could you talk a little bit about your journey into music, and also what that community looks like to you?
JJ: Music was a big force for me in my social world. Like in junior high and high school, we were rapping. Especially in our community, the Black community, kind of everyone does some form of creative art, and usually music is one of the main things that we gravitate to. So yeah, I was dabbling around young. And then after high school, we all tried our hand at college for a year or two and just decided that wasn’t what we wanted to do at the time, and really locked into music. That really gave me my social foundation. The social currency that I have right now I really attribute to those teenage and early-twenties years of going hard with the music.
We were able to get an independent deal and put out some music in the record stores in the early and mid 2000s. The collection was called New Rap Order and the name of the group was The Project. We were talking about gentrification in 2003, talking about the changes in our community and how we could try to effect the change. In the songs, we didn’t even necessarily call it gentrification—that term was jumping around for decades, but it wasn’t really a hot button topic at the time.
Music gave me social presence, confidence, speaking skills. So now I can be [where I am today] and at least have some sort of insight when I [work with] the young. I feel like music is even more important to kids now than when I was young. It’s everything now, with social media, and the fact that it’s on your phone—it’s just right there. So all of these kids, they want to rap. And I try to hear them out, I give them their space, and I just try to impart my old man wisdom and advice.
Mentee/Artist K.L.X and Johari James
ER: So tell me about Str8OuttaBklyn and how it came about. Working with youth is a big focus of what you do—why is that important to you?
JJ: When I was doing my music, I would shoot videos on my block. One time there was a kid across the street who wanted to be in the video, so he was in it with his little sister and a couple other people. Then he wanted to tell me that he could rap, so I was like, “Alright, cool, man.” So he starts rapping, and he’s good. I formed a little bond with him. He was maybe 11 or 10 at that time, and he would always bug me to [let him] come to the studio. So I told his mom, and I started taking him around. I kind of took him under my wing, so to speak. And then one day it happened really organically—his mom was there, and in the moment, she just told him something like, “Listen to your mentor,” you know what I mean? And that’s when it all came together. It was that moment where you’re just like: “Oh shoot. Oh wow. Okay, that’s cool, that’s interesting.”
It was powerful to me, because I wasn’t necessarily calling myself his mentor, but it made me just reflect on what I had already been doing, and say, “Okay, I know that I can do this. At least I think I can do this, and I’m willing to give it a shot.”
So then I started having him come work with me. He would bring his friend around, and his other friend, so now I have like eight boys at my door. Literally wake up in the morning, I got eight boys at my door and they’re like, “Yo, what’s up? We need something to do today.” And I would be like, “Okay, you all are going to clean up my yard. You all are going to sweep the street, and I’m going to give you all $30 each” or whatever it may be, just doing things like that. Then that turned into resume workshops, interview workshops, and stuff like that. And if they were into music, I would bring them to the studio.
It was powerful to me, because I wasn’t necessarily calling myself his mentor, but it made me just reflect on what I had already been doing, and say, ‘Okay, I know that I can do this. At least I think I can do this, and I’m willing to give it a shot.’
So last year, I started putting on events like the Artist & Repertoire Show, which was an event to highlight artists of his age. He’s sixteen now, that kid. So just highlighting and giving those kids that are thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen—that age—a space where they can come express themselves, and know that like, yo, there’s somebody out there that gives a damn about them outside of school.
Because that’s the thing, you’re in school for a certain amount of time, then you get out of school and into the streets, it’s like, that’s it. You’re lucky if they’re in school.
Johari James and Mentee Youth Workers at Str8OuttaBklyn’s ‘Clean Up Nice’ Neighborhood Cleanup, 2021
So I was doing this mentoring, and when it was time for me to name my business, I wanted to name it Str8OuttaBklyn. I knew that that represented what I wanted to do, which was, plain and simple, to create a better Brooklyn, starting with my own neighborhood, and give the youth in my neighborhood as many opportunities as I can, offering resources, and providing them with a better Brooklyn than what I grew up in and what it is kind of turning back into. It’s an interesting space where Brooklyn is at right now. It’s in a real weird place.
I got the name from the [1991] movie Straight Out of Brooklyn [directed by Matty Rich]. It’s in that genre of Juice and Boyz n the Hood, but it was a lot more low-production. It’s a really good movie and it was really impactful to me. I wrote an album titled Str8OuttaBklyn, kind of using that movie as a visual motif to follow with my songs. So Str8OuttaBklyn just stuck with me.
ER: Is there anything you want to share about what’s coming up for Str8OuttaBklyn? Any plans or anything you’re excited about working on this year?
JJ: Yeah, we just started putting together our summer programming. We were awarded another grant, the Brooklyn Arts Council grant. So this summer, our first event in June is our School’s Out event, which is a concert and summer youth employment fair. We have three high schools so far, and we’re looking to coordinate with about five to seven different schools. Students from those schools will come out, perform, and do their thing in different genres and disciplines of talent. They’ll also be able to get in touch with people that can offer them jobs.
Str8OuttaBklyn’s School’s Out event flier
Then we have a cleanup that we’re doing in July. The neighborhood cleanups are something I started doing last year, just on my block with the kids. It’s a good way to get the youth outside and active. We collaborate with the local block associations and the local community gardens, and we gather people—all the neighbors, have youth come out, and we coordinate with the sanitation department. We barbecue and whatnot, not a block party, but a little event and cleanup.
Then we have some music classes. We’re working with a Black-owned bar restaurant in my neighborhood here called Gems Lounge; they’re offering their space for a lot of different community events. That’s where we did the [Artist & Repertoire] show that [The Laundromat Project] sponsored in November, where we were able to give away food and turkeys. They’re going to provide their space and we’re doing some free music classes with teaching artists. We have DJing, beat making, guitar playing, drumming, all these different disciplines. So I have a lot of people to educate and assist with getting the youth on board and keeping them active in the summer.
And then we’ll end the summer with another Artist & Repertoire back-to-school event, same kind of format with the concert. We’ll have arcade games and just try to just make another fun activity. The whole concept for us is creating safe spaces, specifically, like I said, in this community. In East Brooklyn, there’s not a lot of activities or things to do on a casual level for a kid.
My ultimate goal in the next two to three years is really to build a community hub where we put a spin on, or update rather, the standard idea of a community center, like the YMCA and Boys & Girls [Club] type of thing, where it’s more technologically advanced. This would be something more on the lines of BRIC in Downtown Brooklyn, but something that’s more freeing. We’ll have a fresh market, retail, a community space that’s funded and run by the residents of the neighborhood.
I actually think every neighborhood needs to have a really dope community center, and they should all work within a network that the community can rely upon. There’s too many barriers between residents and local politicians and people that can make change on a direct level. So that’s one of the goals that we have.
ER: That’s super exciting. It’s great to hear about everything you all have going on this summer, and I love your vision for a community community center that’s run by residents and self-determined, that’s really powerful. Imagining all of these hubs throughout different neighborhoods and the connections those hubs could have between themselves is a beautiful vision. Thank you for sharing all that. This brings me to my last question. You seem like a very entrepreneurial person. I’m wondering what advice you might give to someone who has their own ideas that they hope to bring to life? What have you learned through your own experience that you would share?
JJ: You should write down your ideas and whatever plan it is that you have, no matter how big or crazy or scary, just write it down. In your phone, on your wall, however you gotta do it. And then you should write down the steps and figure out how you’re going to get there. I think it empowers you, because it’s in stone, it’s there. And then writing down what it takes to get there, but not overwhelming yourself with the steps. I was in a meeting yesterday, actually, and that’s one of the things Yogi [also known as Y?, founder of Creative Expressions] told me, who was one of the people who taught me how to write grants. The [grant writing] process can be overwhelming, and it’s easy to be overwhelmed by things when you look at the whole big picture.
I’m gonna quote him, he was saying: “Some days you just gotta say, ‘Step one, stand up. Step two, walk. Step three, get water. Step four, drink it. Step five, go outside.’” You have to break it down that simple. So if you have your plan and it’s five steps, those five steps might turn into 25 steps, because each step might be five mini steps. But just try to see it through. That’s the last part really, just try to see it through.
Johari James and volunteers for Str8OuttaBklyn’s Holiday Golden Giveback Event at Stone Ave Library in Brownsville, 2017
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Born and raised in Brooklyn, NY, Johari Nova James is a youth mentor, business owner, community activist, hip hop artist, and artist manager. Through his company Str8OuttaBklyn Media LLC, he creates employment opportunities for youth, as well as youth and community initiatives such as art programs, neighborhood cleanups, youth resume workshops, etc. Creating safe and sustainable spaces in the Black community, controlled by community residents, is at the core of what Johari and Str8OuttaBklyn Media is all about.
“Today, among the many envelopes in New York City Mayor Eric Adams’s mailbox was one particularly notable letter: a request for $100 million in funding for cultural groups run by or for Black, Latinx, Indigenous, Asian, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern, and other people of color (POC).
The missive was sent by the small nonprofit Hue Arts NYC, and accompanies the organization’s first “Brown Paper” report about the state of POC arts groups in the city’s cultural ecosystem, also released today. Both documents paint a sobering picture for such outfits, which are often vital to their communities yet under-funded by the city.”
NYC POC-Led Arts Entities Launch Digital Map, Directory, and Release Policy Framework; Call for $100M City Fund to Close Cultural Equity Gap
Today, The Laundromat Project is joining together with 412 other New York City-based arts entities founded by, led by, and serving Black, Latinx, Indigenous, Asian, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern, and all People of Color (POC), calling for leaders of our city’s cultural community to create a $100M fund to support POC-led arts entities, and to address gaps in cultural equity across the city. This call is part of the launch of HueArts NYC, the only citywide effort to bring greater cultural equity, visibility, and support to all POC cultural institutions and initiatives across NYC’s five boroughs.
Following an extensive series of surveys, interviews, and community conversations with POC arts community leaders, we have released the HueArts NYC “brown paper” report with our partners Museum Hue and Hester Street. The report, “Mapping a Future for Arts Entities Founded and Led by Black, Indigenous, Latinx, Asian, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern, and All People of Color in New York City,” outlines the unique contributions, assets, and challenges of POC arts entities in the face of persistently limited resources and support. It also includes six key findings and six recommendations NYC policymakers and philanthropic leaders can take to radically shift cultural equity across the city.
For decades, POC leaders in our arts community have advocated for policy changes that would make the difference between our POC-led arts entities surviving or thriving. An initiative like this is far overdue, and so is receiving the meaningful support equal to the contributions we make in keeping New York so vibrant and special.
Kemi Ilesanmi, Executive Director, The Laundromat Project
Accompanying the release of the brown paper is a first-of-its-kind digital map and directory spotlighting more than 400 POC arts entities serving NYC neighborhoods. These tools capture critical information about the work, people, communities, and opportunities that POC arts entities offer to shape NYC’s cultural fabric and help fuel the city’s creative economy.
Image: Neighbors drum together at the 2019 Kelly Street Annual Block Party. Photo: Abigail Montes.
“Having this data compiled and visualized in this way is a critical starting point for the city to understand our needs, and for our communities to connect with and support each other,” said Rasmia Kirmani, Interim Executive Director at Hester Street, the HueArts NYC project partner that created the design for the map and directory, website, and brown paper. “This is the first time we are organizing together, across all five boroughs, and utilizing technology to move the conversation forward in a practical and tangible way.”
HueArts NYC is sharing the findings of the HueArts NYC brown paper in a letter addressed to Mayor Eric Adams, asking for inclusion of the recommendations in his vision for the future of NYC arts and culture. The letter to Mayor Adams, HueArts NYC Map and Directory, and HueArts NYC brown paper are all available at hueartsnyc.org.
So often we hear that NYC’s policymakers and philanthropic leaders can’t find or are unfamiliar with Black, Latinx, Indigenous, Asian, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern, and all People of Color arts organizations when it’s time to make critical decisions that impact our present and future. HueArts NYC changes that. Now, we have a platform that centers our arts organizations’ contributions to the city’s arts landscape and creative economy, a map of where we are in every community, and clear recommendations to address our needs. This will help our city’s political, philanthropic, and cultural leaders increase collaboration and financial support for our arts organizations, and will have a measurable impact on neighborhoods in all five boroughs.
Stephanie A. Johnson-Cunningham, Executive Director, Museum Hue
NYC arts organizations are invited to submit their information to the HueArts NYC Map and Directory. Entities are chosen according to criteria that ensures featured organizations are founded by, led by, and directly serving Black, Latinx, Indigenous, Asian, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern, and all people of color. The map and directory will be updated bi-annually.
Image: Neighbors weave together as part of a workshop facilitated by Weaving Hand and organized by 2017 Create Change Bed-Stuy Fellows. The LP Bed-Stuy Field Day, Hancock Community Garden, 2017. Photo by Neha Gautam.
“When you consider how much money disproportionately goes to NYC’s predominately white institutions compared to the creative outputs by people of color and our community organizations, you get a better understanding of why our institutions sometimes fail to thrive,” said Libertad O. Guerra, Executive Director of the Clemente Soto Vélez Cultural and Educational Center and HueArts NYC Advisory Committee member. “It’s not from lack of effort, it’s due to lack of support. HueArts NYC is our effort to make sure all of NYC understands where we are, what we do, and how they can support us—whether that is coming through the door, sharing information about our work on social media, or proposing a policy that will level the playing field in ways that will make a real difference for our POC entities, artists, cultural workers, and communities of color.”
Key findings of the HueArts NYC brown paper include:
POC arts entities are deeply embedded in their communities, and often relied upon to provide more than just arts programming.
POC arts entities are often connected to a sense of place and neighborhood, but rarely have a truly stable space of their own.
POC arts entities are resourceful and resilient in the face of a long history of structural racism, chronic under-investment, and limited financial support.
The dearth of data and metrics on POC arts entities in NYC is significant and remarkable, creating barriers to a truly comprehensive field knowledge, visibility, and impact.
Increased staff capacity and ability to support artists are urgent and fundamental priorities for POC arts entities.
POC arts entities face extra layers of challenges to secure adequate funding in comparison to predominantly white-led arts institutions.
The six recommendations for leaders of NYC’s policymaking and philanthropic community include:
Create a designated $100M fund for POC arts and cultural entities
Establish a substantive baseline budget line for POC arts in the City’s annual budget
Invest in place as a long-term strategy for POC art stability and thriveability
Foster career- and community-building among arts professionals at POC arts entities
Consistently collect data that furthers knowledge and promotes equity in the arts
Invest in higher and sustained visibility for POC arts entities in NYC
The HueArts NYC Advisory Committee comprises POC arts leaders from across the NYC cultural community, including:
Amy Andrieux, Museum of Contemporary African Diasporan Arts
Mahen Bonetti, African Film Festival, Inc.
Andrew Clarke, Braata Productions
Diane Fraher, American Indian Artists Inc.
Lisa Gold, Asian American Arts Alliance
Libertad O. Guerra, The Clemente Soto Vélez Cultural & Educational Center
Lorna Harris, Visionary GPS
Jerron Herman, Independent Artist
Jordyn Jay, Black Trans Femmes in the Arts
Swati Khurana, Independent Artist
Sade Lythcott, National Black Theatre
Kyoung Park, Kyoung’s Pacific Beat
Charles Rice-Gonzalez, Bronx Academy of Arts and Dance
In the coming months, HueArts NYC will continue collaborating with Black, Latinx, Indigenous, Asian, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern, and all People of Color arts entities to present a fuller picture of the artistic activities led by POC-arts organizations across New York State. The initiative will also assist in the creation of programs that center POC-led arts entities.
HueArts NYC has been made possible through support from the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, the New York State Council on the Arts, the New York City Council, the Ford Foundation, and The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation.
For more information and to access the HueArts NYC ‘Brown Paper,’ Map and Directory, visit hueartsnyc.org.
Happy Black History Month, LP fam. This month, we’ve compiled a (non-exhaustive!) list of some creative projects and community-building initiatives that preserve and celebrate Black history, or envision and build Black futures throughout New York City. Let these Create & Connect projects expand your imagination, and see how creativity is a tool in the practice of self-determination.
1. United Order of Tents, Eastern District #3
If you’ve ever taken a walk through Bed-Stuy, perhaps you’ve come upon 87 MacDonough Street, a mansion with a sign posted above the doorway reading: Eastern District Grand Tent #3, Grand United Order of Tents of BKLYN.
Established in secrecy in the 1800s, the United Order of Tents is a Black womens’ benevolent society: an abolitionist mutual aid group that initially provided aid to those escaping slavery via the Underground Railroad.
Their Eastern District headquarters in Bed-Stuy has come out of secrecy to better solve local issues and serve the community, especially elderly neighbors, through the bonds of sisterhood. The Tents Eastern District #3 was awarded our Bed-Stuy Create & Connect Fund grant to host an event in May 2022. The event will bring together Bed-Stuy neighbors to participate in a community art project documenting stories of mutual aid for future generations.
2. Meditating for Black Lives
“We breathe now, because they could not.” This sentiment grounds the work of Meditating for Black Lives, a group founded by Bed-Stuy resident Brittany Micek that leads community meditation sessions in public spaces throughout Brooklyn.
Building on the principles and practices of various meditation traditions, their sessions support healing from racial and systemic oppressions. Through guided contemplative practice, community members are provided space to process absorbed traumas and channel the energy of their breath into a future of healing for Black people, Brown and Indigenous people, and the world at large.
Photo credit:Naeem Douglas
3. The Garden
The creators of The Garden know that if a community can celebrate, read, and learn together, they can organize for liberation together.
The Garden is a Black, Bed-Stuy-based, pop-up abolitionist bookstore and community space. Their mission is to reignite and nurture collective imagination in service of Black Liberation. Their lending library distributes books on abolition and Black activism, both historical and contemporary, to help resource the local Black community for a future of liberation.
In addition to the library, The Garden produces their own accessible educational material about abolition, hosts reading and writing circles, participates in mutual aid projects, and celebrates Black joy and stories through community-led events.
Follow them on Instagram at @abolitionisagarden to tune in to their work, catch their next pop-up, or get involved. Photo credit: Aaron Ni’jai.
4. The Mutual Aid Society
The concept of mutual aid entered many of our vocabularies during the beginning of the pandemic, as we saw everyday people start free fridges, fund drives, and food shares across NYC. Mutual aid is about interdependence, and putting the power in our own hands to care for one another in situations where local or federal governments fall short.
Working in the spirit of preservation is artist and Create Change alum Selamawit Worku. Her project, The Mutual Aid Society, is an audio storytelling archive and limited series podcast documenting stories of innovative mutual aid amongst Black, Indigenous, and POC communities.
Mutual Aid Society creates a record of care-work happening today whose legacy we can look back on in the future. Each episode of the show touches on a different theme as the guests share personal stories, current offerings and ethos, and speculative discussion on regeneration and healing.
Take a listen to hear from many LP family artists like Kendra J. Ross, Aisha Shillingford, and Ogemdi Ude. Support the podcast by subscribing, reviewing, and rating it on any streaming platform, and keep up with it on Instagram at @mmutualaidsociety. Artwork by Anum Ranjhaa; produced byNykeba Sonubi; musical score by Jason C. Smith.
5. Mu-Te-Or of the National Association of Negro Musicians
What can Black cultural preservation look like? Formed in Bed-Stuy in 1931, The Musicians-Teachers-Organists Branch (Mu-Te-Or) of the larger National Association of Negro Musicians is preserving “America’s original music: the Negro Spiritual, Jazz, and Blues.” The group also promotes youth, college musicians, and emerging musicians of color.
With support from the Create & Connect Fund, the branch is currently preparing a panel of musical historians and performers to learn how Bedford-Stuyvesant churches and choirs helped these original genres flourish. The event will bring together a multi-generational audience to connect with the music of the ancestors, and hear about how the strategic and creative use of language in song transcends time, generations, and genres, to express struggle, protest, resilience, and joy.
Gabrielle joined The LP team as our Interim Director of Programs in January 2022 and will be contributing to our community engagement efforts, artist development programming, and other initiatives. Get to know more about Gabrielle below!
In what neighborhood do you live?
Washington Heights
How did you first become connected to The LP, or hear about The LP?
My relationship with The LP is a long one! I first got to know The LP in 2014 after I’d created a curriculum based on the work of poet Sekou Sundiata with MAPP International, and The LP reached out to work with me on a curriculum they were creating. Since then, there are so many collaborations—from bringing my students to The LP’s home on Kelly Street to interviewing Kemi [Ilesanmi, Executive Director] & Petrushka [Bazin-Larsen, The LP’s first Director of Programs] for my “Working with People” project, to leading the organization through its strategic planning process, all of which have been highlights of my work.
