Field Futures?

Saturday, April 27, 2019

Common Field 2019 Philadelphia Convening

Download a PDF version of the Field Futures texts here.

Eva Aguila, Coaxial (Los Angeles, CA)
Eepi Chaad, Art League Houston (Houston, TX)
Jenna Crowder, The Chart (Portland, ME)
Andreana Donahue, Disparate Minds (Chicago, IL)
Vashti DuBois, The Colored Girls Museum (Philadelphia, PA)
Kristan Kennedy, PICA (Portland, OR)
Aaron Levy, Slought (Philadelphia, PA)
Conrad Meyers and Willis Meyers, Aggregate Space Gallery (Oakland, CA)
Jessica Moss, The Roll Up CLT (Charlotte NC)
S. Rodriguez, Paraspace Books (Houston, TX)
Ekrem Serdar, Squeaky Wheel (Buffalo, NY)
Christina Vassallo, SPACES (Cleveland, OH)
Mary Welcome, Cabin-Time, Camp Little Hope, M12 Studio, Art of the Rural (Itinerant and Palouse, WA)
Nicholas Wylie, Public Media Institute (Chicago, IL)

Tim Bray

Aurora Tang, Center for Land Use Interpretation (CLUI) and Common Field (Los Angeles, CA)
Courtney Fink, Common Field, (Los Angeles, CA)

This All Together session explored the future of our field, from a wide range of perspectives and voices. Fourteen arts organizers from around the country share statements on their big picture visioning, manifestos, existential questions, speculative thinking, and dreams for our field of artist-centered, innovative, and responsive arts organizing in America.

If we do our job, what will change? What needs to change? What would the field look like? What should the field look like?

Following these provocations, audience members were invited to contribute their forward-thinking, future-oriented visions for the field.

How can we shape the narrative and propose ideas for our evolving form and purpose? How can we build an even brighter and better field?


Eva Aguila, Coaxial (Los Angeles, CA)
We are currently in a shifting dynamic in which we are trying to correct the past. We need to continue evaluating our decisions and considering the personal roles we play in art systems. Implicit bias still exists in every aspect of our lives. We need to actively and publicly recognize this, so that we can advocate for an equitable future. Being a passive voice is no longer acceptable in the ethos of the cultural sector.

I am all for a free America, but one where people have equal access to that freedom, and freedom is not just reserved for certain people. Access is key to continue the growth of a sustainable future. We are not as actively inclusive as we all could be. There are too many barriers within the existing cultural structures.

I sometimes feel bad and angry about who I am because of where I come from and how hard I had to work in order to break the barriers. I attribute a lot of my success to luck, and that is not a sustainable model for existing within this field. One should not feel like they won the lottery in order to exist within this structure. I became an arts organizer to help others like me who face these challenges. To show them that they also have a place in this system. Some of these talented individuals don’t have the language or the resources because of socioeconomic disadvantage. Art should not just be for the privileged, we all need culture and we all deserve to be part of it.

Eepi Chaad, Art League Houston (Houston, TX)

I look around this space and see some of the great thinkers of our time. This is a room full of
explorers, investigators, & creative problem solvers and our skill sets have worth in our
communities. I’d like for us to collectively choose to demand a space in the process of creating
a livable future. I’d also like to see perceptions of the value & inherent need for our work in our
communities to shift in a way that provides each of us with access to basic needs for creating a
fulfilling life, such as:
● Room to exist in green spaces
● Clean food & the means to cultivate our health in the way that we choose
● The ability to travel & move freely without fear
● Time to interact & share deeply
so that we can grow truly nurturing connections with each other and our world. Thank you for
sharing this space and moment in time.

Jenna Crowder, The Chart (Portland, ME)

preface: an acknowledgment of a recent conversation with a friend, in which we were discussing the idea of losing the desire to be right. The following was written with that spirit in mind.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this field, and about what I want it to look like, or, from my perspective, what I think it "should" look like. I want to acknowledge as well that so much of this thinking has been shaped by so many incredible people, some of whom are here in this room today — thank you.

I want to work in a field that privileges sincerity and kindness. A field that ensures that the individuals that comprise it — all of us — actively care for each other’s health and well-being; perhaps we can also agree to normalize taking care of ourselves.

I’m interested in accountability, and actively working with transparency, collaboration, and humility, without defense.

I imagine the possibilities for us to make space to invite critique and to really be able to hear it, out of love for this work and out of respect for the culture in which we work.

I want this field to model abundance across all possible levels.

I want us to be thoughtful and rigorous in our thinking and in our language, and to bring others along with us.

I imagine a spirit of generosity so powerful that we might even recognize when we need to step out the way or to cede power.

