“Every environmental disaster is also a social disaster, every civil emergency is rooted in the ongoing social emergency that we are experiencing in this country.”
– Alene Goldbarg, USDAC Chief Policy Wonk
My training as an artist was primarily focused on creating cultural artifacts and then finding an audience to share them with. As I’ve expanded my creative practice, I’ve come to question the value of art that is centered solely around the individual creating the work, rather than taking into account the needs of the community that it is intended to serve. But it can be very challenging to conjure a bridge between self-expression and ethical social engagement out of thin air.
Recently I rewatched Art Became the Oxygen: Citizen Artist Salon, a webinar from The U.S. Department of Arts and Culture. (The USDAC is “a people-powered department—a grassroots action network inciting creativity and social imagination to shape a culture of empathy, equity, and belonging,” and not affiliated with the United States government.) One truly moving moment from the salon was Arlene Goldbard’s statement that protest isn’t separate from beauty and meaning—that artistic expression can provide the means to call out what isn’t working, and imagine what might be possible instead.
A direct line between creative practice and climate change was drawn by Rachel Falcone, who had been covering the housing crisis in Brooklyn and ended up using her background in oral history to document the stories of the people affected by Hurricane Sandy. After the storm had passed, she went to a community hub in Red Hook where people were getting food and charging their devices. As community members shared the imagery on their phones and talked about the emotional and psychological impact of witnessing the devastation, she realized that the story of Sandy was far too large for her to sit for hours with every person to document their oral history of the event. Instead, she had the inspiration to set up Sandy Storyline, which invited anyone impacted by the storm to share their stories via text or voicemail, and, a few weeks later, through a website. The living archive is now at www.sandystoryline.com, and features writings, recording, and photographs that people have shared over the years.
Another strategy for addressing environmental destruction was shared by Amber Hanson, a South Dakota-based artist and filmmaker. She had been invited as an assistant muralist to make a community-based mural in Joplin, Missouri, with lead artist David Loewenstein and fellow assistant muralist and filmmaker Nicholas Ward. One week before their project was due to begin, an EF5 tornado destroyed a third of the city. They weren’t sure if it would be possible to move ahead with their plans, so they made a site visit to check in with the community and design team, who expressed the feeling that “now more than ever we would like this project to continue.” Ultimately the project offered people who had experienced the tornado the opportunity to come together and share their stories while imagining ways to rebuild Joplin, a process captured by Hanson and Ward in the documentary “Called to Walls.” As proof that beauty can come from chaos, the local design team that helped to create the mural later formed a collective to create public art throughout the city of Joplin.
Hanson and Ward also traveled to Standing Rock to deliver supplies and document the events taking place. The filmmaker’s goal was to counteract the representation in the media of dangerous protesters throwing pipe bombs, and to focus their lens on how art and culture were being integrated into the camp and movement through dance, painted signs, and moments strategically designed to be captured and shared with the rest of the world. Their trip resulted in a short documentary featuring a Dene graphic designer and movement artist who creates artwork intended to catalyze movements. They also met Desiree Kane, a Miwok artist, journalist, and producer, who was the main media coordinator at the camp. She has written several articles about her time there, one of which is featured in the USDAC’s “Art Became the Oxygen: An Artistic Response Guide.”
The last speaker was Mike O’Bryan, Program Manager in Youth Arts Education at the Village of Arts and Humanities in North Central Philadelphia, who spoke about values-driven leadership, trauma theory, and building on cultural strengths and assets. One of the final points he made is that the dominant culture does not always know how to value the diverse cultural wealth that ethnic communities bring to the table, including linguistic capital (the intellectual and social skills attained through communication in more than one language or style), navigational capital (the skill of maneuvering through social spaces and places that have not traditionally been created with people of color in mind), and resistant capital (the knowledge and skills fostered through oppositional behavior that challenges inequality). These are all forms of expertise that will be crucial in transforming the power structures of our world. If we want to halt ecological devastation and create a more equitable society for all, we are going to need to learn to value the contributions of everyone engaged in the struggle.
In the following discussion, all of the presenters and commenters agreed that this is long-term, ongoing work. It’s not helpful to drop in, do just enough to make yourself feel important, and then abandon a community that believed you were making an investment. The good news is that there are people who are already forging this path, who have not only developed best practices around artistic response to social crisis and environmental emergencies, but have actually created a toolkit to help the rest of us get started (Art Became the Oxygen, an Artistic Response Guide). I would encourage anyone who is interested in this work to read the guide and watch the recording of the Salon. It has inspired me to keep moving towards a more constructive and contributive model of creative engagement, and I hope it will impact others in the same way.