Do you have your own creative practice? If so, tell us more!
I’m a photographer and writer, and I run an interdisciplinary practice with my partner Kaushik Panchal, called Buscada. We make projects—exhibitions, public art engagements, books, and events—that create vital spaces for dialogue by fusing arts, design, and research. We often collaborate with community in contested neighborhoods with the goal of fostering more just cities. My book, Contested City, is about one of our long-time projects with housing activists on the Lower East Side.
Can you tell us about an artist or project that has inspired you?
I’m inspired by the artists I grew up around, starting with my mom, Winnie Bendiner-Viani, who’s a visual artist, and my grandfather, Elmer Bendiner, who was a writer, and extending to the people who I grew up with as family: most especially painter Jack Whitten and poet Hettie Jones. My dad Paul Viani inspired me to make photographs. The photographic work of artists like Carrie Mae Weems, Roy de Carava, and Gabriele Basilico helped me think about photographs as poems, as storytellers about place and people.
What is your favorite… film? …album? …food?
My favorite album is Horace Silver’s The Cape Verdean Blues. My favorite food is Kaushik’s chicken curry.
Where do you do your laundry?
The basement of our apartment building.
In your opinion, why does art matter?
Art matters because it helps us ask new questions and have necessary conversations.
What LP value do you most relate to and why?
I’m invested in all of the values of The LP—engaging deeply with what it means to “Be POC Centered,” for example, has reshaped the way I’ve thought about not just The LP, but about radical possibilities in other organizations I’m part of—from institutions of higher ed, to the DEI committee at my son’s public school. But, in this particular moment of The LP’s work, I am especially excited about “Value Place,” and to be helping the organization think though its process of grounding itself in Bed-Stuy. The layered meaning of neighborhoods, and the way arts practices can honor and understand these, is central to everything I do.
Artist, curator, and urbanist Dr. Gabrielle Bendiner-Viani is founder of Buscada, which creates vital spaces for dialogue to foster more just cities by fusing art, design, and research. She is author of Contested City: Art and Public History as Mediation at New York’s Seward Park Urban Renewal Area (University of Iowa Press, 2019)—finalist for the Municipal Art Society’s Brendan Gill Prize—and teaches urban studies at Bryn Mawr College & the New School. Gabrielle’s creative practice has been shown at MIT, Brooklyn Public Library, the Center for Architecture, Artists Alliance, the Sheila C. Johnson Design Center, and Tate Britain. She is a life-long New Yorker.
The Laundromat Project is excited to announce the 2022 cohort of creative practitioners selected to participate in our 17th annual Create Change Artist Development Program! The cohort will collaborate with New York City communities of color to develop and implement creative projects that deepen trust, build relationships, and leverage the power of creativity for positive social change.
2022 Create Change programming, which includes the Create Change Fellowship and the Create Change Residency, will combine cultural organizing and community-building strategy workshops with hands-on instruction in creative engagement. Faculty includes Ebony Noelle Golden (Betty’s Daughter Arts Collaborative), Urban Bush Women, Fernanda Espinosa, and Laundromat Project staff, among others.
“The Laundromat Project has a long history of working with artists and cultural producers to strengthen their creative practice while building stronger relationships between neighbors,” said Kemi Ilesanmi, Executive Director of The Laundromat Project. “As communities all across the city are able to reconvene and reconnect after so much isolation the past two years, we could not be more eager to support and empower artists and creative problem solvers, whose role in the resilience of NYC remains essential. We look forward to an inspiring year collaborating with this powerful cohort of artists.”
Each Create Change Artist-in-Residence will receive $20,000 in funding, and will collaborate with an array of local partners to develop their projects, addressing themes of cultural preservation, history, identity, and community wellness.
Create Change Fellows will develop and practice strategies for making community-engaged art programming over a rigorous six month period. Fellows will work on proposals to amplify local cultural resources in Bed-Stuy that center the voices and histories of long term residents, small business owners, youth, activists, cultural institutions, and artists. For the second consecutive year in 2022, Create Change Fellows will receive stipends for their participation in the program.
THE LAUNDROMAT PROJECT 2022 CREATE CHANGE COHORT
Artists-in-Residence
JAMEL BURGESS Archiving East New York East New York, Brooklyn Archiving East New York is a community archival project highlighting counter narratives about communities of color in East New York, Brooklyn. Jamel Burgess and community members will produce an accessible digital platform including oral histories and multimedia elements to educate East New York residents and the general public about the Brooklyn neighborhood.
IBI IBRAHIM Reclaiming Realities: The Yemeni American Experience City-wide Reclaiming Realities is a photo and oral history project documenting Yemeni American bodega workers across New York City. The project will explore themes of home, multi-national identity, and the enduring impact on Yemenis and Yemeni Americans of political events such as the Yemen War and travel ban.
KENDRA J. ROSS The Sankofa Residency Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn The Sankofa Residency is a multi-phase project by Kendra J. Ross and collaborators rooted in the history of Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, and an Afrofuturist imagining of Bed-Stuy moving forward. The project uses research, oral history, and collaborative imagining through dance to facilitate a plan for local residents, businesses, and stakeholders to emerge from the COVID-19 pandemic in a place of healing, thriving, and progress.
CHERYL WING-ZI WONG Reflective Urbanisms: Mapping NY Chinatown Reflective Urbanisms: Mapping NY Chinatown is a storytelling project about Manhattan’s Chinatown community as told through its built environment. The project will map Chinatown through changes the buildings and streets have undergone over time, and through community stories about the activities that took place there.
Fellows
KYRA ASSIBEY BONSU Community development, oral storytelling, writing, event production | Crown Heights, Brooklyn
JESSICA CORTEZ Applied theater | Crown Heights, Brooklyn
The 2022 Create Change program cohort was selected by the 2022 Artist & Community Council: Prerana Reddy, Artist & Community Fellow at Recess; Bianca Mońa, artist, Create Change alum, and Culture Push Fellow; and Anthony Buissereth, Executive Director of North Brooklyn Neighbors.
Members of the press are invited to attend a virtual meet and greet with the 2022 Create Change artists on January 18, 2022. Register to attend.
ABOUT CREATE CHANGE
Established in 2006, The LP’s flagship Create Change Residency program has evolved into a leading artist development model that builds and nourishes creative community leaders. Through the residency, The LP supports three innovative socially engaged creative endeavors across NYC annually. Create Change resident artists develop community-responsive projects that make use of the unique social space of their location.
In 2011, in response to participant feedback, The LP established the Create Change Fellowship to train artists who are newer to a socially engaged creative practice. Each year, the Fellowship provides a select group of diverse creative practitioners with 120+ hours of a combination of workshops (theory) and arts-based community engagement processes (practice), aimed to help them develop, deepen, and enact a community engaged creative practice.
Over the past 16 years, The LP has supported 180+ artists. Alumni of the program include: Tomie Arai, Raul Ayala, Chloë Bass, LaTasha Diggs, Fernanda Espinosa, Rachel Falcone, Sukjong Hong, Rasu Jilani, Shani Peters, Michael Premo, Kameelah Janan Rasheed, and Betty Yu. The LP aims to foster and support creative community leaders who are empowered by, committed to, and fully conversant in community-attuned art practices.
FUNDERS
The Create Change program is made possible in part by The Bay & Paul Foundations; The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation; Artha Foundation; Ford Foundation; Jerome Foundation; Robert Sterling Clark Foundation; The New York Community Trust Van Lier Fellowship Program; the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs in partnership with the City Council; and the New York State Council on the Arts. The Create Change Fellowship is supported in part by our Catalyst Circle members—become a Catalyst here.
We are building a resilient institution for artists and communities of color and those who understand that creativity can change the world, and most importantly, their local communities, for the better.
Join us in welcoming Salvador Muñoz to The LP fam! Salvador recently joined our board of directors—read our short Q&A to get to know him!
The LP: As a supporter of the arts, why does art matter?
Salvador Muñoz: Art is a powerful catalyst for change and growth. Art expands our limitations of what is possible, allows us to envision a better world and to channel our creative production into manifesting that world.
LP:What attracted you to The LP and excited you most about joining the board?
Salvador: As an alum of The LP’s Create Change Program and Artist Residency, I couldn’t be more thrilled to be joining the board! The Laundromat Project has had a huge influence on my work as an artist, cultural worker, and arts administrator, and I’m excited to leverage my skills to be in greater service to the organization and the artists and communities they serve.
LP: What is your neighborhood? What’s your favorite thing about it?
Salvador: Bed-Stuy! My favorite thing about my neighborhood is the culture of resilience, especially among long-time residents.
LP: Can you tell us about a project/event/moment that was a particular highlight of your personal/professional work?
Salvador: My recently-completed Van Lier fellowship and solo exhibition at Wave Hill. This was my largest work to date and it was a pleasure to be able to share it with my communities.
LP: What song gets you moving and going when work gets hard?
Salvador: Anything by Megan Thee Stallion
LP: What’s your favorite home-cooked dish?
Salvador: Enchiladas
Salvador Muñozis a visual artist, cultural worker, and arts administrator based in Brooklyn, New York. His work strives to create and hold space for queer femmes & people of color and other marginalized communities. Salvador has exhibited at Wave Hill, Vox Populi, Brooklyn Academy of Music, Auxiliary Projects, Mayday Space, and many more. He was a Van Lier Fellow at Wave Hill in 2021, an Artist in Residence at Trestle Art Space in 2020, an Artist in Residence at The Laundromat Project in 2018, and a Culture Push Fellow in 2017. Salvador is currently the Public Programs Manager at Poster House, where he strives to make the museum more accessible to marginalized communities.
Join us in welcoming Diya Vij to The LP fam! Diya recently joined our board of directors—read our short Q&A to get to know her!
The LP:What attracted you to The LP and excited you most about joining the board?
Diya Vij: The LP is a model for all arts organizations who wish to invest in POC futures and lead with community-first values. Through the Create Change residency and fellowship as well as a breadth of special initiatives, The LP has been an incredible resource for artists to work locally and politically towards community change. I’ve personally worked with many LP alums and have benefited from The LP’s thought leadership in so many ways. I’m most excited to help usher The LP into a new phase, with a new building and growing support for this important work.
LP:Can you tell us about a project/event/moment that was a particular highlight of your personal/professional work?
Diya: One of the first projects I ever worked on in my art career was Immigrant Movement International, initiated by artist Tania Bruguera, with the Queens Museum and Creative Time in 2010. Established for the new immigrant community of Corona, Queens, it was part think tank, part community center, part political organizing hub, part art studio. Over the four years I worked at the Queens Museum, I was able to witness a long-term, artist-led, socially engaged art project first hand. I learned so much about the potential for art to build political power, create life-sustaining relationships, and ultimately enact community change. Those lessons have become the driving force of my work.
LP: What’s your favorite home-cooked dish?
Diya: Yellow daal is my go-to comfort food. It’s so simple: yellow split pea lentils, ginger, tumeric, some spices, some spinach. I make it like my mom makes it, like my Nani made it. Enough to feed the whole house for days and whoever might drop by.
Diya Vij is the Associate Curator at Creative Time and is committed to critically investigating the evolving role of public art in politics and civic life. Over the past decade, she has held programming, curatorial, and communications positions at the High Line, the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs (DCLA), and the Queens Museum. As the Associate Curator of Public Programs at the High Line, she organized dozens of live events and performances with artists, activists, practitioners, and healers. At DCLA, Vij launched and co-directed the Public Artists in Residence (PAIR) program. Additionally, she was a project lead for the Agency’s citywide Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiative, and played an active role in public monument efforts, as well as CreateNYC—New York City’s first cultural plan. She was a curatorial fellow and the communications manager at the Queens Museum from 2010–2014.
In every aspect of our work, The Laundromat Project channels our belief that in an abundant community, we lift one another up, we reciprocate, and when we come into good fortune, we pay it forward.
In that spirit, we’re excited to share that our annual People-Powered Challenge will look a little different this year. While typically the challenge is a peer-to-peer fundraiser, this year we are fortunate to have received a generous gift from MacKenzie Scott and Dan Jewett, so we’re choosing to spread the love.
We wouldn’t be where we are today without the greater ecosystem of creative organizations, partners, and individuals who believe in the catalytic power of art and community. Next week, we will support and celebrate 5 grassroots entities working to create change in their own communities with a no-strings-attached award of $10,000 each from The LP!
From October 25–29, join us for People-Powered Pay-it-Forward to be as inspired as we are by their incredible work.
Kelly Street Garden uses food and culture as the entry point to healing their community. The garden functions as a vehicle for addressing generational trauma which has caused many health disparities resulting from systemic racism. Make a contribution to Kelly Street—select Kelly Street Garden in the Citizen Action Groups dropdown menu. Follow on social media: @kellystgreen.
The W.O.W. Project is a women, non-binary, queer, trans led, community-based initiative that works to sustain ownership over Chinatown Manhattan’s future by growing, protecting and preserving Chinatown’s creative culture through arts, culture and activism. Support W.O.W. Project. Follow them on social media @wowprojectnyc.
The Literary Freedom Project (LFP) is committed to creating spaces that help elevate cultural narratives. Their programs value the variety of histories and cultures found in the Bronx and give educators & residents places to build community and explore social engagement. Support LFP. Follow them on social media @literaryfreedomproject.
BlackSpace bridges gaps between people, place, and power to realize racial justice with Black communities. Working on a national scale, they manifest justice through design and urban planning. Donate to BlackSpace. Follow them on social media @blackspaceorg.
STooPS connects the Bed-Stuy neighborhood with a big ol’ block party, classes, and opportunities for artistic expression in unconventional spaces—to make art accessible while honoring the local and valuing creators. Support STooPS. Follow them on social media @stoopsbedstuy.
The Fulton Street window commission is a yearly project whereThe Laundromat Project commissions a 2-D image or illustration from a local artist. The vinyl artwork lives on the public-facing window of The LP’s office at 1476 Fulton Street in Brooklyn for one calendar year, creating an outdoor art installation that engages neighbors and passersby. Destiny Belgrave is the inaugural artist to create artwork for this commission. Her piece, titled “They Hold Me,” depicts care and belonging through the embrace of an ancestor. We reached out to Destiny with some questions to hear more about her creative practice and the inspirations that influence her work.
The Laundromat Project:Tell us a little bit about yourself. Where are the places and people that ground you and your work?
Destiny Belgrave: I’m Destiny Belgrave, I spent most of my childhood in Crown Heights and Bed-Stuy. I am of Bajan and African American backgrounds and I identify as bicultural. I love food and love exploring through what I can consume. For me, I am grounded through the spiritual and familial. My family, ancestry, cultures, collective memory, and the lands that I call home all give myself and my work a foundation to stand on.
Daddy, 2019, Papercut
LP: You work in a variety of mediums but your work in cut paper and collage really stands out. What about that medium speaks to you and how did you come to it?
DB: I happened upon papercuts and collage by happenstance. I’ve enjoyed collage in the past in high school, but didn’t really think much of it. Fast forward to college and I’m primarily working with digital media, but also thinking in my mind about how I’d like to move away from it a bit and work more traditionally, you know, just in case technology stops being accessible to me. Lo and behold, my computer quits on me and I now have to make work without it. I suddenly have to actually figure this out. From there I just made a mixed media piece using paper, and I kept exploring paper, and now here I am.
The more I worked in paper, the more I realized I love paper. It’s a timeless medium, for years it’s been used to record history, tales and traditions. I use paper for the same things, but for my own loved ones—recording our collective memories, experiences and histories. What I also love about paper is its flexibility and just how many amazing types of textures, colors, and appearances it can have. I’m a bit of a perfectionist, and the lines and forms that I can get from cutting paper are so clean and gorgeous: sharper than what I could do with pencil, paint, etc.
Basically, paper is amazing.
LP: Themes of family, care, and spirituality run throughout your work and are illustrated in a very figurative way. What are some of the influences or inspirations for your focus and how you choose to draw your subjects?
DB: I use family photos, my own memories, family members’ memories, and intuition to make my work. Whatever feels particularly compelling from those sources, I’ll build off of. Like if I find a photo that makes me feel really warm and fuzzy, or it’s composed really nicely, or if my mother tells me a story about her mother and it moves me, then I’ll make something using that. Essentially everything starts from a familial image, memory, or tale that moves me in some sort of way. I have to feel something and be connected to what I’m referencing in the work.
After The Christening, 2019, Mixed Media
LP:Your illustration for the window of the The Laundromat Project building on Fulton Street talks about ancestral love and support, how the idea of togetherness and bonding is a birthright for yourself and others. What is your advice for people wishing to cultivate more of this in their lives?
DB: Start small. These are very big grand concepts that can be overwhelming for someone. I would say get in tune with yourself a bit and extend outwards. Learn to bond with your body and spirit, and find individuals that feel good to be around. Every person you meet won’t be your close BFF, and that’s OK. Don’t force folks to fit into a mold, it’s OK to search for the bonds you want, but don’t force it.
LP: What do you love about Bed-Stuy?
DB: Bed-Stuy has a place in my heart: I remember it from what I experienced in my youth up until young adulthood. I loved the diversity and authenticity of the people and neighborhood. The mixing and mingling of different Black and brown cultures and peoples. Cheap yet filling ethnic foods, kids playing in the fire hydrants, hanging out on the stoop. Beautiful brownstones, neighborhood gardens. I definitely have a nostalgic view of Bed-Stuy, things are changing [now] and it saddens me, but I still got a lot of love for Bed-Stuy.
LP: What are you working on right now? How can people stay in touch with you?
DB: I have three shows in September, one at Future Fair, another at AIR Gallery and a third at Monique Meloche in Chicago. It’s been a busy time, I’m looking forward to treating myself and thanking my body properly after all of this. You can keep up with me through my Instagram @destinybelgrave and subscribing to my mailing list through my website at destinybelgrave.com.
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Destiny Belgrave (b.1996) was born and raised in Brooklyn NY and nurtured with a Bajan and African American upbringing. Belgrave graduated from the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) in 2018 with a BFA in General Fine Arts, and a concentration in Painting. Since then her work has been shown locally and internationally. Currently she is an A.I.R. Gallery Fellow and a resident of the BRIClab: Contemporary Art Residency. Belgrave is a mixed media whirlwind, almost always using papercuts as her primary medium and family as a source of inspiration.
This year, The LP has invited storyteller, artist, and scholar Piper Anderson to be our inaugural Radical Imagination Fellow, a year-long position supported by The David Rockefeller Fund. Piper is working with The LP staff, board, and artist community to deepen our organizational understandings around timely issues of abolition, healing justice, public memory, and the Black radical imagination. Using diverse strategies such as reading groups, writings, public events, and public art, Piper is leading The LP in examining our own structures and programming through these lenses. Get to know more about Piper!
The LP: What does radical imagination mean to you? Piper Anderson: It means removing the ceiling from our imaginations so that we can envision a future that is free of systems of punishment and oppression. It’s having the courage to believe that it is possible to create a world where we aren’t dependent on prisons and policing, and then working each day to build that future.
LP:In your opinion, why does art matter? PA: Art matters because it makes culture and shifts culture. You can’t create change without it. It challenges and transforms the collective each time we encounter a powerful work of art.
LP: Which LP value do you most relate to, and why? PA: “Write your own histories” appeals to me because so much of my work is about narrative transformation through uncovering erased or ignored collective memory. We can’t build the future without owning our pasts.
LP: What do you hope your Radical Imagination Fellowship achieves? PA: I hope that it inspires dialogue about the role of memory work in devising abolitionist strategies for community healing and transformation. I want to bring together abolitionists working to end criminalization and develop mutual aid strategies to document their work, and encourage them to create new archives that will be essential to transforming the entrenched narratives around punishment.
Piper Anderson is a writer, cultural organizer, healing practitioner, and founder of the social justice consultancy Create Forward. Through a TED Residency, she developed the innovative storytelling project Mass Story Lab, which traveled to thirteen cities across the US, bringing together communities to reckon with the impact of incarceration. In 2018, she co-founded the Rikers Public Memory Project, a community truth and healing initiative making the case for reparative justice in NYC through an oral history collection, and multimedia exhibit. She is a faculty member at NYU’s Prison Education Program and the Gallatin School.