In short, I imagine us transforming our best intentions into best practices.

Andreana Donahue, Disparate Minds (Chicago, IL)

For many years I've worked at the intersection of art and disability fields in addition to my studio practice. I'm a co-founder of Disparate Minds (, an interdisciplinary initiative dedicated to discussing the work of artists with developmental disabilities in a contemporary context. My co-founder and I host weekly open studio sessions at The Stony Island Arts Bank, providing access to materials and space for artists with and without disabilities living on the South Side of Chicago. I'm also the Art Manager at Arts of Life (a progressive art studio comparable to Creative Growth) with a model based in collective decision-making. Through these endeavors, I work with artists every day who are the most vulnerable and marginalized members of society; they are directly impacted by regressive public policy, so advocacy and increasing visibility is more important than ever.

Working across art and disability has been a unique experience in that I've been able to witness a significant shift in the culture over the past ten years - artists creating work in progressive art studios have increasingly converged with the broader contemporary art community. When I started doing this work, artists such as Marlon Mullen, Billy White, and Helen Rae were not being shown in contemporary spaces as they are now - they weren't even part of the dialogue. Issues surrounding art and disability are starting to be included in the conversation and language is finally beginning to shift. Many artists working as facilitators in progressive art studios are now creating their own organizations to support artists with and without disabilities, in order to achieve a sustainable model. The Public Annex talk this morning provided great insight into the recent history of this transition.

We're currently living through a strange time and I find it difficult envisioning what the field might look like five years from now. I do believe, however, that we can act in a highly intentional manner now to create what we hope to be present in the future:
ethical community organizing
creating environments that challenge corporate culture
being intentional when selecting artists for inclusion in exhibitions
choosing to build partnerships with other forward-thinking allies
Sometimes it's easy to become distracted or overwhelmed by day to day issues, losing sight of the long-term goals. I remind myself that the pace of change is typically glacial, yet certainly attainable through persistence and endurance.

I will pose a few questions to consider moving forward:

Whose stories are still absent from the conversation?

Are we telling members of our communities what they need and should want
or are we asking others to tell us what they actually need and want?

Vashti DuBois, The Colored Girls Museum (Philadelphia, PA)

Hi. I want to invite you into the Colored Girls Museum.

For those of you who where there, who have visited then you know that the Colored Girls Museum celebrates the ordinary, extraordinary colored girl through the submission of art and artifacts significant to her experience. We celebrate the ordinary colored girl because we like to say Oprah will have a museum- she should. (Shirley Chisholm ) does have a museum, she should Michelle Obama should have a museum. The ordinary colored girl should have a museum. She should have a museum because she’s done so much for so many for so very long, with very little recognition if any at all. She is the most vulnerable among us. And it is our belief that if we celebrate that ordinary colored girl, we actually have the capacity to lift humanity in its entirety. Because those of us who are at the bottom know something not just about what the bottom is like, but we know a whole lot about what the future should look like. We know a whole lot about how to build a world that privileges intentional communities for everybody. Not just for those who can afford it . So when I think about the field, and what I want it to look like, what I need it to look like because I need something new to hope for. I envision a future that is led by that ordinary, extraordinary colored girl . I invite you to try to imagine for yourselves if you have absolutely no idea what i’m talking about. What it would be like if you who are maybe not a colored girl, are NOT at the center of this story that we’ve been telling around the world for years.

Imagine a very different story imagine a future told from the perspective of the most ordinary among us. The most overlooked among us. Imagine the story being told by a colored girl.

Imagine the story being told by one of the four colored girls who didn’t make it out of the 16th street church that Sunday morning, what might this world look like if they had.
What kind of future would those girls Addie Mae Collins 14, Carol Denise McNair 11,
Carole Robertson 14, and Cynthia Wesley 14
What stories would those girls tell
What futures would they imagine for all of us had they lived
What does the field look like you ask
My field, (not because I’m not for everybody) but because I can see a different future from where I stand , and my field looks like her.
Where we are all trying to go in our art work our activism the deepening of our humanity
She the ordinary colored girl has already been) The future of the field looks like an army of ordinary colored girls leading the way .
Thank you.

Kristan Kennedy, PICA (Portland, OR)

If we do our job what will change?

We will abandon the idea of a future and acknowledge round time.
We will embrace the notion that we are connected to the non-temporal world of ideas... and therefore we are already actively engaged in what comes next while carrying forward the best of what was.

Something that I have heard from artists and organizers these last few days... is that our ancestors are speaking to us and through us. This means we are getting clear messages from our family, we know things in our bones, this has been proven! … It also means we must honor those in the field that came before us, our mentors… and those who walk beside us, we must say their names out loud. These are the people we think of when we are asked…”Who helped / helps set the tone and tenor of our ethics, our way of working, our way of taking care of “business” ?