The Laundromat Project is thrilled to announce our collaboration with partners at Museum Hue and Hester Street on a new, comprehensive online platform for NYC arts entities called HueArts NYC. Through a user-friendly map, searchable online directory, and field report, HueArts NYC will aggregate information on arts entities created by and centering Black, Latinx, Indigenous, Asian, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern, and all People of Color (POC) in New York City. To be released in December 2021, HueArts NYC will amplify impact and increase support for these performing and presenting arts entities. Starting today, the website huearts.nyc shares information about the project and allows the public to nominate groups for inclusion.
Along with Museum Hue and Hester Street, we want to create a dynamic, data-driven online resource spotlighting POC founded and focused arts entities of all scales and sizes throughout the city—including nonprofit, fiscally sponsored, and for profit groups. HueArts NYC will provide city agencies, policy makers, philanthropists, peer organizations, arts and culture enthusiasts, and the general public with robust information about these arts entities, increasing support for their critical contributions to city life.
As a POC-centered arts organization, The Laundromat Project is proud to be contributing to the creation of HueArts NYC, which will enable greater visibility and self-determination for POC spaces and the artists, creatives, and community members we support in manifesting new futures—for us, by us,” said The LP ED Kemi Ilesanmi.
Brittany joined The LP team as our Community Arts Engagement Fellow in April 2021 and will be working to support creative community building in Bed-Stuy. Get to know her!
In what neighborhood do you live?
East New York, Brooklyn
How did you first become connected to The LP, or hear about The LP?
I heard about The LP through word of mouth, and actually came across their old residence in Harlem as I was putting up flyers for a community event there.
What attracted you to The LP? How does working here relate to your professional goals?
What attracted me to The LP was their service in bridging connections, helping to shape humanity through relationship building, between artist and neighbors. By working at The LP, I am able to deepen my practice of building resilient communities, through shared resources that could provide necessary changes for bettering the people who live amongst one another.
Do you have your own creative practice? If so, tell us more!
My creative practice involves music, at the start of my day, inviting a movement improvisation through dance and writing.
Can you tell us about an artist or project that has inspired you?
An artist who has inspired me is Kendra J. Ross.
What is your favorite… film? …album? …food?
My favorite film is Nappily Ever After. My favorite album is Robert Glasper’s Black Radio. My favorite food is mussels and calamari, with fries.
Where do you do your laundry?
My neighborhood laundromat across from me, on Linden Boulevard.
In your opinion, why does art matter?
Art absolutely matters, because it sheds light on the culture of a people and place. It reflects the times, enabling us to learn from creative modalities, have cross cultural conversations as well as show how people can find their self determined power in generating (radical) imagination.
What LP value do you most relate to and why?
The LP value I relate the most to is Write Our Own Histories, because ownership of our narratives drives the actions that we do or don’t take. Stories help shape the structure of conversations, people and place.
Born and raised in Brooklyn, Brittany Grier began at Bedford Stuyvesant Restoration Dance Theater. While there, through West African dance, she learned about the griot: a storyteller carrying traditions. This would be the impetus for becoming part of community engaged work. She holds a Bachelor of Arts in dance from CUNY Lehman College. As an interdisciplinary artist and cultural worker, Brittany utilizes movement to build empowered communities. It comes through the intersection of dance, social justice, as well as storytelling and honoring legacies. The space she prepares is shaped through movement: a vehicle that helps drive connections between individual narrative and collective response.
This spring at The LP, we’re exploring creative place-keeping and radical mapping in Black, Indigenous, Latinx, Asian, Arab, and other communities of color. How can our communities creatively use practices like cultural asset mapping, cartography, and archiving to invest in and make meaning of our localities? How can these concepts and methods democratize the knowing, keeping, and making of people and place; help us write our own histories; and preserve space and culture?
We reached out to Emma Osore of BlackSpace—a national collective of Black urbanists comprising planners, architects, artists, and designers—to share the group’s approach to the creation and preservation of Black environments.
Black spaces can take an infinite number of forms. Black spaces are expansive—they can quickly move from tiny apartment to global phenomena. Black spaces are adaptive and can be made anywhere we show up as ourselves. Black spaces are layered, and when stacked just right, can enable our fullest expression and freedom.
We, as Black urbanists, are on a mission to create and protect the many spaces of Black significance in the built environment and the liberation and leadership of urbanists. We do this work in the face of our “Afro-actual” reality of public systems and urban planning fields that actively design for anti-Blackness. Where at its worst, redlining, highways through neighborhoods, exclusionary zoning, and state-sanctioned public violence are design interventions targeted specifically towards Black and marginalized people and communities in the US and globally. At best, within these fields, engagement with spaces in the margins is based in what is most lacking rather than in imaginative and creative possibilities rooted in what is working. BlackSpace is a part of a necessary movement to manifest Black futures. We started in NYC, and gathering around the word “urbanism / urbanists” is our way of breaking down silos to bring together planners, architects, artists, and designers—people who are passionate about the work of public systems and urban infrastructures. Through transdisciplinary community design and thought leadership, we have evolved into a national collective of about 60 people in 5 cities who are subverting urbanist fields and making design decisions centered on the needs and desires of Black and marginalized people, spaces, and cultures.
We first tune in to the assets of ourselves and the Black spaces around us. We then begin to listen to and learn from each other’s stories.
In our thought leadership, we share workshops and publish content, including the BlackSpace Manifesto, to advance creative approaches to acknowledging, affirming, and amplifying Black lives in public space, and to more freely express ourselves as Black urbanists.
In our community design, our practice of building with each other is also the way BlackSpace co-designs with partners. We first tune in to the assets of ourselves and the Black spaces around us. We then begin to listen to and learn from each other’s stories—in conversation over brunch, or through conversations with people at existing neighborhood gatherings. We then make a plan to gather and take some action together, whether it be a design sprint inside our organization to stretch our imagination, or a public activation that adds value and incorporates the desires of Black people. Through listening to each other’s memories and lived experiences, we are able to map the Black heritage of the built environment in a way that includes ephemeral, online, and tangible artifacts of the expansiveness of Black spaces. By listening for patterns and understanding the layering of our heritage and culture, we are able to identify networks and nodes of organizations, people, celebrations, and customs to advocate for and invest in together.
Black and white illustration of people biking, gardening, and relaxing on top of a city grid. Art by Julia Mata.
Of NYC’s 65 predominantly Black neighborhoods and over 1,700 Black urbanists, we have gathered urbanists consistently for the past five years to challenge and support each other at small apartment brunches and more recently across our network online. We have also worked in Brownsville, Brooklyn and in Boston, Massachusetts. Alongside community partners, we listened to people’s stories of their local space, prototyped activities that enlivened programming during existing events, mapped the stories tangibly, and co-designed and co-produced together to activate responsive events and structures.
In Brownsville, this manifested as an intergenerational pop-up storytelling tour, hosted by the local business improvement district’s annual harvest festival event, and featuring Brownsville’s Power in the Pen writers seated in 5 local artist-designed stations that reflected Black and neighborhood culture. Each young person received a story passport and traveled to the different stations as the writers read their published stories to 60 children and families, who, for completing the tour, all received candy bags made by the local car club—an annual Halloween tradition they adapted to work in collaboration.
Leveraging the modalities of design; love; creativity; and joyful, imaginative gathering opens the door to a world where we can advocate for and co-invest in the spaces that actually hold our expansiveness and honor our existence in the built environment.
In Boston, we took our approach and worked with a house and community for young women and non-binary people of color pursuing careers in tech in a house re-design process. We co-designed modular interior spaces to reflect the feelings of comfort and culture—like built-in niches in the foyer, where each new resident could publicly share an object of importance from their life’s story and see it have a home in collection with other residents’ stories. Or a modular seating arrangement in the dining room to reflect the residents’ African diasporic diversity—with some built-in options lower to the floor, seated at a table, or a hybrid of both.
Black and white illustration of a person sketching at a table with a city growing out of it. Text around the person reads: “Move at the speed of trust,” a quote by adrienne maree brown. Art by Julia Mata.
Throughout these processes, we incorporate reflection. Inside our collective, we bring our national network together for bi-annual project critiques and celebrations and make consensus-based business decisions. In neighborhood projects, we ensure our project planning includes the necessary room to pivot a project completely based on what we learn along the way, and to correct inevitable misunderstandings. In Brownsville, for example, we did not go in with expressed design outcomes outside of an interest in Black neighborhood cultural conservation. Instead, starting with listening and seeing where the process led, we had to incorporate some milestones and ground truth sessions to hold ourselves accountable. We called these moments synthesis sessions and prototyping; borrowing from the work of human-centered design. Making the milestones to share and show our work back to the public meant that we could stress test our learning in real time. With a tangible way to engage, people shared the strengths and weaknesses of how they perceived culture in the neighborhood, graciously corrected our spellings of important places, and opened us up to be checked on our purpose and privilege. This ultimately helped BlackSpace members to collaborate with the most aligned partners, like the Brownsville Heritage House and the Youth Design Center; adjust our project scope to be more clearly focused on intangible Black Brownsville history; and deepen our approach to thoughtful community design practice—resulting in the BlackSpace Manifesto.
In my own operational and creative leadership of BlackSpace, I hope to honor and contribute meaningfully to the present day and past legacy of Black space-making—and I especially want to to hold up the (in)visible blueprints laid for us through the work of Black, queer, womxn thinkers, builders, and organizers like Audre Lorde, Wangari Maathai, Andrea Roberts, Majora Carter, Toni Morrison, adrienne maree brown, and the Combahee River Women’s Collective. Through my work in BlackSpace, I’ve learned that as I offer abundance to the collective, I get it back in return. I too feel unstifled, more creatively expressed, and can practice radical lessons I’ve adopted of graceful resistance to the status quo, of building platforms to stand in our collective power, and creating sustainable solutions for our problems. Leveraging the modalities of design; love; creativity; and joyful, imaginative gathering opens the door to a world where we can advocate for and co-invest in the spaces that actually hold our expansiveness and honor our existence in the built environment. In this interconnected community building practice, we create the space and time to not only heal collectively from the injustices of urban planning and design, but also build upon the legacy of Black space-making. Black spaces have always been adaptable, expansive, and layered, and we believe that within our community is the freedom and springboard towards our collective future.
Emma Osore (she/her/hers) is a creative community builder, participatory designer, and social entrepreneur. In her focus on people-centered systems change, she supports emerging communities of anti-disciplinary creatives that transform culture.
She was the first Director of Community at the New Museum of Contemporary Art’s creative business incubator, NEW INC – resulting in its first majority-BIPOC membership, launched and led a new Equity in Arts Leadership portfolio, a half million dollar investment in BIPOC arts advocates at Americans for the Arts. She also co-founded BlackSpace where she led and now as its first Co-Managing Director – bringing thoughtfulness and imagination to the operational leadership of a growing collective.
She crafts community using techniques found in quilting, community gardening, corporate operations, immigrant economic organizing, Black feminist collectives, and her own mixed media art practice. Her work on space-making through culture, values, and heritage has been published by Columbia University Press and Deem Journal and shared with national audiences at Harvard University, HBO, Municipal Arts Society, Pratt University, and NYU. Emma earned her undergraduate degree in Urban and Regional Studies at Cornell University and her Master’s in Public Administration at Baruch College’s Marxe School for International and Public Affairs where she was a National Urban Fellow.
In the wake of ongoing racist violence against Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) communities, The LP would like to spotlight a number of AAPI-led organizations and groups whose work supports racial, social, and economic justice for AAPI people. As Yuri Kochiyama taught us, “We are all part of one another.”
Chinatown Art Brigade The Chinatown Art Brigade (CAB) is a collective of Asian-American artists, media makers, and activists with roots in New York City’s Chinatown neighborhood. Since 2015, CAB has facilitated a series of community-led responses to gentrification and displacement, created in partnership with the grassroots organization CAAAV & the Chinatown Tenants Union. CAB was in residence with The LP in 2019-2020 and founded by Create Change alumni Betty Yu and Tomie Arai (2012), alongside ManSee Kong.
CAAAV Founded in 1986, CAAAV Organizing Asian Communities works to build grassroots community power across diverse poor and working class Asian immigrant and refugee communities in New York City.
Red Canary Song Red Canary Song is a grassroots collective of Asian and migrant sex workers, centering basebuilding with workers through a labor rights framework and mutual aid. Rooted in Flushing, Queens, they organize Asian sex workers across the diaspora in Toronto, Paris, and Hong Kong.
Asian American Arts Alliance The Asian American Arts Alliance (A4) is a nonprofit organization working to ensuring greater representation, equity, and opportunities for Asian American artists and cultural organizations through resource sharing, promotion, and community building. They convene the Asian American cultural workforce around issues of race, identity, and artmaking.
Welcome to Chinatown Welcome to Chinatown supports local businesses and amplifies community voices in Manhattan’s Chinatown through pro bono resources.
Dive in to our resource guide to learn more about community asset mapping, using data for social justice, and more. This guide was originally compiled as part of our April 2021 event, Radical Mapping: Making Meaning in Our Communities. Watch recordings of the event here.
Black and white illustration of people biking, gardening, and relaxing on top of a city grid. By Julia Mata.
1. Reimagining Blackness and Civic Design
“Black spaces can take an infinite number of forms. Black spaces are expansive—they can quickly move from tiny apartment to global phenomena. Black spaces are adaptive and can be made anywhere we show up as ourselves. [ . . . ] Through listening to each other’s memories and lived experiences, we are able to map the Black heritage of the built environment in a way that includes ephemeral, online, and tangible artifacts of the expansiveness of Black spaces.” BlackSpace is a national collective of planners, architects, artists, designers, and urbanists working to co-create and preserve Black culture in the built environment. BlackSpace member Emma Osore writes about the group’s approach to creative place-keeping, and preservation of public systems and urban infrastructures for Black people. > Read the full piece on our blog
2. What is Community Asset Mapping?
Asset mapping is a map-making methodology that allows the mapper to understand and appreciate a place through the perspectives of those who live there. > Read about how and why this practice builds community via our blog
3. Do It Yourself: Community Asset Mapping Workbook
Engage in your own community asset mapping process with the help of this workbook! The CAM workbook is a central resource in The LP’s Create Change program, developed in partnership with Ebony Noelle Golden. > Start mapping
4. In Practice: Artists Share Their Community Asset Mapping Experience
We invited artists from our Create Change alumni community to share their own experiences with the process of community asset mapping, asking them to reflect on a set of prompts:
What is community asset mapping and how does it show up in your practice?
What opportunities does asset mapping offer to working in-community?
What is the relationship between asset mapping and place-keeping?
What do democratically informed asset mapping practices look like?
How can maps help tenants and tenants’ rights advocates in their fight for justice? In this short Q&A video, learn from Create Change alum Ariana Allensworth (Artist-in-Residence 2019-20) how she and collaborators at the Anti-Eviction Mapping Project (AEMP) use data visualization to help illuminate housing injustices and advocate for change. Ariana will be a panelist as part of Radical Mapping—register for the program to hear her in conversation about AEMP’s work!
Header Image: The Red Line Labyrinth, Walis Johnson. Aerial image of a person walking amongst a labyrinth made from red ropes, installed in a grass lawn.
Join us in welcoming Jessica Lee to The LP fam! Jessica recently joined our board of directors—read our short Q&A to get to know her.
The LP:As a supporter of the arts, why does art matter? Jessica Lee: The arts are at the core of everything—art is activism, art is empowerment, art is inspiration. Art is the medium through which so many express themselves and their experience and the medium through which so many finally understand the experience of others. For me, art is what I turn to at the end of a day or week (or sometimes in the middle of it) to lift me up.
LP: What attracted you to The LP and excited you most about joining the board? JL: I’ve heard about the work of The Laundromat Project for years and have been looking for ways to get involved. My board service has focused on the intersection of art and education. The LP takes that a few steps further, layering in activism and community empowerment. It’s everything I have been looking for from a board opportunity. I’m excited to be joining at this moment when the new space is opening and I look forward to seeing all of the new opportunities that will create.
LP: What is your neighborhood? What’s your favorite thing about it? JL: Fort Greene is the neighborhood where my heart lives. Even with all of the gentrification that has taken place, you can still feel the old Brooklyn energy running through it. Fort Greene Park and the Greenmarket are my favorite places to spend a Saturday.
LP: Can you tell us about a project/event/moment that was a particular highlight of your personal or professional work? JL: One of my proudest moments was a pro bono case I handled many years ago. I won asylum for a person who had been the subject of persecution based on sexual orientation in Jamaica. We were outside of our deadline to file, but she had begun a gender transition in that period and we were able to argue that that created a material change that essentially waived the timeliness issue. There was no precedence for this at the time. The US isn’t perfect, but I knew she was safer here and that win was a career highlight.
LP: What song gets you moving and going when work gets hard? JL: “Apeshit,” Beyoncé
LP: What’s your favorite home-cooked dish? JL: None. I am the cook in my house, so my favorite dishes are takeout.
Jessica Leehelps companies in the US and around the world launch, market, and monetize their digital products and content. She advises on everything from interest-based and addressable advertising, data analytics, location-based tracking, smart devices and wearables, to the use of emerging technologies, such as artificial intelligence, VR and AR, and facial recognition. Named one of Crain’s Notable Women in Law for 2019, Jessica is routinely called upon to speak on the privacy and cybersecurity concerns in advertising, media, adtech, and health tech. Jessica contributes her time to a number of community service projects and mentorship initiatives, including the Museum of Modern Art’s Friends of Education Committee.
Join us in welcoming Panthea Lee to The LP fam! Panthea recently joined our board of directors—read our short Q&A to get to know her!
The LP:As a supporter of the arts, why does art matter? Panthea Lee: bell hooks once said, “The function of art is to do more than tell it like it is—it’s to imagine what is possible.” This resonates with me deeply.
Much of my work revolves around advocating for just and equitable policies and bringing diverse communities together to co-create change. So I think a lot about how to shift societal structures and norms. Yet too often, I see that many folks are good at pointing out what is not working and what we don’t want, but struggle to be visionary around what it is that we do want—that is, we can’t imagine what a radically better future looks like. This, I believe, is because too often, we accept what’s offered by governments and powerful institutions as the starting points. But by letting them set the foundations and define the parameters, we’re often fighting for reforms that are too little, too late.
Fighting for crumbs is exhausting and demoralizing. And we’re seeing the real price of these impossible uphill battles. Around the world, surveys show that people are incredibly pessimistic about the future. Young people don’t expect to be better off than their parents, and don’t believe they can really influence the future. We face crises of imagination, especially when it comes to how we reverse our democratic and environmental crises. And our media ecosystems, where business models are incentivized to sow fear and divisiveness, exacerbate our sense of hopelessness. It can be paralyzing.
In this climate, art is more important than ever. Art holds immense power to reinvigorate our imaginations, and to rally diverse communities around bold visions for change.
Because people act not based on facts, but on emotion. And artists operate in the realm of meaning-making and emotions. They can help articulate and construct the new worlds that we know are possible, and help us experience and inhabit them. Even when these worlds are temporary, like at a show or a gathering, they still shape and move us. And if we can taste what liberation and justice feel like—for deliciousness and joy can’t be thought, they must be felt—then we’re more likely, more able to fight for them.
Art questions, invites, and incites. It can help us understand one another, find common ground, and shift culture. These ingredients are foundational for transforming our world, and that’s why art matters.
LP: What attracted you to The LP and excited you most about joining the board? PL: I’ve admired The LP for some time, but it was only in getting connected to Kemi [Ilesanmi, Executive Director], who is a force of nature—so visionary, so electrifying!—that I started digging deeper into the work. And each layer I dug into blew me away and gave me so much inspiration. For example, many organizations have values statements, but these either just sit in a document somewhere or only serve as abstracting guiding principles. I quickly realized this was not the case here. With The LP, I saw that “be propelled by love” and “write our own histories” weren’t just statements in a filing cabinet—the team lives and breathes these daily. Each gathering of The LP affirms these values, and shows how nurturing creativity, reclaiming agency, elevating love, and celebrating abundance aren’t just things we do because they’re nice—we practice these values because they’re central to realizing the world we deserve. Engaging with The LP community has nourished my spirit, and pushed me to interrogate and expand how I understand the process of social change. I’m so grateful to now be a part of the fam, and to get to help advance its beautiful, critical mission.
LP: What is your neighborhood? What’s your favorite thing about it? PL: I live in Bed-Stuy, which is also where the new LP home is—it’s amazing to be just a 15 minute walk away. What I love most about Bed-Stuy is the sense of community here and how folks watch out for one another. When the weather’s nice, I love just hanging out on our stoop, catching up with friends, and waving to and chatting with neighbours walking by. That’s a perfect day for me, and there’s nothing like it.
LP: Can you tell us about a project/event/moment that was a particular highlight of your personal or professional work? PL: Honestly, it was being able to take a sabbatical last year, after 10 years of running an organization, to focus on caring for my community, my family, and myself. I’m a naturally excitable, high-energy person and really passionate about my work, so I tend to throw myself in 150%. And as we know, 2020 was a year where Everything Was Happening. I felt like I was being pulled in a million directions—head and heart, work and community—so I decided to take a step back from my professional work to tend to heart and community work. My team was really encouraging, and I was so grateful for their support.
I was able to focus on organizing work I’d been doing nights and weekends, and on family stuff I’d let take a backseat. And I spent a lot of time just reflecting and exploring. I went to a cabin in the woods by myself, with no phone or internet access, to slow down. I took long walks in nature, read, cooked, and wrote a lot—but just for myself, no briefings or reports, no flags to fly or people to persuade. It was cathartic and joyous, and a good reminder of Audre Lorde’s words: self-care is self-preservation and thus inherently political. We have to make space for it, even (and perhaps especially) when it feels like the house is on fire. It’s how we sustain ourselves, reclaim our North Stars, and then keep going with renewed clarity.
LP: What song gets you moving and going when work gets hard? PL: I’m a huge Janelle Monae fan, and when she dropped “Turntables” last fall, I felt like it was *exactly* the anthem/hype song we needed right then. Soooo good. I’ve definitely watched/played it on repeat. Such a vibe.
LP: What’s your favorite home-cooked dish? PL: That’s tough. Well, on the end of my block is the best fishmonger in all of Brooklyn, and so we’re really spoiled for seafood. On Friday nights, we love just walking down to Joey’s and grabbing a nice piece of Arctic char. We pan-sear that—the skin crisps up like nothing else—and make a ginger scallion sauce, buttery juicy roasted radishes and greens, and rice to go with it. That’s the ultimate easy-decadent comfort food. Well that, or tonkatsu.
Panthea Lee is a strategist, organizer, and facilitator, and the Executive Director of Reboot. She is passionate about building transformative coalitions between communities, activists, movements, and institutions to tackle structural inequity—and working with artists to realize courageous change. Panthea is a pioneer in designing and guiding multi-stakeholder processes to address complex social challenges, with experience doing so across NYC and in 30+ countries. The global co-creation efforts she’s led have launched new efforts to protect human rights defenders, tackle public corruption, strengthen participatory democracy, advance equity in knowledge access, reform international agencies, and drive media innovation. Panthea began her career as a journalist, ethnographer, and cultural producer. She has been featured in Al Jazeera, The Atlantic, CNN, Fast Company, New York Times, MIT Innovation, and Stanford Social Innovation Review, and has lectured at Harvard, Columbia, and NYU. She also serves on the boards of RSA US, Development Gateway, and People Powered: The Global Hub for Participatory Democracy.
Join us in welcoming Patton Hindle to The LP fam! Patton recently joined our board of directors, so we sat down with her for a short Q&A.
The LP:As a supporter of the arts, why does art matter? PH: Art uplifts stories. Art elucidates connections. Art incites dialogue. The things that have seemed overlooked, hard to address, or challenging to connect over can all be tackled through the power of Art. And of course, there’s that feeling in your gut, the one when you see a piece/exhibition/project that moves something within you that is irreplaceable and that words fail to describe. Art is the space we turn to when we’re in want, and for that we owe artists a lifetime of support and care.
LP: What attracted you to The LP and excited you most about joining the board? PH: Many years ago (I think a decade, in fact!), when I was a director of a gallery in the Lower East Side, two young women came in and handed me a xeroxed flyer for an exhibition up in a neighborhood laundromat. I was so taken with their goal of centering art in an everyday space so that their neighborhood could have access that I began to follow this somewhat nascent organization, The Laundromat Project, who facilitated this important work. Over the years, I’ve been moved watching the LP support and offer tools to artists and organizers to implement change in their own communities. These resources have allowed for joy and equity to be created right in their own neighborhoods and have proven generative. I’m truly excited to formalize my longtime support of The LP by joining the board and championing the great work of the organization.
LP: What’s your favorite home-cooked dish? PH: I grew up in London, also a large city, but my parents always managed to find a flat with some small outdoor space so that my mother could grow her own herbs and tomatoes. We’re fortunate to have some outdoor space at our home in Clinton Hill and have followed suit, growing our own vegetables and herbs this past year. From our basil harvests, I make my mother’s pesto (often over pasta or some salmon)—a dish I always crave! Our 5 year old son is now starting to help in this process and we love sharing with him both this tradition but also the importance of nurturing and caring for plants that provide for you.
Patton Hindle is the Head of Arts at Kickstarter, where she oversees the Arts and Film team whose specialists work closely with visual and performing artists, filmmakers, arts organizations, museums, and cultural institutions around the world to help them realize creative and ambitious ideas. She is a co-author of the second edition of How to Start and Run a Commercial Art Gallery and was a 2019 Catherine Hannah Behrend Fellow at 92Y Women inPower in New York. Additionally, Hindle regularly advises for-profit and nonprofit arts organizations on strategic business development. She was raised in London and attended university in Boston.
Join us in welcoming Alison Cuzzolino to The LP fam. Alison recently joined our board of directors—read our short Q&A to get to know her.
The LP: What is your neighborhood? What’s your favorite thing about it?
Alison Cuzzolino: I live in Prospect Lefferts Gardens, Brooklyn. I love the vibrancy and diversity—and of course the Caribbean food! As another multiracial, multigenerational, and artist-filled Brooklyn neighborhood, PLG shares many elements with The LP’s home of Bed-Stuy that I value so deeply.
LP: What song gets you moving and going when work gets hard?
AC: Lizzo’s Good as Hell.I loved seeing her perform while I worked at PS1’s Warm Up a few years back.
LP: What’s your favorite home-cooked dish?
AC: Hands-down my grandma’s homemade lasagna, followed by her icebox cake for dessert. She’s still going strong at 92, but hung up her apron a while back. I’m grateful to have learned some of her recipes, especially her homemade sauce.
Alison Cuzzolino is a financial management leader who prides herself on supporting arts and culture through her work. She is currently the Director of Finance at MoMA PS1, a nonprofit arts center devoted to today’s most experimental and thought-provoking art. Prior to MoMA PS1, Alison held a similar role at Lehmann Maupin, where she worked closely with the gallery’s diverse roster of artists. Alison started her career in financial services, spent seven years working in London, and took a year-long detour through Asia before returning to New York and pivoting to the arts. She holds a bachelor’s degree in Finance and International Business from Villanova University, and completed the Art Business certificate program at New York University. Alison is also a 2021 Women inPower Fellow at 92nd Street Y’s Belfer Center for Innovation & Social Impact.
Nora joined The LP team as our Development Fellow in March 2021 and will be working to support fundraising initiativesof all kinds. Get to know her!
In what neighborhood do you live?
Connecticut right now, but formerly based in Queens
How did you first become connected to The LP, or hear about The LP?
My university’s graduate career center reached out with the posting for the Development Fellowship role, that was my introduction to The LP.
What attracted you to The LP? How does working here relate to your professional goals?
I’ve always enjoyed art and been interested in the changemaking impacts of it —art and revolution go hand in hand, it says so much about a society on the art it cherishes; so The LP’s mission to create advocates amongst artists and neighbors is one that is very attractive to me. Right now, I’m exploring every aspect of the non-profit sector, so in Development I get to learn the ins and outs of funding a project of this magnitude. Eventually, I want to work with communities and build advocates amongst them to the best of my capacities. A personal aspiration is to work with the Wannilaettho of Sri Lanka to ensure their rights as Indigenous peoples are respected in the localities they live in. Working at The LP will help me in that journey.
Do you have your own creative practice? If so, tell us more!
I write poetry and try to paint (albeit not very well). I love poetry, though! In undergrad, the school’s literary magazine published a few, the first and last time I’ve submitted. I do want to write a book of poetry, it’s something I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid; maybe one day I’ll get around to it.
Can you tell us about an artist or project that has inspired you?
I actually just pre-ordered my favorite poet’s (Safia Elhillo) newest book called Home Is Not A Country. Every time I read her work she makes me feel compelled to write my own stories in poems! One of my favorites is called “To Make Use of Water,” and it serves as a reminder to me of where I am from. Another artist I love and adore is Felix Gonzalez-Torres. While a lot of his work is pretty minimal at first glance, conceptually it is rich and brimming with the stories and traumas of being a gay person of color during the AIDS epidemic. Poignant work that makes me an emotional wreck!
What is your favorite… film? …album? …food?
Moana! I am obsessed with her! So many of my family looked like baby Moana as a child so it made me ugly-sob seeing her in theaters! Favorite album . . . oof okay definitely Channel Orange by Frank Ocean, Melodrama by Lorde, Fine Line by Harry Styles, Magdalene by FKA Twigs (stop me I will go on forever), and I will eat anything spicy just give me heat make me cry I love spicy food!!! Also bibimbap! And lamprais!
Where do you do your laundry?
Right now? My parents’ washing machine.
In your opinion, why does art matter?
Art makes things personal. Art makes empathy so much more than a passing emotion. Art sticks to you like gum to the top of your head on picture day—even long after its gone, a memory of it lingers. Art is like the only thing humans have bragging rights on; we aren’t cheetah fast, or can see a multitude of colors like shrimp do; but hey, at least we can make life fun and beautiful and emotional! Like how cool is that?
What LP value do you most relate to and why?
Writing Our Own Histories —as a teenager, I went through this existential crisis that sent me spiraling because the idea of life being cyclical with no apparent raison d’etre freaked me out, until one night it dawned on me (get it? LOL) that life is whatever I want it to be. So, I like the idea of writing my history.
Nora Thajudeen is The LP’s Development Fellow. She received her B.A. in Sociology, Public Service, and Public Policy at Hofstra University. At Hofstra, Nora organized for Amnesty International, built a community engagement and communications strategy for a community organization, and worked with focus groups for academic research. With a background and history of organizing for various causes around the world, Nora joins The LP team while finishing a Masters in International Affairs at The New School, where she focuses on affordable and inclusive housing policies throughout the world. Nora has always wanted to work to make art accessible and inclusive.
Brooklyn (January 22, 2021) –– The Laundromat Project is thrilled to announce the 2021 cohort of diverse creative practitioners selected to participate in our 16th annual Create Change artist development program, as well as the inaugural recipient of our Radical Imagination Fellowship. This year’s Create Change cohort will collaborate with New York City communities of color to develop, deepen, and enact social change through community-based projects. 2021 Create Change programming will incorporate educational, theory-based workshops on cultural organizing and community-building strategy, alongside creative engagement processes.
The LP has commissioned three projects by six Create Change Artists-in-Residence. Working collectively as DreamSeed Collective, artists Malanya Graham, Maliika Nia-Imani, and Blaise Sparda will create the DreamSeed Oracle Tarot Deck to celebrate the resilience of BIPOC queer communities. Rochelle Jamila Wilbun and Ogemdi Ude will develop the postpartum dance workshop series AfroPeach,andartist Gabriel G. Torres will facilitate Haus of Dust, a substance use harm reduction project. Each artist or collective will collaborate with a unique community in NYC and an array of local partners to develop their creative projects, which address themes of community wellness, healing, and recovery. Each residency project will receive $20,000 in funding.
Create Change Fellows will develop and practice strategies for making community-engaged art over a rigorous six month period. Fellows will work on proposals to amplify local cultural resources in NYC communities that center the voices and histories of long term residents, small business owners, youth, activists, cultural institutions, and artists. For the first time in 2021, Create Change Fellows will receive stipends for their participation in the program. Create Change faculty includes Ebony Noelle Golden (Betty’s Daughter Arts Collaborative), Urban Bush Women, and Piper Anderson (Create Forward), among others.
“We’re honored to support this cohort of artists and creative thinkers who are actively invested in the healing, wellness, and abundance of POC communities. It is through their ambitious proposals and eagerness to engage in cultural organizing that we are reminded of the power of art and creativity to effect social change,” said Kemi Ilesanmi, Executive Director of The Laundromat Project.
In addition to the 2021 Create Change cohort, The LP has invited storyteller, artist, and scholar Piper Anderson to be our inaugural Radical Imagination Fellow, a year-long post supported by The David Rockefeller Fund. The fellowship role is designed to engage our staff, board, and artist community around new ideas and perspectives each year. Ms. Anderson will deepen organizational understandings around timely issues of abolition, healing justice, public memory, and the Black radical imagination. Using diverse strategies such as reading groups, writings, public events, and public art, Anderson will lead The LP in examining our own structures and programming through these lenses.
“I’m thrilled to be exploring strategies for increased critical thinking, liberation, and healing justice with The Laundromat Project,” said Anderson. “I look forward to the opportunity to collectively engage a radical imagination to support The LP and our shared communities in all the many ways possible.”
> Meet Piper and other teaching artists and faculty here > Click here to meet the Create Change cohort
DreamSeed Collective will create The DreamSeed Oracle tarot deck, inspired by the artists’ Black and POC queer ancestors and holistic wellness practices. The artists will host virtual conversations on tarot’s relevance to generational, collective healing and lead workshops on design, self-portraiture, and sacred adornment to inform the creation of the deck.
Gabriel G. Torres and collaborators will facilitate Haus of Dust, a three-pronged project to support and educate Queer Latinx communities struggling with substance use in the Lower East Side. Working alongside social workers, neuroscientists, and queer community leaders, Haus of Dust will encompass an online interactive game for anxiety and stress relief, a garden installation with community programming, and an immersive theatrical experience.
Rochelle Jamila Wilbun and Ogemdi Ude will create AfroPeach, a series of online and eventual in-person dance workshops for Black postpartum people in Brooklyn. The project will uniquely blend movement healing practices and birth work to provide holistic care for Black people after pregnancy and birth.
The cohort was selected by the 2021 Artist & Community Council: Salome Asega, Director of Partnerships, POWRPLNT; Rakia Seaborn, Senior Manager of Engagement, Cumbe Center for African and Diaspora Dance; and Jessica Sucher, Associate Director of Community Engagement, BRIC.
ABOUT CREATE CHANGE
Established in 2006, The LP’s flagship Create Change Residency program has evolved into a leading artist development model that builds and nourishes creative community leaders. Through the residency, The LP supports three innovative socially engaged creative endeavors across NYC annually. Create Change resident artists develop community-responsive projects that make use of the unique social space of their location.
In 2011, in response to participant feedback, The LP established the Create Change Fellowship to train artists who are newer to a socially engaged creative practice. Each year, the Fellowship provides a select group of diverse creative practitioners with 120+ hours of a combination of workshops (theory) and arts-based community engagement processes (practice), aimed to help them develop, deepen, and enact a community engaged creative practice.
Over the past 15 years, The LP has supported 165+ artists. Alumni of the program include: Tomie Arai, Raul Ayala, Chloë Bass, LaTasha Diggs, Fernanda Espinosa, Rachel Falcone, Sukjong Hong, Rasu Jilani, Shani Peters, Michael Premo, Kameelah Janan Rasheed, and Betty Yu. The LP aims to foster and support creative community leaders who are empowered by, committed to, and fully conversant in community-attuned art practices.
FUNDERS
The Create Change program is made possible in part by The Bay & Paul Foundations, The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation; The Andy Warhol Foundation; Ford Foundation; Jerome Foundation; Lambent Foundation, Lily Auchincloss Foundation; Robert Sterling Clark Foundation; the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs in partnership with the City Council; the New York State Council on the Arts; and the National Endowment for the Arts. The Create Change Fellowship is supported in part by our Catalyst Circle members—become a Catalyst here.
In mid-March 2020, just as the pandemic struck NYC, The Laundromat Project signed a 10-year lease on its first ever long-term home, in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. The building, a two-level storefront at 1476 Fulton Street, will become a creative hub—a space for community and neighborhood gatherings; art and community-building workshops; and collaborative programs with Bed-Stuy neighbors, arts & culture entities, and civic initiatives. It will also house The LP’s administrative HQ—the space where our staff will eventually work full time.
To manifest this multi-purpose, welcoming, POC-centered art-and-community space, The LP brought on architect Nandini Bagchee, whose architecture practice and research interests include the aesthetics of Black and brown spaces, and the ways social justice and built environments connect.
Media and Storytelling staff Emma Colón and Julia Mata spoke with Nandini and LP Executive Director Kemi Ilesanmi about the design of the space and POC institution building.
This interview has been edited for brevity.
Emma Colón (EC): Kemi and Nandini, you’ve known each other since before the 1476 Fulton project. How did you initially meet?
Kemi Ilesanmi (KI): I have a feeling that Nandini remembers a little more clearly than me, but we met at the Walker Art Center in 2002.
Nandini Bagchee (NB): I moved to Minneapolis briefly to work on the Walker—a few of us were there for two years working on the design of the extension to the museum for the Basel-based architectural practice Herzog & de Meuron. I remember Kemi, a curator at the time, giving us architects a tour of the sculpture garden. Over time, through our mutual friend Claire Tancons (also a Walker curator) we became closer. What are the odds of finding two brilliant black women curating at an art institution in Minneapolis at that time! We did things together, I had a car and I remember driving them both around and going to various events and mingling at the Walker. So now I’ve gone from chauffeur to architect!
Julia Mata (JM): So Kemi, curious to know, what made you think that Nandini would be a good fit for the 1476 Fulton project, and what were your ambitions for this new home for The Laundromat Project when you asked Nandini?
KI: After my time at the Walker, I ended up in New York working at Creative Capital Foundation, and Nandini was down the street working with a group of activists at a famous building in NoHo [the Peace Pentagon, at 339 Lafayette Street, which housed numerous social justice and activist orgs and closed in 2016]. At some point while we were working half a block away from each other, she reached out and asked if we could meet up and chat about her work: she was trying to save the building which was basically under gentrification pressure, and many really incredible social justice organizations and collectives were about to be homeless. So that conversation connected us. Eventually I came to work at The LP. Nandini brought her students from City College to visit Kelly Street two or three years ago, and also joined us for a Field Day festival in Harlem once.
So we had this history. Over dinner in the spring, a week before we saw the space that is now 1476 Fulton, Nandini had expressed interest in the project. As the staff and board toured the space, we asked Nandini if she wanted to come give us feedback and see if it seemed like an exciting space to play with. And that was that!
JM: Nandini, what did you know about The LP already when Kemi told you about this project, and how did that inform your initial thoughts or visions?
NB: Yeah, so Kemi spoke a little bit about my interest in social justice organizations and the way spaces impact people’s organizing work. I have researched how important access to space is for grassroots organizing, and wrote a book called Counter Institution: Activist Estates of the Lower East Side about offices, storefronts, and other collective spaces where activists have organized against war, for housing, but also set up creative communities that experiment with and build culture. A space that inspired me tremendously was a Puerto Rican community center called CHARAS, run out of a repurposed schoolhouse for over 20 years in Loisaida. So I am really involved in this concept from a historical standpoint of how people use space to leverage different kinds of social justice projects, where art, culture, housing, everything comes together in these makeshift interiors that people appropriate and make their own. Right now, real estate is so prohibitive and expensive, there’s little room left for this type of creative production of space. So when Kemi mentioned that [The LP] in fact had gathered up the resources and was searching for a storefront—I was really very excited. I definitely wanted to be involved.
The interesting thing about The LP was that historically there wasn’t any permanent space dedicated to them—they’d just sort of co-opt the laundromat or other spaces. The Laundromat Project would happen wherever people are, as opposed to within a specific gallery or museum, and I really loved that idea.
Neighbors make art together outside of Fulton Street Laundry at The Laundromat Project’s Field Day 2013 in Bed Stuy. Photo: Ed Marshall.
NB: So then when they were actually looking for space that would bring people together for work, play, creativity, making, all into one space—it sounded like all the things I’d written about in the book were here in this project. While I love the spontaneity of the LP mission, having access to a particular physical space, a headquarters, will give visibility to their work and ground them in the Bed-Stuy neighborhood over time.
KI: Knowing Nandini and having conversations over the course of 20 years, we built up a sense of trust. Having a woman of color, an immigrant, as the architect and co-creator of the space was also important—being able to bring in some of the life and professional experiences that mirror the folks we work with was something that I was interested in.