For me it is.Winifred and Tom Kennedy, Len Bellinger, Mary Lum, Joe Scheer, Ted Morgan, Peer Bode, Courtney Fink, Rosie Gordon Walace, Stephanie Snyder, Jeanine Jablonski, Arnold J. Kemp, Sam Korman, Topher Sinkinson, Vic Frey, Erin Boberg-Doughton, Roya Amirsoleymani, T.C. Smith, Jorg Jacoby, Kristy Edmunds. If you have a name...I ask you to shout it out now, for the people in this room have inevitably shaped the art world I want to live and work in. If someone has shaped your way of being I ask you to shout it out right now.

Let's make a great noise!

This chorus of names give us the only tool we need to really do our work - to really change things. To embolden each-other, our audiences, our world to care for artists and for ideas. We know in doing this work that we are caring for the world. Our job is to make visible this culture of care through our projects, texts, institutional or un-stitutional structures.

We must acknowledge time as eternal. Those people we just named are eternal. Our work is not new although we will use this word “new” to tempt the curious to meet us where we already are. The work is being done now and it has been done and it will continue to be done. And in that way - we only have to bring our ideas and ethic forward. To fully embody it. To make it clear.
A question remains... if we are doing this work so well - how can we change - the larger field? ...because there is this one - there is this one...the one we have created here... from our multiple points on the map,ANd there is THAT one that seems way way over there where the others stand... the ones we are connected to by default, or by a history we may not believe in but that we are always complicit in, the ones we distance ourselves from.

I am talking about the field over there we often ignore ( or who we feel ignored by), the field we reject in order to invent, the field we rail against. Our field is made strong through refusal, radicality, humanness, meaning. We know the things that feed THAT field are status, commodity, Curatorial ego, dead ideas and an obsession with singular authorship and power.
Change will come when we are acknowledged as leaders, even when we are still in our infancy rising up, even when we are in our sunset years and settling down. Even as we eschew the concept of someone at the head of things or concepts of ownership or authorship in favor of the collective or collaborative of familial way of being. We have to stop giving THAT field credit.
The field over there are building their exhibitions, initiatives,scholarship, salaries and cultural capital on the backs of OUR work. From the risks we take, from the relationships we build, only to cannonize while we attempt to decannize and decolonize.

If we are doing our job we will push a culture of care into spaces it was previously rejected from.
We will continue to reject professionalization, commodification and the impersonal.
We will continue doing our most radical work.
We will teach others that being profession is about getting personal.
If we are doing our job we will not let us not use this field as a device to justify their hegemony.

Aaron Levy, Slought (Philadelphia, PA)

In the past few weeks, the arts community lost two visionary artists and incredibly decent people, Carolee Schneemann and Agnes Varda, who also profoundly shaped my work and life. As Lisa Stevenson remarks in Life Beside Itself , “As I came to know them, I also came to love them and, in the process, to desire their life.” In considering how we can shape the narrative of our field in the years ahead, and build a brighter and even better future, I thought it would be appropriate to acknowledge and remember these extraordinary women and the lives they led, and their struggles to make the arts a more just and equitable place.

Throughout their years, both Carolee and Agnes brought love and care into all aspects of our lives. Their work, their relationships, and their legacies are defined by an enduring spirit of love. And yet, they both faced resistance every step of the way from the cultural institutions they moved through. The care they gave to individuals and communities was rarely reciprocated by arts institutions. We can all do better in translating and scaling the impulse to care to the institutions we each move through.
Carolee particularly understood what it meant to live a precarious life. Her work profoundly shaped contemporary discourses on the body, sexuality, and gender since the 1960s and she was one of the great artistic pioneers of our time, a true icon. Yet Schneemann was also in the paradoxical position over the course of 30 years of living without fixed income, health insurance, or institutional affiliation. Having lived and practiced without the stability that some take for granted, her life and work always constituted an art of the precarious.

A wide range of artists, activists and thinkers employ this word as a metaphor for our times, as a way to talk about our contingency and vulnerability as human beings in the face of the psychological challenges, socio-economic inequalities, ecological violence, and political evil that oppresses our communities. How is it that so many are vulnerable and precarious today? Why are some born into precariousness and others not? Why do certain lives count more than others? What agency do we have to mitigate the severity of these conditions?

As a community and a field, we need to come together around these urgencies and form new affective and political bonds that do not presume the certainty of life, privilege and security. We need to cherish, love and value one another and work together to create communities and institutions that are more caring and nurturing than those that precede us.