JM: Nandini, in thinking about the topic of your book, and people appropriating spaces and transforming them to fill whatever purpose they need, I’m thinking about what this opportunity [with The LP] means: to be able to construct a space for community gathering that already has all those things you would want—to be able to fully conceptualize it from the ground up. In your last in-person meeting with LP staff, you talked about POC aesthetics as a driving factor for how you envisioned the space. Can you say a little bit more about that? What does that mean to you, and how did you envision that manifesting in this new building?
NB: The way we started was I actually visited the old LP office in Harlem, and we all sat around a table and discussed what the needs were. There’s a lot of things happening all at once: there’s work space, then community space for doing projects; there’s going to be events in the evenings, and also a space for the display of artwork and materials—so it’s very multipurpose. On the one hand, there’s a desire for it to be a special place to foster creative community; on the other, [the staff] didn’t want it to be over-designed, and they wanted it to fit in on the block. So everyone at The LP put together Pinterest boards with design ideas and elements they thought were important to include, and this became my reference document—things like a chalkboard to write the week’s schedule, coat hooks, art drying racks, quiet rooms, accessible storage, tiles, color, pattern, natural materials, and so on.
NB: I think what we’ve tried to design is something that’s somewhere in between having its own identity, saying, “Yes, this is The Laundromat Project space,” while also facilitating the concept of participation in the art-making process. The kind of projects that The LP supports, they’re not in a bracket of any sort. So I think of the design of the space as also being fluid. It’s comfortable, it’s colorful, but there is room to expand into. It’s not precious, and it’s not prescriptive or making people feel like they can’t come in. It has to be kind of fearless, and at the same time open ended.
We have a color scheme that Kemi and I were discussing this morning, which comes from The LP’s graphic design color palette. There’s going to be a lot of natural wood and brick, and just to offset that warmth, we’re picking a bright but cool color palette to accentuate the built storage and seating. Purple is a color everyone loved. Added to the trademark watery LP blue—an unusual combination—it creates a striking effect. Black and white tile patterns refer to the simplicity of the geometric Malian mudcloth fabric. Creating an atmosphere with paint, bringing more light into the space—making more with less.
NB: So those are the kinds of ways in which we’re designing it from a colors and material standpoint, but there has also been a lot of conversation around access. We’ve been addressing accessibility, both from how a wheelchair would enter, for example—that’s one kind of access—to what makes people feel like they can be around, and not feel like someone’s watching them, like when you walk into a museum. We’ve tried to create hangout nooks and crannies, and there’s a magazine section, so that people can feel free to just be there and not necessarily do anything, right? As well as come in and participate in the events and organized programming.
KI: Back to your “not-precious” comment, Nandini—if I can just add to what you were saying about wanting to both be fearless and not precious, both welcoming and special. People can read design. We’re really trained at this point to go, “Oh, that’s not for me. I don’t know what that is, but I’m not the person that they want there.” So part of the conversation from the beginning has been to not have that feeling towards our neighbors in Bed-Stuy, especially those who are Black, POC, low income, or disabled.
How can we communicate that “you are welcome here” as opposed to “you are not welcome here?” Design is a language, and as humans in cities—in gentrifying cities—we are 100% capable of reading when a space is not for us.
The LP Board Chair George Suttles stands outside the front door of 1476 Fulton Street, holding a white hard hat. Photo: Ayesha Williams.
EC: Is there anything else you could share about how you think an art space can be welcoming? Because there is a lot of discussion about how the architecture of art spaces is unwelcoming, specifically to POC communities. What other choices in the design and architecture are you making to communicate a POC aesthetic, or a welcoming aesthetic?
KI: Our timeline for moving into the space has been significantly slowed down due to the pandemic. As a result of that, Nandini has had the time to visit the space many times, to meet contractors and various things, and has been able to actually spend time on the block and in the environs—to go to the Bengali shop down the street, the Senegalese shop, the hair shop.
Nandini is Indian, I’m Nigerian and Black American, and many of us on staff and people in Bed-Stuy are coming from Black and/or POC immigrant communities. For me, regarding POC aesthetics, the number one thing I think of is our relationship to color, and our fearlessness around it. Many Black and brown cultures like a pattern, and we like color.
Being able to work that in is going to communicate, “This is a space for you.”
NB: There is color, there are the patterns, but it’s also about how things are put in place. I spoke earlier of the flexibility. This is an active community space where creativity is encouraged and things are made—it’s not just where you go to see things. There are workshop areas that can be transformed into lecture spaces as well as lunch rooms.
We’ve introduced elements that allow the occupants to change the space according to their programming needs. For example, the cushions that you can move around and sit on the floor for art making and events; the chairs that fold and hang on the brick walls; and the mobile benches with magazines and brochures on the back. The benches are on wheels and can go in and out of the storefront, or be on the sidewalk during events and information sessions.
These are multi-functional objects that can wander all the way from Restoration Plaza to the subway stop, and be anywhere in between—wherever you decide.
NB: We’ve also been tuning in to the way in which things are already happening on the street—subtle things, like how the regular stores on Fulton always have their name very big on the awning, with the street address of the place, and the phone number. And so in our design of the signage we’ll be focusing on things like that, to say that this is a New York storefront, while simultaneously announcing that this is not a commercial venture. Rather than design a retail storefront, we’ll leave the front window open for different kinds of art projects sponsored by The LP.
KI: And going back to the moving bench Nandini mentioned: the multi-use of that—being a piece of furniture, a bench, and also distributing magazines and art, I think that combination of something beautiful with something purposeful really connects to POC aesthetics—I think our extreme resourcefulness is a POC superpower.
Neighboring businesses on Fulton Street. Photo: Kemi Ilesanmi.
JM: One last question. Knowing that we will be here long term, and that the community is going to shape how the space is used over time, I’m curious to know from both of you, what are your visions of the space 1 year from now, 5 years from now, 10 years from now?
KI: One year from now, I want it to be full of people. Right now that literally feels like a reach. Six months ago I might have answered that differently, but right now that’s what feels exciting to me—to actually have 20 or 30 people in this space at a time, and to have it feel safe and beautiful and wonderful and welcoming and all the things. That’s all I want. I’m pretty sure that we can do that, I feel like the universe is shining down on us.
In five years, I want it to be a space that feels lived-in, where there’ll be some scuffs and signs of life, and where people are doing and making, and feeling comfortable, and feeling a sense of ownership. Doing things that we couldn’t have predicted, because people will feel it’s their space.
NB: This summer as we waited for work to resume and permits to be issued, I’ve been going by 1476 Fulton to see what’s going on. A couple of times I’ve seen passersby stop at the storefront where the Black Lives Matter statement is up, looking at it and pausing and saying, “Oh, what’s happening here? I wonder what’s coming.” They seem interested, excited, people, especially POC right now, want change that will be for them and about them. And so part of what one hopes will happen after 5 years, 10 years, is that The LP at 1476 Fulton will become a part of someone’s life.
“Ours is not the struggle of one day, one week, or one year. Ours is not the struggle of one judicial appointment or presidential term. Ours is the struggle of a lifetime, or maybe even many lifetimes, and each one of us in every generation must do our part.” John Lewis, Across That Bridge: A Vision for Change and the Future of America, 2017
As the November 2020 presidential election draws closer, we at The Laundromat Project want to share our hopes for the future—one in which a country built on stolen land and stolen labor powerfully transforms to one centered in repair, wellbeing, safety, and joy of all its members, especially including its Black and brown people. While the electoral process has not been a panacea for injustice, we live in an urgent moment that highlights many valid forms of civic action, and one of our most cherished tools remains the right to vote.
Grounded in our deep belief that we create change by addressing community challenges and creating opportunities for new visions, we are sharing how-to resources to make sure our community is able to effectively vote by November 3. In addition, we want to help empower you for the long fight for multifaceted justice by highlighting year-round community based organizing that helps all people have their electoral voices heard today and tomorrow. Take a look below for questions you or people in your community may have regarding how to navigate the (unnecessarily!) complex voting process in New York City, and across the country when possible.
Am I Registered to Vote? | NY State Deadline October 9
*Important Info – Because of the current status of the USPS, the Post Office recommends you send your request for an absentee ballot no later than October 20th.
How Do I Send in the Absentee Ballot?
You have multiple options for submitting your absentee ballot. You can:
Put it in the mail, ensuring it receives a postmark no later than November 3.
Bring it to an early voting poll site between October 24 and November 1. (Find the NYC early voting poll site closest to you here.)
Bring it to a poll site on November 3 by 9pm. (Find your NYC poll site here.)
How About Early Voting?
In New York State, voters can opt to vote before General Election Day, between October 24 and November 1, 2020. Look up your county to find the times and places where you can vote early in New York State. (Reminder: if you request an absentee ballot, you can also opt to drop it off at your early voting site, rather than voting in person.)
New York State: Direct government information from the Board of Elections on voting deadlines in New York State and steps for registering for an absentee ballot: elections.ny.gov/votingabsentee.html
The Laundromat Project is propelled by love in everything we do. We value love as a radical and essential act of power and protest to create the kind of world we all deserve to live in. It is for this reason that we encourage everyone in our community to VOTE by November 3 and move us one step closer to a new future of love, justice, and peace.
P.S. And don’t forget to also complete the Census—the deadline is Saturday, October 31!
Carol joined our team as a Development Intern this September 2020 and will be working to support Development this semester. Get to know Carol!
In what neighborhood do you live?
Fredonia, NY
How did you first become connected to The LP, or hear about The LP?
I learned about The LP during my time as a DIAL intern this past summer with Americans for the Arts. One of the program supervisors, Ami, shared the development intern notice with our cohort. At the time, all I knew was that they were “an amazing POC led organization.” I was immediately intrigued and began following the organization on Instagram to find out more about them.
What attracted you to The LP? How does working here relate to your professional goals?
I was initially attracted to The LP because it is a POC centered arts organization. I am so grateful for how the arts has affected my life and for the opportunities it has provided me. I know I want to continue to build spaces for others to express themselves and learn about the arts. I plan on going to graduate school to study arts administration in hopes of one day working for an arts organization full time but I think there is no better teacher than actual experience so I can’t wait to learn all I can during my time with The LP.
Do you have your own creative practice? If so, tell us more!
I love crafting and making things with my hands. Whether that’s painting a canvas, making a tie blanket, or trying to make DIY soap. I like to keep busy and find new ways of expressing myself! My motto is, “You never know what you can do until you do!”
Can you tell us about an artist or project that has inspired you?
One piece of art that inspires me is Alfredo Jaar’s Ellis Island, 2024. This piece depicts Ellis Island, but instead of it being a historical site, the artist envisions it as it might appear in 2024, completely transformed into a park with no traces of what exists there today. Just like the island changes from what it once was, the values represented by Ellis Island are vanishing before our eyes.
What is your favorite… film? …album? …food?
My favorite film is either Spiderman: Homecoming or Tangled. Currently, my favorite album is These Two Windows by Alec Benjamin. My favorite food is tacos (Al pastor tacos are my favorite but any taco is amazing) or my mom’s homemade ceviche.
Where do you do your laundry?
I do my laundry in my dorm laundry room!
In your opinion, why does art matter?
I think that the arts matter because it helps us to see the world through a different lens. We’re able to leave our reality and immerse ourselves in another place, time, or culture. Art helps us to connect with others, it’s a universal language of understanding when words aren’t enough. The arts outlive us as artists. They are an imprint we leave for future generations of how the world was or how the world could be.
What LP value do you most relate to and why?
Be Propelled By Love. This value is most relatable to me because it is how I strive to live my life each and every day. The world we live in today is constantly filled with hatred and negativity. Sometimes that can overwhelm you and it can be easy to think that there is no good left. I like to think that by showing kindness and compassion whenever I can, it can ignite a light in even the darkest of times.
Carol Loja (she/her) is a senior at The State University of New York at Fredonia majoring in Business Administration-Management with a minor in Arts Administration. A proud Ecuadorian-American she discovered her passion for the arts in high school through stage management. She currently serves as the President for her school’s chapter of the American Society for Quality, Secretary for her school’s branch of the American Cancer Society, and is an Executive Board member for her sorority, Sigma Gamma Phi. Carol hopes to help expand the representation of traditionally marginalized groups in the arts, particularly in musical theater. Though she currently resides in Western New York she grew up in Jamaica, Queens surrounded by a diverse community that helped to shape her view on the world. She can’t wait to learn more about the arts and explore the social change the arts can create!
As crises grip our country, Black artists and communities have demonstrated what it looks like to show up and support each other. The Laundromat Project Executive Director Kemi Ilesanmi on legacies of Black abundance, self-sufficiency, and community aid.
I have two sheroes who exemplify Black abundance. They each quietly contributed what they had to help shape a world towards Black dignity and excellence. In 1995, after decades of saving money earned from washing other people’s clothes, Osceola McCarty donated $150,000 to the University of Southern Mississippi to support scholarships for Black students. Her action inspired others in her hometown of Hattiesburg, Mississippi to do the same, almost tripling her original donation. Her scholarship still supports Black students today. During the Civil Rights Movement, Georgia Gilmore helped power the pivotal Montgomery Bus Boycott of 1955–56 by cooking and selling a mean meal of pork chops, stewed greens, peach pie, and other soul food specialities. She organized other women to participate, and they called themselves The Club from Nowhere. The money they raised by selling their dishes at local churches, cab stands, and beauty salons helped finance alternative transportation systems—cars, wagons, gas, insurance, repairs—during the 381-day boycott. Even with modest means, these visionaries understood their own power to make a difference in Black life and to inspire others to join them. It is only fitting to remember them both during Black Philanthropy Month.
In this time of twin pandemics that are ravaging Black and brown communities, including artists and cultural workers, I am buoyed by current examples of Black generosity and self-determination. So many folks have risen to this moment by setting up mutual aid and care networks that build on Black legacies of collective support, including susus, social aid clubs, and Black Panther principles. Like so many, artists looked around to their family, friends, neighbors, community organizations and immediately understood the stakes. Many decided to act.
When COVID-19 hit, Olaronke (Ola) Akinmowo took a dream that had been percolating for some time and decided to launch a mini-grant program in April. Ola, who works mainly as a set decorator for film and TV, initially took some of her own earnings from a consulting job to seed five grants of $250 each to single Black mother creatives anywhere in the country. As founder of The Free Black Women’s Library (TFBWL) with a large social media following, Ola also posted her intention to her network. They showed up and showed out, making generous donations that have enabled Ola to make grants totaling over $32,000 to 132 Black single mothers who are also painters, writers, dancers, filmmakers, doulas, chefs, tattoo artists, farmers, yoga instructors, and more. They have used the funds to pay utility bills, buy medicine, reboot websites, feed their children, and more. They also used this support to make art.
For Ola, the Sister Outsider Relief Grant is a way to say, “I believe in you; I see you, mama” to all the Black women making magic everyday in a world that does not often appreciate them in their fullness. It is also an affirmation of her own power to manifest dreams, live her values, and activate community. In her world vision, Black mothers matter and they can win. It is with that wind in her sail that she is launching the third application round on August 30: stay updated by checking out TFBWL’s social media. She aims to grant a total of $50,000, including the prior two rounds. If you want to support, send donations via Venmo to @olaronke, or via CashApp to $TFBWL.
As if on a similar wavelength, two other artists have taken this moment to share their art and galvanize their communities in support of Black and progressive causes. Within days of George Floyd’s murder, Paul Mpagi Sepuya made a list of organizations that support Black lives, LGBTQIA+ folks, voter fairness, criminal justice reform, community arts, and more. He then asked his network of gallerists, curators, collectors, and social media followers to back up their #BLM social media posts with concrete contributions to Black communities. He created an open print edition of one of his beautiful photographs and sent it as a thank you acknowledgement to anyone who “invested” at least $250 in any of the organizations he had identified. All a person had to do was send him a receipt. In just two months, Paul raised $217,000 in total, including $8,000 for The LP. In like fashion, as Black Lives Matter protests and demands unfolded around us, Damien Davis identified 13 Black arts and LGBTQIA+ organizations that he wanted to support right now. With Benefit Suite, he paired each organization with a unique sculpture of an Afro pick / power button named after a Black person killed by police or vigilante violence. The LP was thus honored to lift up the memory and life of Sandra Bland. For each piece, a collector had to make a donation of at least $1,800 to the organization. Damien sold all 13 works and raised over $30,000 in less than two weeks. Each of these stories are examples of artists and cultural workers leaning into Black abundance as birthright.
Like Ms. McCarty and Ms. Gilmore before them, Ola, Paul, and Damien recognize that mobilizing resources is a liberation technology that can be used to affirm and support Black lives and entities. They also understand the pain and the possibilities of this moment and so brought what they had—art, ingenuity, passion, networks—to the ongoing fight for Black culture and justice. Like so many others today who are marching, demanding, and dreaming Black futures, they are creating the modern scaffolding for long-term sustainability of Black networks and organizations. In kinship, I’m also deeply inspired by all Black cultural workers who are owning their power as resource organizers, from Black Artist Fund and Jar of Love Fund to See In Black, and many more. Their collective generosity and actions are the embodiment of words by poet Gwendolyn Brooks: “We are each other’s harvest; we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” Àṣẹ.
Header image: Georgia Gilmore, via S.S. Seay Sr. Educational Foundation.
We recently got in touch with Sonia Louise Davis, 2011 Create Change Professional Development Fellow, to find out what she’s been up to lately. Read on to find out more!
Photos courtesy of Carolin Knebel & Ivan Forde. Please scroll down for detailed credits.
What projects have you been working on lately?
I work mostly in large format photography and I’m trying to use the physical process to create situations that facilitate collaboration: shooting on sheet film with a view camera, and sharing that experience with neighbors. I’m also delving deeper into research and archives, and dreaming up new projects / returning to unfinished ones.
Why did you apply for the Create Change Fellowship, and what did you gain from it? How did the program impact your work as an artist?
As an artist, I’m basically self-taught. I started shooting on a 4×5 camera in a summer program after college and learned to load film holders from YouTube. I found out about the Professional Development Fellowship at a crucial time—I’d been making images outside in my neighborhood and wanted to engage neighbors in a meaningful way as collaborators, not simply as passers-by or witnesses to my practice. The program informed how I imagined my work, and gave me confidence to take risks and challenge myself. I also made lasting connections with my fellow participants and LP staff!
What else have you been up to since the Fellowship? Can you tell us a little bit about the work you did in residence at Casita Maria, in Hunts Point?
I’ve had amazing opportunities at other exciting arts organizations, including En Foco, gaia, Residency Unlimited, and the Bronx Museum of the Arts. In the fall of 2012 I hosted an interactive family portrait studio at Casita Maria and invited community members to make images with me on my 4×5 camera. Using an extra-long cable release, each participant became the photographer of their own family’s portrait. There was this dance that happened as family members took turns looking through the ground glass, framing the picture as I sat in for them, amongst relatives. In the beginning, my interest in archives, authorship, empowerment and the family album was central, but I learned I was also providing a free service, exposure to the analog photographic process and giving fellow artists space to unleash their creativity. I made prints for each family to take home.
We’ve heard about the project you are planning, “Across 116th Street.” Can you tell us more about it? What are you looking forward to about this project?
Across 116th Street is a collective community ar(t)chive project. This summer, I will be “in residence” outdoors along 116th Street, from the Hudson River to the East River, hosting workshops and facilitating large format family portraits, centered around actively (and collaboratively) archiving and documenting “home.” I received a Manhattan Community Arts Fund Grant from LMCC, and I’m thrilled that The LP will feature some of the workshops through Works In Progress at the Laundry Room! Mostly, I’m looking forward to listening to my neighbors and making art together close to home.
What’s your neighborhood? Why there?
Harlem: East, West, Central, all of it. Born and raised and haven’t left.
What’s your favorite thing about living in your neighborhood?
Summer nights, daily good-morning’s and long slow weekend walks with a 35mm.
Who are your neighbors? How have they influenced your work?
Hard-working people, kids who play ball in the park, folks who’ve seen it all, those young guys who ride around on dirt bikes…newcomers, latecomers, students, families, ghosts. We’re constantly in the presence of other people and I’m trying to slow down enough to find beauty in this density of experience.
What are you reading now?
Delirious New York by Rem Koolhaas, “The Death and Life of Great American Cities” by Jane Jacobs, “Harlem Is Nowhere” by Sharifa Rhodes-Pitts (for the third time), and I recently finished a book of plays by Athol Fugard, John Kani and Winston Ntshona that my downstairs neighbor lent me (I loved “Sizwe Banzi is Dead”). Next up is Envisioning Emancipation, by Deborah Willis and Barbara Krauthamer.
What song gets you going when work is hard?
Lately I’ve just been bumping all the homies: Tamara Davidson and Javi Santiago, Le1f and DonChristian Jones, Throw Vision, and Lion Babe.
What’s your favorite word, sound, color?
Seafoam.
Your dream last meal?
Combination Platter (chicken and lamb over rice) from the Halal Guys on 53rd and Sixth.
Tell us about an artist who has influenced your work.
Brett Cook, for how he has been able to reimagine the gallery, the block, the classroom as sites for critical engagement, collaboration and collective artistic authorship. I am inspired by the wide range of projects he has initiated, the immediate focus on local communities’ needs and voices, and especially how he speaks about making artwork with others because everyone is an expert in something.
What does “socially-engaged art” mean to you?
Art that connects people, that happens where we live and work, involves regular folks as participants / actors / subjects / authors, as central pieces in the artistic puzzle.
Do you have any advice to offer other artists interested in socially-engaged work?
I think the “why” is more important than the “how.” Know yourself. Surround your work and practice with others who fuel you, who have different specialties, and lend support whenever you can, especially to other artists. These are things I am constantly telling myself. It’s all part of the process.
What will you be working on next?
I’m currently participating in the Artist in the Marketplace (AIM) program at the Bronx Museum of the Arts, and I’m excited to show two new works from the Hunts Point project at “Bronx Calling: The Second AIM Biennial” in June. Also, I’ll be presenting my work at an event on May 21st at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, called “The Finding Aid: Black Women at the Intersection of Art and Archiving.” And finally, keep an eye out for the Sistah Friends Project, we’ve got some exciting summer plans in the works. Stay tuned and see you uptown!
Sonia Louise Davis is an artist who works with a large format view camera, alone and in collaborative community based projects. She graduated with honors in African American Studies from Wesleyan University in 2010.
Photo credits: Photos 2 & 4 by Carolin Knebel | Photos 1, 3, & 5 by Ivan Forde
Meet Petrushka Bazin Larsen, Program Director. We discussed her background as an image-maker, how she got connected with The Laundromat Project, and her favorite cupcake flavor.
How did you get connected with The LP?
I was thinking about starting my own non-profit organization when I didn’t see anything on the job market that really interested me. I contacted Risë, who I’ve known since 2002, to hear about how she started The LP. Fast forward ten months, and I started working with her to develop our Create Change Residency program.
Has your work as Program Manager with The LP changed the way you think about art?
I am way more drawn to work that does something more than just look pretty. Art is most successful when it is both visually compelling and charged with social impact.
Can you tell me a little bit about your own history as a photographer / visual artist?
It all started with a Polaroid camera in 8th grade. I ended up going to Tisch School of the Arts’ Photography department where I studied under Dr. Deborah Willis. I really was drawn to shooting a lot of documentary-based work. My thesis show focused on the roles women play in Jamaican Dancehalls in New York. I’ve been thinking about dusting off the old camera to document the dirt bike scene in Harlem, but I haven’t figured out how to manage shooting with my baby daughter strapped to the front of me.
Tell us about an artist, curator, or activist that has inspired you.
I can’t wait for the day that The LP is able to own, operate, and program laundromats in other cities. Of course, owning and operating laundromats in New York comes first. We’ve got the programming down though.
What is your favorite…
…cupcake flavor?
That’s hard, man. Hmmm…can I say all flavors? Cupcakes, chocolate chip cookies, and Reese’s cups are some of my favorite treats. This message should self-destruct when my daughter comes of reading age.
…NYC-themed film?
Also hard…oddly, the first thing that comes to mind is Inside Man by Spike Lee, which brings to mind other Spike Lee classics. I like them all… for the most part.
…TV show?
I’ve become a bit of an HBO and Showtime junkie. I watched all of The Wire recently. I didn’t understand what all of the hype was about until I got to episode 2. My mother made small appearances in two episodes of the series, which was also cool to see when I finally started watching. I also enjoy Game of Thrones and House of Lies. No judgment.
I don’t have one at the moment, but I currently enjoy following Thomas Lax, Hank Willis Thomas, Mary Pryor and other folks on Spotify!
…web-based series or radio show?
Leonard Lopate (from NPR) is the man. Before our staff team grew, I used to tune in to him everyday with headphones from my computer.
…thing about working in Hunts Point? [ed. note – at the time of this interview, The LP’s office was located in Hunts Point, Bronx.]
It’s been really great working in the HP. The office used to be located on the east precipice of Manhattan. Though we were in an artist studio community, we were quite removed from everything else. It’s great to have so many culturally-rich organizations a stone’s throw from our office door. We especially heart Rocking the Boat, The Point, BAAD! and Casita Maria.
I’ve heard you are curating a show that’s coming up soon. Please tell us about it!
It’s a show at NURTUREart called Cashing Out. Here’s the blurb that’s included in the press release:
NURTUREart is pleased to present Cashing Out, curated by Petrushka Bazin Larsen—the first exhibition to use NURTUREart’s new Online Registry as a curatorial platform. Cashing Out features artists’ musings on our current financial system and their creative proposals for establishing alternative economies. The exhibition is informed by economic inequities, excessive production of goods, unfair wages, discord between nations and an overall desire to become a more sustainable society where we rely on each other and our natural abilities to make ends meet. Looking to the artist as an author of innovation and creative problem solving, Cashing Out also considers how our current economy can be destabilized using community networks, cooperative economics, bartering, and other exchanges.
By bringing together video, sculpture, participatory prompts and ephemera by Shinsuke Aso, Nicky Enright, Heather Hart, Mary Jeys, Michelle Kaufman, Carolyn Lambert, and Scott Massey, the gallery becomes a space for conversation about these circumstances and hopefully a catalytic platform for new solutions.
Cashing Out, curated by Petrushka Bazin Larsen, was on view April 19–May 16th, 2013 at NURTUREart, 56 Bogart Street, Brooklyn, NY 11206.
We recently caught up with Bayeté Ross Smith, 2010 Create Change Public Artist in Residence, to find out what he’s been up to lately. Read on to find out more!
What have you been working on lately?
Have been working on a collaborative transmedia project called Question Bridge: Black Males, a photography and mixed media project about gun owners called Gatling (America), and I have a video project underway which is about Hip Hop fantasies that I am working on with my cousin Will Sylvester. I am also still photographing high school proms and I have created several other versions of Got The Power: Boomboxes and Community Soundtracks in different locations across the country.
Question Bridge is a collaboration with Hank Willis Thomas, Chris Johnson and Kamal Sinclair. It represents and redefines Black male identity in America, through a video mediated exchange of questions and answers. Ultimately it works to redefine our perceptions of people from all demographics by using Black males as a lens through which to examine very human issues most of us face on a daily basis. Transmedia describes creative projects that utilize multiple platforms to engage their content with viewers. Question Bridge is an art installation, a film for movie theaters, an interactive website (which is still underway), a series of community engagement events and a curriculum for use in elementary, middle schools and high schools. We premiered last year at the 2012 Sundance Film Festival and had dual exhibitions in Brooklyn and Oakland to start the year. The exhibition and film version are currently traveling to museums and film festivals around the world.
Gatling (America) was inspired by my experience as an American boy, and understanding our love/hate relationship with violence. Violence is part of humanity. It has always existed. What we try to do as “civilized” humans is contain it in acceptable, productive ways. However, much of that is subjective. Weapons have also always existed and thus we have always had to navigate who gets access to which weapons. Lack of access has led to many atrocities, just like access has lead to many atrocities. Guns have also allowed us as humans to really take control over the earth, for better or for worse. As an American boy I grew up playing with water guns, G.I. Joes, Transformers etc. I watched violent cartoons with Bugs Bunny and Tom & Jerry. I loved sports like boxing and football. I watched Kung Fu flicks. I also grew up in the crack cocaine era and was very aware of urban violence that affects Black and Latino youth. So for me, I was curious in examining our relationship with violence through our relationship with guns. I noticed that images of gun owners in popular culture are usually two extremes. A glorified action hero or a deplorable criminal on the news. There wasn’t much in between. I am curious about examining who gun owners truly are, what they look like and their thoughts on gun ownership. My goal is create a more thoughtful and realistic perception of guns, gun owners and the way we live with violence.
What else have you been doing since your residency with The LP?
I’ve been teaching at NYU, the International Center of Photography, Parsons and Kean University. I have created three additional versions of my boom box project, Got The Power, in Minnesota, Alabama and Baltimore.
What made you apply for The LP Residency, and how did the residency impact your work as an artist?
I applied for the LP residency because a major part of my work involves social engagement. I believe art needs to interact with people within daily life. It’s cool to do museums and galleries, but if little kids, senior citizens, and everyone in between from various education levels can’t engage with your work, then you’re not doing anything that special. Only certain types of people go to museums and galleries so as artists we have to take initiative to make our work socially engaging. The Laundromat Project was right up my alley in terms of creating art that engages and is activated by the general public, in a space that everyone has access to: the local laundromat.
Can you tell me a little bit about Question Bridge? How did you get involved with this project?
I got involved with Question Bridge when my fellow collaborator Hank Willis Thomas invited me to collaborate on the project. When he told me the basic concept behind the work I knew it was something that, if we did it well, could have a profound impact on people. I had a lot of ideas for the project immediately that I wanted to share with him and our other collaborator Chris Johnson.
And how has it been received so far?
So far Question Bridge has been very well received. Our biggest obstacle is getting people to rethink their bias when they hear “Black males” in the title. Some folks don’t understand how a project examining Black males relates to them. However Black males play such a prominent role in American culture and consciousness that the reality is, everyone has some interest in understanding Black males and Black culture. Question Bridge allows people to witness a conversation between a diverse group of Black men in a way that is comfortable and accessible. If you like popular music, sports, comedy and entertainment, then you have an interest in Black people and Black males. So our challenge is to get people who don’t realize this to understand they can benefit from the experience of seeing Question Bridge.
What have you learned from working on Question Bridge?
That the identity of any group of people is not monolithic, but always more diverse and nuanced than any of us can imagine. I’ve been a Black male all my life, went to a Black college, traveled to areas around the world where I could immerse myself in pan African culture and consequently thought I knew most of what there was to know about being a Black male. However my perceptions of Black male identity were consistently redefined throughout the course of working on Question Bridge.
What’s your neighborhood?
Harlem.
Why there?
I’m actually a New Yorker and I grew up in Manhattan. I have personal history in Harlem. I took music lessons at Harlem School of the Arts, learned to swim at the 135th street YMCA, had my first job working for Graham-Windham in that same area and spent a lot of time at the Schomburg as a kid. It’s a neighborhood that has a lot of great history and inspires me. I’ve lived in the Bronx, Queens and Brooklyn and I like living Uptown the best.
What’s your favorite thing about it?
The people.
What is one thing you would change about your neighborhood?
I would change the way it is being gentrified. I mean, gentrification isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it tends to run amuck these days. Technically I’m a gentrifier. I’m formally educated and have a certain stable economic level. But the way in which no space is really reserved for low income people, many of whom have lived in my neighborhood for years and fought to make it a better place, and once its safe enough to be gentrified they get pushed out… that is not acceptable. I grew up on the Upper West Side and now I could never afford to live in the building I grew up in so I feel this issue in my heart.
Who are your neighbors? How have they influenced your work?
Some of them are regular people. Some are artists. There are a few young professionals. There are some elders and some hood cats. They provide me with a balanced perspective on the various types of people who can live together productively. There are some kids but I don’t know them that well. It’s hard to know kids if you don’t know their parents these days. People think you’re shady if you just talk to them. But it’s pretty balanced group of folks. Multiple backgrounds and income levels. Everyone is very friendly and very genuine.
Where do you do your laundry?
My laundromat is down the street from me. It’s a pretty good laundromat. Decent prices, friendly service, fairly nice interior. It’s right next to my dry cleaners and grocery store. Everything is really close by.
What are you reading now?
Just read all of Junot Diaz’s books. Had been meaning to do that for a long time.
What song gets you going when work is hard?
I actually have a playlist of songs that do that. Something with a hard break beat makes me feel unstoppable.
What’s your favorite NYC-themed movie, song, poem, book?
“Do The Right Thing,” “C.R.E.A.M.” by Wu-Tang Clan, “Invisible Man.”
What’s your favorite word, sound, color?
Can’t discuss that in this forum. Ha! Seriously though, my answers to those questions are not appropriate for this forum. Folks will have to ask me in person.
Tell us about an artist who has influenced your work.
Gordon Parks. He did a wide variety of different types of work, from photographs to movies, and made work that touched on our shared human experience in some way that helped people rethink how their ideas about one another.
What does “socially-engaged art” mean to you?
It is work that interacts with a wide range of people within the course of daily life, and deals with common issues and themes in society that affect our shared human experience on some level.
What advice would you offer other artists interested in socially-engaged work?
Spend time in a wide variety of communities and understand that art making isn’t always about you. It is also about interacting with other people. Get involved in communities that force you out your comfort zone. And don’t think your work is too damn special. As Kerry James Marshal once said, every time you show your work you have to earn your audience’s attention.
What will you be working on next?
A video series on Hip Hop fantasies.
Any current or upcoming show/performance you want to recommend?
Wangechi Mutu, “A Fantastic Journey,” Nasher Museum at Duke
“White Boys,” curated by Hank Willis Thomas and Natasha Logan, Haverford College, Haverford, PA
Travis Somerville, “A Great Cloud of Witnesses,” Catherine Clark Gallery, SF, CA
Michele Pred, “Amendment,” Nancy Hoffman Gallery, NY, NY
Bayeté Ross Smith is an artist, photographer, and educator living in New York City. His collaborative projects “Along The Way” and “Question Bridge: Black Males” have shown at the 2008 and 2012 Sundance Film Festival, respectively. He has also been involved in a variety of community and public art projects with organizations such as the Jerome Foundation, Alternate Roots, The Laundromat Project, the city of San Francisco, the city of Atlanta and the San Francisco Municipal Transit Agency.
We recently caught up with Aliya Bonar, Professional Development Fellow 2011, to find out more about what she has been up to lately. Read on to find out more!
Why did you enroll in the Professional Development Fellowship, and what did you gain from it? How did the program impact your work as an artist?
I enrolled in the Create Change Fellowship program because at the time I was working full-time as an arts administrator, and I wanted to set aside time for myself to be an artist and focus on my own practice.
What else have you been doing since the fellowship?
Since my Fellowship ended (Fall of 2011), I have done art residency programs at the Wassaic Project in Wassaic, NY and am currently an artist in residence at Flux Factory in Long Island City, Queens. I have been exploring how to be an artist and sustain my practice, and what my dream job is inside of all of this!
Tell us about PowerSuit Camp. What was the inspiration behind it?
PowerSuit Camp came out of my exploration of the daily characters we play in our lives based on our individual “costumes”. Upon moving to New York City, I was intrigued by the way that individuals play these characters of Important Business People and how I could almost “sneak by” by pretending to be that person, and also dressing like one. And how when I dressed like a professional, I felt more professional myself, even if what I was actually doing was quite silly.
PowerSuit Camp is an opportunity for a group of people to go on a retreat of sorts and go to Camp: step out of the normal constraints and rules of normal life and consider what they really want to, if they could do anything.
Over one week a team of artists and Girl Scout troop #4989 met together every afternoon exploring their “Dream Jobs”. Through interview, dance, zine-making, sewing, and discussing they investigated the question, “what would you do, if you could do anything?” You can see pictures from the final Fashion Show here!
What kind of responses have you received from participants or other community members?
The people who participated in the project said that it was a great experience to set aside time and work on themselves, brainstorm as a group, and think critically about what they really wanted to do.
What’s your neighborhood? Why there?
My neighborhood is Long Island City, Queens, where my studio and my collective community is. Flux Factory is my main community and mini-neighborhood, and they support and challenge me to make great work.
What’s your favorite thing about it?
I love how authentic Long Island City and Queens are—there is a huge intersection of worlds here. No one is too cool or too busy, we’re all just working hard and making things happen.
Who are your neighbors? How have they influenced your work?
The Flux Factory neighbors were directly involved in PowerSuit Camp. On the second day we walked around and interviewed our local neighbors about their current and Dream Jobs, asking how they could be connected and what they like about their current jobs, how they got there. The interviews were a great way to really ground the somewhat abstract conversation, and make it something that the young people could understand. It was also great to get outside of our own heads and actually interact with people who maybe didn’t have their dream jobs but were working towards it.
What are you reading now?
I’m failing at reading Infinite Jest for a book club that I’ve been in since October. I’m at page 105. I know it’s good, I just have to keep going.
What song gets you going when work is hard?
Robyn’s “Call Your Girlfriend”—I’m still learning the dance moves to recreate the music video on-demand.
What’s your favorite NYC-themed movie, song, poem, book?
“Working Girl.”
What’s your favorite word, sound, color?
Red. The sound of wind flipping through your ears as you coast down a bridge on your bike.
Your dream last meal?
Vietnamese spring rolls and ice cream sundae.
What most inspires you?
Authenticity. People being honest and true, people sharing themselves and connecting with people in ways they’ve never known how to do before.
Tell us about an artist who has influenced your work.
Miranda July has influenced me in the way that she is so transparent with her process and her awkwardness and her insecurities, even if some of it feels like a character and an act. She makes a huge quantity of work and tries everything—film, writing, performance—and that inspires me to just go for it, to try things out, to make big mistakes. There’s something about her character and her work that resonates with me, and makes me cringe or cry or laugh right with her, and so whatever that is, I aspire and am inspired by it—to be my most honest self and share all my human weaknesses and fears and insecurities. That is what others will connect with, and that is what gives my work weight and power.
What advice would you offer other artists interested in socially-engaged work?
Start making it. You don’t need a degree or a certificate, you just need awareness and responsibility. Maybe you’ll mess up. but being nervous about messing up and not doing anything is useless too. Talk to people, share your ideas, welcome feedback and critiques. Make things happen, even if they just start small.
What will you be working on next?
I’m sorting that out now. I think I’m ready to do a more personal and solitary project, after doing so much out there and with other people. I think I will be developing a line of costume/garments that are highly utilitarian and also continuing on the “PowerSuit” theme—for my own dreams and passions and tailored to my body, and in collaboration with others based on their dreams, passions, and fit!
Any current or upcoming show/performance you want to recommend?
Flux Factory has a million events and shows, and they’re all really great opportunities to get to know an entirely different community and crowd. Check them all out here, or see you at the next major exhibition opening, “The Wonder Cabinet” March 16, 6-8pm.
Aliya Bonar is an artist, community organizer and event producer based in New York City. She has worked with Creative Time, Flux Factory, Elsewhere Collaborative, The Wassaic Project, The Laundromat Project, and the Eileen Fisher Leadership Institute to teach workshops and produce events that engage everyday people in making authentic connections.
The Laundromat Project commissions awesome New York City artists to make special edition prints and design merchandise. The sale of these items helps The LP bring fun, accessible, community-responsive arts programming to laundromats and other public spaces across the city. To purchase a print or tote bag, please click here.
Tell us about your LP commissioned print.
“Kalena” is based on a collage that I made from a photograph taken during a photo shoot where I was working specifically with trans-gender models. Something about the hyper-femininity of Kalena in particular made me want to get a little bolder with the materials. I love how the print is a very simple digital archival print but then is finished with gaudy sparkling red glitter on her lips!
What inspired you to support The Laundromat Project?
When board member Naomi Beckwith asked if I could support The Laundromat Project I was just really excited to be able to get behind such a great idea. Since then, as I’ve seen the incredible range of projects and events put on by The Laundromat Project, I have come to believe that it is really a meaningful and original way to get actual art practices out into the communities all around the city.
Tell us about your neighborhood
I moved to Fort Greene almost three years ago with the idea that it would be a great neighborhood for starting a family and now I have a five-month old daughter!
What’s your favorite thing about it?
The corner coffee shop, Smooch, on my block is the best. It’s truly a neighborhood meeting place–just don’t go there if you’re in a hurry because they’re serious about making each and every coffee special and that can take a minute.
What one thing would you change about your neighborhood?
We could use some more good restaurants- we have a couple good ones but some of them have just been around too long. There’s the Brooklyn Sandwich Society that’s making great sandwiches and interesting small plates in the evening- I’d like to see more places like that.
Mickalene Thomas (center) with executive director Kemi Ilesanmi and Create Change alumna Nontsikelelo Mutiti
Who are your neighbors?
My neighbors are actually my favorite part of my neighborhood; actors, writers, artists, community organizers, all kinds of interesting people!
Where do you do your laundry?
I’m lucky enough to have a washer and dryer in my basement.
What are you reading now?
I’ve been reading Anaïs Nin’s diaries for a while. I love her ideas about living as a creative person and I am in awe of the discipline it took for her to write so extensively about her own life.
What’s your favorite sound, texture or color?
The sound of the ocean. Pounding waves or just barely lapping on the shore, I love all the sounds the ocean makes.
What song gets you going when work is hard?
Right now I’m loving Frank Ocean’s “Pyramids.”
What’s your favorite New York movie?
I’m still a big fan of Woody Allen’s “Bullets Over Broadway.”
What most inspires your work?
The women in my life are really the greatest inspiration for my work. The women I know and love now give me my energy and the women I grew up with, their memory, drives me to work harder.
What your favorite thing about printmaking?
I love the set process of printmaking. The specific structure and method to different printmaking processes give me something to play with and react against. But I also enjoy the elaborate processes involved, the slow, methodical way that printmaking is approached, particularly stone lithography.
What are you working on now?
I am actually headed to Senegal to visit the American Embassy in Dakar to start the process for a large-scale public mural I will be creating for the exterior wall of the embassy. This will be my first public work outside the United States and I am very excited to be working with mosaic tiles for the first time and on such a large scale.
Any current or upcoming show/performance you want to recommend?
I want to go see Christian Marclay’s “The Clock” at MoMA. I’ve heard it’s fantastic and as someone who loves film, I think it’s a must-see.
The Laundromat Project commissions awesome New York City artists to make special edition prints and design merchandise. The sale of these items helps The LP bring fun, accessible, community-responsive arts programming to laundromats and other public spaces across the city. To purchase a print or tote bag, please click here.
Tell us about your LP commissioned tote bag.
My LP design was originally created to adorn the bottom half of mock pawn broker promotional sandwich boards worn for my social practice public project We Promote Knowledge & Love. The project borrows the aggressive street advertising tactics of pawnbrokers in low-income communities as a vehicle to promote knowledge, wisdom, self-empowerment and love rather than commerce, material value, or monetary wealth. It is designed to upset attributions of value and incite re-evaluations of both outright and passively held notions of worth. It just so happens that the design fits equally pleasingly on a tote bag. When the bags are carried, the concept spreads further.
What inspired you to support The Laundromat Project?
LP’s standard for excellence. And because LP takes it to the people. Art, inspiration, empowerment… all of it!
What’s your neighborhood? Why there?
Uptown Baby!! Malcolm found his way from Lansing to Harlem, what better footsteps to follow?
What’s your favorite thing about your neighborhood?
That flavor is called: “Neo-Negro-Rock-Bottom-Shrewd”TM
Definition: the distinct perspective of blackness that has seen both the highest heights of race pride and the very bottoms of drug-addicted depravity; that doesn’t loose its cool over either extreme, anymore.
What one thing would you change about your neighborhood?
Bike paths, let’s have some. And I’d like to see video art/experimental film… all over this piece!
A roughage rich salad. I’m going to need to clear out the system for this… Lobster, sCrimps, New Orleans fried oysters, cheese grits, garlic sautéed spinach,
Amy Ruth’s biscuits… Cheesecake covered in chocolate, pecan and caramel goodness.
What’s your favorite texture?
The other side of the pillow.
What song gets you going when work is hard?
I have multiple play-lists compiled for just this function, but I’ll go with…
24 Hour Karate School by Mr. Yasiin Bey.
“Learn the sweet science: Belieeeve in yourself.” 🙂
What’s your favorite word?
Word!
What most inspires your work?
Curiosity.
What your favorite thing about editioned work?
Accessibility!! 1 part means of mass production/ 2 parts hand-printed love. Get some!!
Each year, our artist development program, Create Change, supports 15 to 20 artists developing their socially engaged creative practice through our Fellowship, Residency, and Commissions program. In 2012, we began asking our Create Change artists to pair up for Creative Conversations: open-ended creative exchanges to be published on our blog. Read on to meet our Create Change alumni.
Mary: What was your process for making music during your Laundromat Project Create Change residency?
Sinema: My music usually starts off with a conversation or a real life event. I usually have to go through something to be able to create music. When going into the laundromat with intentions of creating music with my community, it had to happen the same way. I engaged customers in conversations about school, their personalities, their experiences and things like that. I then asked them to use their situations to someone else’s advantage by creating songs. These songs would inspire someone else and also give insight. Of course they’re eager to participate if they know that they can show off their talents. We played instrumentals on a radio and banged on tables to have background music and then freestyled or wrote our thoughts down in a style that rhymed. We then rehearsed these lyrics atop of music a few times and even got others involved with us. At a later date, the kids recorded their songs in a studio and took photos for cover art. The songs got pressed to disc and given away for free to people washing clothes at our home laundromat.
Mary: What was it like working where you live?
Sinema: Honestly, I swore that because I made music with communities prior to the residency that it would be very simple to engage my own community in songwriting and recording. What happened was the complete opposite. I was always so busy going to schools and recreation centers in other neighborhoods that I had never even worked in my own neighborhood. This is partly because a lot of the people I run into around my neighborhood are either really defensive or really afraid when it comes to dealing with someone they don’t know so when the thought of dealing with my neighborhood ever came around I completely snubbed it. Although I probably should have anticipated that it would take me about four laundromat visits on Saturday and Sunday afternoons to find participants for my project Giving Hope Away, this was completely unexpected. The parents of my community were not as eager as I’d assumed to allow their kids to chat, write, sing and rap with me while doing their laundry at first. This prolonged me entering into the community for almost a month although I’ve lived there for years!
What project were you working on during your Create Change professional development fellowship, Mary, and who did you hope to reach?
Mary: I have been working on a local currency initiative since 2009. I was especially interested in progressing the project in a context including other socially engaged art practitioners.
I wanted to engage my neighbors, and I defined them as everyone from my Polish landlady and her friends to the new arrivals in newly constructed condominiums and the long standing Latino neighbors on the south side of Williamsburg to the artists as well as all of the small businesses throughout the area.
Sinema: Why this project?
Mary: In a previous project, I performed as a campaign manager for a fake candidate in 2008. I became very interested in bringing performative/design/art interventions to people who hadn’t self-selected as an arts viewer (i.e. on the sidewalk instead of a gallery/arts space). At the time, I was unemployed and looking for a project that would not only be fun for me but also would invite my own neighbors to participate. I was interested in exploring the idea of wealth, and eventually settled on the idea of setting up a local currency.
Sinema: How did you hope your project would build relationships within your community?
Mary: When I began, I knew that a perfect venue to present it would be FEAST. The dinner format combined with instant grant was a clear fit, and it seemed kismet that FEAST was being held two blocks from my art studio (i.e. in my neighborhood). By voting for my local currency project, my community participated directly in the creation of the project. I stood in front of a room of hundreds of my neighbors as the first step, and in the following FEAST event, I helped them visualize what might be on our local currency. Drawings, collages, and written ideas submitted then were synthesized as communal visual culture onto the graphic design prototype.
How did you use your laundromat space?
Sinema: Because my project also took place in a costly recording studio, I really enjoyed using the laundromat for rehearsal space. We utilized the folding tables as desks to write songs and to bang on to make beats. We rehearsed our music in the middle of the Laundromat in order to perfect our skills and recruit others into working with us.
Mary: What is your favorite thing about your neighborhood?
Sinema: I love that there are many places, such as churches, parks and community centers, for the youth to hang out after school. Because there is so much violence in Philadelphian communities, it’s a relief to know that there are positive places in our neighborhood so they can stay out of trouble.
How was it working with your community?
Mary: I found a lot of volunteers who spoke up quickly for their enthusiasm for the project and willingness to participate. What I have find much more challenging has been the process of taking the next step in finding a role that fits the volunteer as well as not overwhelming their good intentions by overloading them with too much responsibility.
Did the Create Change program inspire you to change your own practice of making art?
Sinema: Not at all! It actually encouraged me to keep doing the same thing that I’ve been doing! It let me know that what I was doing was powerful and it really made a difference. The backing I got from The LP really inspired me to keep doing my projects no matter what. Although hosting a project like this costs a lot of money and the funding is not always there, I’m now inspired to really find a way. Honestly, you don’t need money to bring people together. Just getting the youth to come together and speak on their emotions is enough! There’s so much that would be prevented if they just spoke their minds! Create Change really made me see the light and realize that it’s foolish to not be engaged just because you don’t have resources. The only resource we, as artists, ever need is our warm spirits. The fact that we want to take time out of our lives to make a difference in someone else’s really matters a lot.
What does social change mean to you?
Mary: Social change to me indicates a shift in understanding relationships between people or groups of people. In the role of an artist, I understand my position as someone who can facilitate, or highlight change in social relationships.
Sinema: Do you feel like you created a social change in your community?
Mary: That is a hard question to answer. It is hard to gauge what effect I may or may not have had in the culture of change in my neighborhood. I do believe I participated in a conversation about our economy and helped inspire a sense of creative control. I believe engaging in positive, inclusive conversation has made an impact and broadened understanding of local business as not only storefronts, but also neighbors with whom we can share goods and services as well.
Sinema: Although the Create Change program is over, do you feel like your involvement with your community is over?
Mary: No, in some ways, it is just beginning. I have renewed my contact with key project advisers and am working my way to bring the project to a new place of fruition. I have started a collective workspace share and we are dedicating our programming’s focus to social engagement. This will allow this project and others like it to have a home within our community, and of our community.
Sinema: Did you learn anything about your community that you don’t think you would have known if your project hadn’t been done?
Mary: I learned how open and exciting my neighbors are. Many of them are so eagerly looking for good things to participate in. So many are happy to have a conversation about issues and to be given a platform for voicing their hope and potential for positive change, especially small business owners. I initially anticipated that they would be the hardest to convince, but what I found is that they were the most eager. Small business owners are a lot like artists–they have a vision and work towards achieving it every day, despite a lot of odds against success.
The Laundromat Project commissions awesome New York City artists to make special edition prints and design merchandise. The sale of these items helps The LP bring fun, accessible, community-responsive arts programming to laundromats and other public spaces across the city. To purchase a print or tote bag, please click here.
Tell us about your LP commissioned print.
Blacula is part of a large body of working looking at the black image in popular culture. I thought Blacula was interesting because he seems to epitomize the culture’s fear of black men.
What inspired you to support The Laundromat Project?
I am an artist that is interested in working in the community and also in reaching out to people that wouldn’t normally be interested in art, so the Laundromat Project seems like a perfect fit.
What’s your neighborhood?
I currently live in Inwood, which is an interesting world within a world. It’s got all the grit and attitude of Harlem, but also some beautiful parks and interesting people.
What’s your favorite thing about your neighborhood?
What’s your favorite New York song, poem, movie or novel?
Just Above My Head by James Baldwin. I was living in Sugar Hill at the time I was reading the book and could just see the whole thing playing out in my neighborhood.
Well, The Invisible Man might be my favorite book ever and part of it takes place in NYC so….
What most inspires your work?
A sense of curiosity about the things that happen in our world.
Rudy was a Public Artist-in-Residence in 2006. Read more about his project here.
Each year, our artist development program, Create Change, supports 15 to 20 artists developing their socially engaged creative practice through our Fellowship, Residency, and Commissions program. In 2012, we began asking our Create Change artists to pair up for Creative Conversations: open-ended creative exchanges to be published on our blog. Read on to meet our Create Change alumni.
Moira: Haifa, I was drawn to your project and your commitment to engaging all sorts of folks, including elected officials and real estate developers. Can you tell me about your Laundromat Project residency and share some of your successes?
Haifa: The Laundromat Project was vital to my development as an artist and has informed my practice in new and empowering ways. For six months I worked in residency at a laundromat with residents in South Yonkers. My project, Take Me to the River, had the objective of fabricating a community-based mosaic depicting the importance of access to the Hudson River while empowering residents to organize and speak-out against increased industrialization. This has occurred as the City of Yonkers relocates industrial sites from the downtown “revitalization” waterfront to the waterfront in South Yonkers, blocking residents access to the River. We were able to successfully engage local politicians, developers and residents in dialogue and to bring awareness to the plight of South Yonkers residents need for recreation and river access.
Moira: In similar form, my practice is shaped by the urban environment, its cycles, mobility, wildlife and people as well as through the exchanges I experience doing my work in public places. I am interested in the exchange of gestures, the not so visible, ecosystems as well as fragility and its strength. The work is process-based; loaded with shifts, turns, failures and surprises! The creative process is so rarely linear. Did anything surprise you as the residency unfolded?
Haifa: Well, we began the residency with a clear idea of where the mosaic would be installed, but we still pondered the ways in which the mosaic could be a lasting testimony to our process. One day as we were taking a walk to the river with the local children, one of them made the comment that we should install blue tiles into the sidewalk cracks. They felt this would create a powerful image of the river breaking through the sidewalk while also creating a path that referenced the river even though we could not gain access directly. This concept was so brilliant and came from Maria, a third grader! The adults had really gotten so caught up in completing our mosaic project and larger goal, that I feel we neglected to listen to other voices. We had done the very thing that we were advocating against. We proceeded to fill all of the sidewalk cracks with blue mosaic creating a wonderful way-finding walkway leading down to the river.
Moira: I’m working on project called Adopt a Box, which is a community partnership between my neighborhood and a local shipping warehouse to create presence in an unsafe subway exit and walkway in my neighborhood. Adopt a Box will be planter boxes that community members can adopt and care for along the 600-foot long outer wall of a warehouse. Each planter box will have the adoptee’s name on it and they will be provided with soil, mulch, seeds and plants. However, the folks who adopt a planter box will have free reign over their planting and decorating choices. Benches and trellis will also be installed along the sidewalk as well as several lights. Inspired by you Haifa and Maria, the sidewalk will have green tiles mosaicked into the cracks to direct people to Irving Park, Eldert Street Community Garden, Make A Road’s community garden and chicken coop, The Social Justice High School’s Eco Station and several other public green places. We may even point to folk’s private green spaces that they would like to share with the neighborhood in annual neighborhood garden walks! At our next community meeting, we will be talk about creating a mural, gathering seed suggestions, and a ribbon cutting ceremony.
I find being part of the LP community embodied in the book club that we are starting! We can continue our lively conversations and then shake them up with questions, critical thoughts and considerations about making, doing, community, social practice, social justice and how it all lives together, crossing and mixing cultures. It’s really exciting to be part of a community where we can feed each other in so many ways. The book club is a place for former, recent and future LP alumni too. Maintaining a curious, creative and thoughtful community is important. Haifa, how about you? What has being part of The LP’s artistic community meant for you?
Haifa: A significant impact to my art practice came from the support and network of fellow artists working within a socially engaged practice. As a Muslim-American, I have found it difficult to navigate an environment that still holds “ALL” Muslims responsible for or connected to the crimes committed on September 11th. The impact on Muslims has been pervasive and overwhelming, but we are very rarely in a safe environment to speak about that. As an artist, we work these things out in our practice, but I’ve felt the impact from curators, organizations, grantors, etc. who feel that the subject matter is “too sensitive” or “too complicated.” Being in an environment where my voice and perspective were valued and supported enabled me take risks that I haven’t felt safe to take.
Moira: I’d love to hear about your next projects!
Haifa: I’m currently working on a body of work that addresses the Abu Ghraib images as well as the rape and murder and burning of a 13-year old Iraqi girl, Abeer, by American soldiers. Social engagement, social justice and the points at which they converge in an art practice are rough waters to navigate, but nevertheless we need to set sail and be off. That requires the kind of support and resources that I received during the Create Change Residency. I’m excited and energized and looking forward to embarking on this new journey. The support I received has given me a voice. Moira, what’s on the horizon for you now?
Moira: My interest continues to live in the dirt! Two other projects that I am working on in collaboration with soil scientists will focuses on urban soil. One is focused on urban soil as a living story about movement, value, and displacement. Another has to do with seed dispersal and immigration.
I am also a co-founder of an interdisciplinary walk co-operative called Walk Exchange. We are actively building a walking community that is interested in walking as a creative and educational practice. Each year we provide a free Walk Study Training Course to promote walking as learning through the body, an active and lively way to exchange ideas, and community building. We believe that walking is a powerful way to generate and share ideas.
The Laundromat Project commissions awesome New York City artists to make special edition prints and design merchandise. The sale of these items helps The LP bring fun, accessible, community-responsive arts programming to laundromats and other public spaces across the city. To purchase a print or tote bag, please click here.
Tell us about your LP commissioned print.
A song originally produced by rebel renaissance man, Melvin Van Peebles for his 1982 play, Waltz Of The Stork inspired my LP commission. In the end, it is Grace Jones’ interpretation of the song, “The Apple Stretching”, and her intonation of the line, “New Graffiti Old Revolutions”, that made its way into my consciousness, and later back out into the world.
What inspired you to support The Laundromat Project?
I believe in programs that impact communities from the roots up.
What’s your neighborhood?
I live in Bedford-Stuyvesant, two years ago I moved here out of necessity. Now I can’t imagine living anywhere else.
Where do you do your laundry?
I do my laundry in my apartment.
What’s your favorite sound, texture or color?
Passion.
What songs/albums get you going when work is hard?
Lotusflow3r – Prince
Tell It Like It Is – Nina Simone
Land 1 & 2 – Patti Smith
The Harder They Come – Jimmy Cliff
Fly – Yoko Ono
Marcus Garvey / Garvey’s Ghost – Burning Spear
What’s your favorite word?
MORE.
What are you working on now?
Working like a slave to become a master.
What’s your favorite thing about printmaking?
Being introduced to expansive possibilities by a master.
Any current or upcoming show/performance you want to recommend?
Bigger Than Shadows
DODGEgallery
Curated by Rich Blint and Ian Cofre
Closing: December 22, 2012
Caribe Now: Contemporary Art of the Caribbean Diaspora
The Nathan Cummings Foundation
Curated by Rocio Aranda-Alvarado
Closing: January 18, 2013 (reservations required for viewing)
Check out Jayson’s special edition print on the Shop page.
The Laundromat Project commissions awesome New York City artists to make special edition prints and design merchandise. The sale of these items helps The LP bring fun, accessible, community-responsive arts programming to laundromats and other public spaces across the city. To purchase a print or tote bag,please click here.
The prison-industry complex is complex. Some of the most mundane aspects of the business are absolutely striking in their ruthless efficiency, and the pattern of outreach affects everyone.
What inspired you to support The Laundromat Project?
To start: canned pear halves on iceberg lettuce with a dollop of cottage cheese.
Fried chicken, black eyed peas, white rice, mustard greens, cheese macaroni and cornbread.
Wedges of peaches wrapped in prosciutto and whole basil leaves.
Apple pie with butter pecan ice cream and cheddar cheese slices. (Sorry, I got a little carried away, but people of color do account for 55% of those currently awaiting execution.)
What’s your favorite sound, texture or color?
I love the sound of bubble wrap; I vainly cherish the texture of my hair and, like the kids say, my favorite color is rainbow.
What’s your favorite word?
Bim.
What most inspires your work?
People.
What your favorite thing about printmaking?
The exponential possibilities that can be achieved using a short list of materials.
What are you working on now?
Action as printmaking and sculpture. Enhanced writing surfaces.
Check out Kenya’s special edition print on the Shop page.
Each year, our artist development program, Create Change, supports 15 to 20 artists developing their socially engaged creative practice through our Fellowship, Residency, and Commissions program. In 2012, we began asking our Create Change artists to pair up for Creative Conversations: open-ended creative exchanges to be published on our blog. Read on to meet our Create Change alumni.
Tomie: One of the reasons I am so enthused about doing this interview is that I feel both of us work in the Asian community and have so much to share and learn from each other. The big difference is that I started doing community art in the 1970’s —almost 40 years ago—and the art world has changed significantly since those days. The internet, of course, has completely altered the way we communicate with each other, but the ways in which contemporary artists position themselves in relation to the world around them is also markedly different. I still refer to the public work that I do as ‘community art’ but the term ‘art based social practice’ is now more commonly used. How would you describe what you do–what does an art-based social practice mean to you, and what is the relationship between art and activism in your own life?
Betty: My practice as multi-media artist is shaped and influenced by my direct experience as a community labor organizer, media justice activist, and daughter raised by garment worker parents. I believe that our social change movements need art and media that can popularize our issues and create a culture of resistance that can move people to take action. In my artwork, I approach social justice issues through my own personal story, family narrative and community’s history. My body of work has explored issues like the labor rights of Chinese workers in the U.S., immigration reform, racial justice, militarism, and gender equity.
While my short films, multi-media and interactive art projects are meant to be educational, inspiring and thought provoking, my bigger intention is to provoke people to question our society’s power structure and this system that serves the corporate interests of the 1%. The subject of my multi-media projects usually document the courage and resilience of historically marginalized communities who have boldly come forward to advocate on behalf of themselves and others. Through my direct engagement in communities, I have access to people’s stories and can provide a platform for their voices to be elevated and heard. For me, it’s important to maintain my integrity as a cultural worker and mediamaker. Therefore, it’s vital that the people featured in my work trust me, and believe that I will represent their stories and experiences with the utmost respect and dignity.
Tomie: I was particularly struck by how good you were at engaging the people who participated in your Create Change laundromat project, “The Garment Worker”. Neighborhoods like Sunset Park present special challenges and unless you speak all four or five Chinese dialects, there will always be cultural obstacles that make it difficult to communicate and involve the people you want to reach. What has been the most difficult/challenging aspect of what you do, and what would you tell other artists who are struggling with similar issues?
Betty: “The Garment Worker” helped spark dialogue between immigrant and American born Chinese community members who talked about their own working conditions, life, family and community. I set up an audio podcasting station to record members oral histories about their neighborhood, work and life. In addition, I taught basic video and lent out flip video cameras so a handful of residents could interview one another or shoot footage of their neighborhood.
What became apparent to me is that community residents definitely wanted to tell their story but there is also a lot of shame attached to it. For many, coming to this country as immigrants and barely making ends meet is nothing they want to share with the world. I found it challenging to get older workers and residents to talk but younger folks were more willing to be open and share their experiences and stories in this country. I really wanted to get across to folks telling their own story, from their own voice, that whatever they wanted to share was powerful in itself. Some of the community members weren’t aware that there were workers organizations that they could go to with their workplace problems to organize. This was an opportunity for me to share what others in the community are doing to fight for better conditions. For many, an audio recording was much less intimidating than going on camera to talk. So after recording a dozen or so audio recordings, folks kept asking me ‘where can I find my story’? And I realize that now there should be a Part 2 to this project. I’m trying to figure out the right medium, but I am thinking about creating something online where residents can go to hear their own recorded stories. My biggest lesson learned through this project is that relationships and trust are really important. The relationships that are fostered with community based organizations as well as individual residents who are willing to help out, participate and spread the word is invaluable.
Betty: Tomie, I am really drawn to your work and commitment to document and showcase the faces of everyday people from the Asian community and other underrepresented communities. I’m inspired by your mural projects that do the same and highlight those fragile voices. What is so inspirational is your commitment to being an artist that creates community-minded art for so many years. I personally wonder how have you been able to do this? What challenges and barriers have crossed your path? What advice do you have for young emerging artists?
Tomie: Over the course of several decades of work, I find that my assumptions about my art-based social practice are constantly being challenged by the people I work with. Working with the community used to mean working in a neighborhood, on a block or on the street. In a Post-9/11 era, we have to redefine community to include the more global world we live in. I believe wholeheartedly in the concept of working locally, but I think that your experiences with groups of immigrant workers is now the new reality. We are all migrants in some form or fashion, struggling with issues of displacement. A more glocal world, however, means our roles as artmakers can be so much more fluid and inclusive. I don’t think I can offer much advice to younger artists, but I have learned a few lessons along the way that have humbled me and they are:
1. Making art with the community is very hard work and beware of using formulas for success. We tend to avoid conflict, or view it as a measurement of failure because it is unpleasant and threatening. But if we are going to make art outside of the art world, in places where art is not usually made, we need to realize how difficult this process actually is. We are not just making art, but exchanging ideas about what gives our lives meaning and worth. Conflict, failures and mistakes are part of the process.
2. It takes a long time to build the kind of trust you mentioned was necessary to get the Chinese garment workers to open up to the process. Be patient and committed.
3. Being an outsider is sometimes not an obstacle. Entering a community with respect and without the historical and social baggage of insiders sometimes allows you to listen and participate in unexpected ways. As an outsider, you may be able to mediate situations that are very charged politically, racially or socially. It is not always necessary for everyone to look and think alike.
and 4. Artists are part of the community too. We need to support each other and the work we are doing. Thank you, Laundromat Project! I’m grateful that you understand how important it is for artists to exchange ideas and celebrate their accomplishments.
Learn more about Betty’s work, including “The Garment Worker,” on her website.
Each year, our artist development program, Create Change, supports 15 to 20 artists developing their socially engaged creative practice through our Fellowship, Residency, and Commissions program. In 2012, we began asking our Create Change artists to pair up for Creative Conversations: open-ended creative exchanges to be published on our blog. Read on to meet our Create Change alumni.
Suran: What drew you to The LP Fellowship Program? Also, I’d like to ask you about Ann Arbor and The Residential College at University of Michigan. Did your experience there prompt you in The LP’s direction at all?
Julia: I was drawn to the Laundromat Project for similar reasons as I was drawn to the Residential College (RC) at the University of Michigan. I was looking to be involved in an intimate community of people who were committed to social justice, the arts, and the community. People who were curious and asking questions, challenging assumptions, pushing boundaries with their work and ideas and being. I came to the Residential College wanting to study drama, but what I quickly found was that the arts couldn’t stand alone in a pure way, and I didn’t want to be involved in art for just “arts sake,” as they say.
I got involved in a group called the Prison Creative Arts Project and everything changed for me. I started facilitating theater and creative writing workshops in prisons and youth facilities in Michigan. I was witnessing oppressive systems in a ways I had had the privilege never to see before. Art held a power I had always known for myself, but never had to recognize; art was freedom. Self-expression and community building in spaces that are designed to separate, isolate, and dehumanize was liberating. At 18 I was discovering the power and necessity of artistic practice to help build cultural power, to engage individuals and communities in positive, humanizing struggle. Actually, at that time, I pushed against the identify of “artist” for myself and tried on being a “social scientist” for a while, exploring the social, political, historical systems and situations that were creating and supporting the spaces I would enter. There was no time for being an artist, so I thought.
Suran: I can’t help but think you were feeling the pins and needles of innovating what art can encompass when you say you felt “there was not time for art”. It’s funny the two endeavors were felt as opposed. I recall there was a similar rift between fine art and crafts, between sculpture and ceramics for example — pure concept vs. working function.
Julia: But I didn’t feel whole. …It’s taken me almost a decade, but I’m finding my artist identity again, and being part of The Laundromat Project accelerated that process. Being in a room full of people who say “I’m an artist, this is my artistic practice,” AND “I believe in social justice. I believe that art is an essential part of community building”…. I am reemerging in an artist identity, one that demands social engagement as the power behind the art.
Suran: Clearly, you give a damn! Both your presence and art embody that care. You are excellent at listening and putting on and walking in other people’s shoes.
Julia: Thank you. Questions for you! Feeling like there’s a connection here for us about these paths/journeys in our artistic processes! I’m curious about your punk rock days, your interest in Sanskrit and yoga and how all of it inspires your art making.
Suran: There is a connection in our studio spirit! The zeitgeist of Ann Arbor, MI where I went to high school too is very much about giving a damn, and believing that civic engagement is totally possible for even just one person to undertake. That stubbornness to extend inclusion as a creative act is a great source of energy. In making art that uses yoga as a medium, where yoga means bringing together, I think of Shakey Jake of Ann Arbor who raised his expression of kindness into fine art. He would be out and about town everyday, consistently present, and offer the individual passing by a song or a flower, a drawing or food! He would sit in different areas of town to improvise songs and action art that celebrated whatever nook of weather and circumstance in the moment. He was the first Performance Artist I ever saw. He was sometimes mistaken as a panhandler, homeless person, or busker because he beautifully defied expectation for public exchange. And the punk rock that I grew up with there was such a blessing! Having bands from my high school participate in shows that brought other bands like Minor Threat to a church basement for a local concert planned by local musicians for touring local musicians, listening to each other in songs, and creating a trans-local conversation was early proof of the joy of grass roots. That’s what I love about The LP — it is a place where artists really enjoy thoughtful conversation with their viewers and their peers. The LP is breaking in a tour route of sorts now with laundromats in Philly! It’s the wonderful provision of the experience of “no stage platform”, and it facilitates such rich life.
Julia: I love the idea that the “LP facilitates rich life.” Perhaps it is when we can understand and feel the richness of creativity, free self-expression, and healthy words and actions that we’ll be able to move past bifurcating arts and social justice. It was in a LP session this summer that I expressed the idea that community is the opposite of capitalism. Where do we find our riches?
Suran: In yoga it is found in not harming your body, or other people, or the world. Are you helping yourself and all those around you to be at home? How do you give a damn? Literally, the volume of punk (even through heavy duty earplugs) made my organs jiggle in my rib cage. I was moved through that tremendous sensory input to experience the link of my inner-bodily reactions my perception of sound. And so, the bodily experience always has the mystery of finding yourself at home in your body. Sanskrit chanting also reverberates in your organs!
A favorite Sanskrit Mantra: Lokah Samastha Sukhino Bhavanthu… May all beings everywhere without exception be happy, healthy, and free, and may my thoughts, words, and actions in some way be a contribution.
In Sanskrit, Minor Threat is talking about Brahmacharya Dristhi. Brahmacharya means conservation: energy management by not gazing upon nature as an object of desire; using energy to find in(ward)dependent happiness. So, not objectifying nature, or yourself is the path to richness. Dristhi in yoga, is how you place the gaze in the poses and breath with soft mouth and eye muscles. “It doesn’t look that way to me…in my eyes,” the lyrics challenge conventional sight –are you gazing without malice, without seeing lack in yourself and others?
Julia: How do we create, embody, live, and express wholeness? Yeah…”how do you give a damn?” One of the things I loved so much about your project with yoga arts in the laundromat were the regulars who showed up, and about how you then opened your home so that more people could show up more often. And how you show up! That’s what I’ve always felt to be essential in working inside any kind of system (prison, education, etc) – that so much of our work is showing up, being present with people. That’s part of the base of our community work.
Suran: Thank you. Clearing out home to make space for neighbors and yoga arts was a giant growth step in receiving joy, in being brave that wouldn’t have happened without The LP Residency. Svaha and svadeshi! Svaha is throwing your ego into the sun to burn up, and svadeshi is throwing yourself into your own neighborhood’s sun, that energy of independence through local production. What you say about capitalism and community is also how we hold our gaze in the world, which is the domain of visual art. Community at root is not about accumulation and power. That is only aggregation. Jain farmers for instance do not uproot the whole veggie. They look very slowly and carefully to split the root in order to leave the life force intact in home ground. Food, work, labor (any energy/matter) is not an object to tear-out from its source as quickly as possible for itemization and market consumption because it is part of ourselves, nature. Community is about how we show-up in the world to treat ourselves and others to make richness and non-violence the landscape. That’s what is so strengthening about The LP. In my residency at the neighborhood laundromat, where I offered yoga classes, yoga based-printmaking, and the yoga principles on the flags, this point of being really became clear. Creativity, well being — these joys belong to all everywhere, not just in compartmentalized spa gallery settings. Seeing someone as a consumer is an objectification. Community is a loving spirit that makes evident in art and heart practice the difference between respect and objectification. Knowing that difference, practicing that difference is public art, like Shakey Jake. Alas, that is why I sense our Gonzo-Hyper-Invisible-Hand-Global-Capitalism from Ayn Rand and Milton Friedman comes from the most cruel poverty which can occur in material affluence too, that unfortunate circumstance where abuse is mistaken as love.
Aisha Bell is The Laundromat Project’s 2012 Create Change commissioned artist. The LP’s commissioning arm connects artists of color and their communities in meaningful ways by resourcing them to make art in their own neighborhood and in the context of everyday living.
Where do you live?
Bedford-Stuyvesant.
What’s your favorite thing about your neighborhood?
The children playing on the sidewalk.
Tell us about your recent LP commissioned project.
SUSU is an old Twi word that means little by little. It refers to groups of people putting in a little at a time to create something bigger. In contemporary practice in West Africa, the Caribbean and various immigrant communities in the US and Europe, it is a form of microeconomics. For this project I collected one or two articles of clothing and words written on index cards from folks in my community over the course of six weeks. On a series of days in front of the laundromat, I bleached the donated clothes and then re-dyed them red, yellow and blue. I allowed them to drip dry on watercolor paper as I hung them to line dry on Malcolm X Blvd. For my final performance, I tied all of the clothing around me creating a huge skirt. I recited the contribution of words from my neighbors during this performance. I then brought the clothing to my studio space and used them to create two sculptures – one for the Laundromat and one to be displayed in a public space in Bed-Stuy.
How did your neighbors respond to your project?
For the most part the response was very positive. Many folks were curious and receptive. People liked the idea of donating clothing for a good cause. The very young and the very old were the most receptive. The use of the clothing line and the wash tubs sparked nostalgic conversations with several people from a variety of backgrounds whose parents washed them and their clothes in wash tubs.
What most inspires your work?
The exploration and the reflection of self. The act of being aware and awake. Ideas on empathy and the multiplicity of who we are at any moment.
What are you working on now?
Currently I am editing a series of performance videos shot on Governors Island. I am also working on a series of drawings inspired by the Susu Project. The clothing line, the washtub and the cocoon, become part of my visual lexicon.
Any current or upcoming show/performance you want to recommend?
The Laundromat Project commissions awesome New York City artists to make special edition prints and design merchandise. The sale of these items helps The LP bring fun, accessible, community-responsive arts programming to laundromats and other public spaces across the city. To purchase a print or tote bag, please click here.
Tell us about your LP commissioned print.
Made with shoe polish and ink, this print comes from a series of shoe polish drawings entitled be(tunes).
I am addressing the issue of immigration and history. By looking at the course of events that have led to the make-up of my community, there is a better understanding of how we connect to those moments and each other, especially through music and language.
The city of Potosí, Bolivia was a major source of capital in the world during the colonization of South America and conquest of the Inca empire. By abusing its indigenous population and African slaves, the city gained its wealth from silver mining. Coming from Ecuador, its important to understand the lineage of struggle that influences migrations of people affected by these events.
By chanting the name of the city Potosí, Bolivia, its invocation provides an intersection of past and present struggles. The city’s history of colonization is paired with existing vernacular for police and other meanings through this sound. Chanting, like other forms of music, shows how the role of improvisation is a way to re-define and present current conditions.
Why do you care about the issue you chose to focus on for this print?
New York City is made of neighborhoods that offer diverse histories of migration. These intersections often come from moments of struggle, such as colonization, war or police brutality. These histories are valuable and allow for new meanings. Yet, they also offer new direction through re-invention and re-purposing of materials.
What inspired you to support The Laundromat Project?
I have known of The LP since its founding. I’ve always felt the use of a local laundromat to support public projects is an inventive venue for social art practice. By activating a local resource, the art projects proposed are more conscious of a neighborhood’s make-up.
What’s your neighborhood?
I’m currently at the Core Program Residency in Houston, Texas. But grew up in the Bronx, NY.
What’s your favorite New York song, poem, movie or novel?
La Bodega Sold Dreams, by Miguel Piñero.
What’s your favorite sound, texture or color?
A sub-woofer at full blast.
What are you reading now?
This is How You Lose Her, Junot Diaz.
What your favorite thing about printmaking?
You can print it again.
What are you working on now?
Large drawings of basketball courts.
Check out Ronny’s special edition print on the Shop page.
The Laundromat Project commissions awesome New York City artists to make special edition prints and design merchandise. The sale of these items helps The LP bring fun, accessible, community-responsive arts programming to laundromats and other public spaces across the city. To purchase a print or tote bag, please click here.
Tell us about your LP commissioned print.
Post White is a screen print. It is a text based work that simply has the words “Post White” printed in a clear gloss on white paper. If you don’t look closely, it might seem like just a blank piece of paper. I hope that people frame it and that some casual viewers think that the owner has bought the emperor’s new clothes. But on second look it is a work that references the concept of “Post Black” by looking at a mirror of that: “Post White.” It’s literal and a conceptual pun. What would Post White be?
The world is a horror and it doesn’t have to be like this. As part of this, the conditions that Black people face in the US are a real concentration of much of that horror—first slavery, then Jim Crow segregation and now mass incarceration; police brutality and murder; staggering unemployment; houses and wealth stolen in sub-prime lending, etc. How people, including many in the arts, think about the conditions of Black people has a great deal to do with whether we can bring about a better world. I think that the concept of Post Black tends to minimize the ongoing oppression the majority of Black people face. And the flip side of that ironically is that it doesn’t escape the logic of Black and white in america and implies that for artists who choose not to address this in their art, somehow they have to pretend (or come to believe) that we don’t live in a racist and racialized society.
What inspired you to support The Laundromat Project?
The LP rocks and you asked for support.
What’s your neighborhood?
Ft. Greene.
What’s your favorite thing about your neighborhood?
Alison Kibbe and Sasha Phyars-Burgess are 2015 Create Change Commissions Artists for their project StoryBlock, through which they are deepening the community partnerships they began last year with the Kelly Street Garden.
They have been hard on work on their project and sent us the following update about their project, to be featured at the Kelly Street Garden on Saturday, August 15th:
The StoryBlock summer has been filled with the honor of hearing some amazing stories from residents of Kelly Street. Now we’re ready to begin to share those stories.
We will be at the Kelly Street Block Party on Saturday, August 15th with a “Listening Booth” offering previews of stories. Local photographer, Imani Vidal, will be helping out with “Portrait for a Story”—we’ll be offering free family and individual portraits in exchange for short stories and memories from residents. If you’re on the block you’ll also be able to see portraits of community members displayed in local storefronts thanks to business owners who’ve generously offered their windows as public gallery space.
As you can see in Sasha’s photos from last year, the Block Party was quite the party. We’re looking forward to an even better time this year!
This week we’re excited to launch our online archive at storyblockstories.tumblr.com. As the project grows we will continue to add more stories, so keep watching for new content.
You can also follow us on our Facebook and Instagram @storyblockstories!
Looking ahead, on Wednesday, September 16th, we’ll be offering “Recipe for a Story,” a storytelling workshop about the stories and memories we carry around food.
In 2014, The Laundromat Project partnered with the Sugar Hill Children’s Museum of Art & Storytelling to select a single visual artist for a seven-month residency at the museum. As part of the residency, the artist works with students at the on-site Sugar Hill Museum Preschool.
Read on to meet the artist-in-residence, David Shrobe, and find out more about him.
Left: David in his new studio space. Right: David and students at the Sugar Hill Museum Preschool.
What’s your neighborhood and how long have you lived there?
Central Harlem. Around 22 years in an apartment off Lenox ave that my great grandfather bought for our family in 1925.
What’s your favorite thing about living in your neighborhood?
Harlem USA is a unique diverse cultural gem; a city within a city with a sense of vitality and community unlike most places, that continues to give it its character, strength and power, that continuously attracts visitors from all walks of life from around the globe. Even though all the big corporations have moved in, they cannot take over or eliminate Harlem’s true essence; its rich history, and culture, its art, its mom and pop stores still thriving for generations, its beautiful people, architecture, soul food, old bodegas and classy uptown style. The many diverse and intergenerational communities are just a few things I love about Harlem, it’s home! Just “drop me off in Harlem!”
What is one thing about it you would change?
The dynamic between the police and the residents of the community, so the police would serve and protect the people first instead of the system.
Often my most recent piece and the assiduous grind, passion and work of my peers and other artists I admire cranking out great art.
Tell us about an artist who has influenced your work?
David Hammons for forcing us to reimagine the familiar. I am inspired by his cross pollination of found objects which evoke the black experience and the unrepresented, and for his uncompromising approach to the art world.
What does “socially-engaged art” mean to you?
Art that speaks to certain conditions/inequalities that currently exist. Art that uses material that connotes a certain social/political attitude or position. Work that addresses the dilemmas of people of color and the struggle of oppressed people all over the globe.
What will you be working on next?
Mixed media paintings and sculpture using found ephemera and a convergence of a variety of media to evoke specific cultural histories and personal memories.
In partnership with the Laundromat Project, The Sugar Hill Children’s Museum of Art & Storytelling has selected David Shrobe as their inaugural artist-in-residence for 2015. He makes work that encompasses painting, drawing, sculpture, collage, assemblage, and transfer techniques. Shrobe was born, lives, and works in New York City and recently completed a residency at the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture in 2014.