As this convening concludes, I would like to offer a few thoughts and aspirations that I think are as important to our future as they were to those who came before us. They build upon our work at Slought, where for over seventeen years, we have sought to grow an institution that changes the conversation around care, and acknowledges the diverse social and environmental factors affecting health and well-being.
- Let us commit to learning from the knowledge embedded in the lived experiences of our communities
- Let us acknowledge the desire for social control that is often embodied in institutions, and work to decolonize the forms of governance and care that structure the contemporary
- Let us advocate not just for aesthetic or educational opportunities for the communities we serve, but also for financial and other resources, galvanizing public discourse around equitable social policies
- Let us work together across our many differences to contest the normalization of racism, bigotry, and inequality, developing new forms of solidarity and allyship, and elevating stories and histories of the struggle for justice in society
- Let us work together to convey the pain, rupture and dislocation caused by social policies today, and the damage wrought by processes of disinvestment and abandonment
- Let us embrace individual and communal acts of care and the desire for connectedness and creativity in our lives as an essential and ethical way of responding to the violence of neoliberalism and contemporary life
- And finally, let us join together in building a true culture of listening, recognizing the power inherent in listening, in sharing, and in dialogue to rebuild our communities and decolonize our imagination

Thank you.

Conrad Meyers and Willis Meyers, Aggregate Space Gallery (Oakland, CA)

Hello everyone, I am Willis.

And I am Conrad. We want to thank Common Field and all of you awesome organizations facilitating and hosting your brave visions and dreams this weekend.

We believe that artists are change makers, placekeepers, and intellectuals - the thought leaders, the people that push boundaries and scope of what is possible. We co-founded Aggregate Space Gallery in Oakland California in 2011 to ask rigorous and sometimes reckless questions through immaculately displayed video works and immersive installations.

When we do our job, we are creating an Oakland where artists can make and experience art in a safe space with access to production tools and hands-on guidance, creating work that fuels critical dialogue in a time when it is desperately needed. We deal in inspiration and opportunity, helping artists share their wonderment, dream wildly, and relish in unanswered questions.

What needs to change? Most of us here are doing the work without having the funding ahead of time and it's hard to find funders to support what seems to already be built. In the words of one of our mentors, Stephanie Ellis, “You can’t open a trapdoor while standing on it”. Those like us, that are standing in the gap are bootstrapped, holding down 8 different roles in shifting & adapting institutions, struggling to connect our hearts and minds with the skills and resources of individuals who can partner with us to stabilize and pay our staff.

Aggregate Space Gallery has spent 8 years setting real-estate aside for artists to create unparalleled art experiences within a safe and supported art community. In August we will priced out of the only home ASG has ever known, but we already have partnerships and satellite programming lined up for the following 10 months. We are studying numerous possible earned income models for spaces that greatly range in scale so we can remain flexible while we search for our new home. Willis and I are exhausted, but this leap needs to happen for our community.

Artists are visionaries and problem-solvers, capable of the impossible despite our resources. This grit and determination we all share fuels the idea that we can accomplish absolutely anything. Personally, we haven't quit because we haven't found a complete solution for serving Bay Area artists yet.

We will continue to fight for this crucial space. We seek a field where the quality of the work and content of the questions rule over the ability to pay an ever increasing rent in a speculating economy. We believe strongly that the varied perspectives of artists enrich the overarching cultural conversation and we will fight to continue to hold this space.

We want to end our segment by paraphrasing ASG’s collaborator and dance artist Jessie Hewit, “Thankfully, artists have always been futurists. I would say that we have never been quite safe in this world and we wouldn’t have it any other way. We’re built for just this. Relentlessly looking across the room at the knowledge of others, and confidently rooted in an understanding that our life-giving friction is indeed our most brilliant function.”

In short, artists are capable of anything, but that doesn’t mean we have to do it alone. So, thank you Common Field.

Jessica Moss, The Roll Up CLT (Charlotte NC)

If we do our job, what needs to change?
What would/should the field look like?

I don't have the answers. But when devising solutions to challenges, I try to look to the past and reflect on the paths of my ancestors.

Frantz Fanon
Bio: French/West Indian Philosopher, Psychiatrist + Revolutionary + Writer
Of the Wretched earth - 1961
Black Skin, White Mask - 1952

1) Alludes to the idea that the militant who faces the colonialist war machine w/ the bare minimum of arms realizes that while he is breaking down colonial- oppressions he is building up yet another system of exploitation.

2) He warns that the revolutionary should not ‘place their future in the hands of the living God!

3) Revolution is not about Black police or politicians but rather setting the shit on FIRE!

4) Description of the process of colonized revolution as “MAN RECREATING HIMSELF” allowing to a sense of “physical, mental + metaphysical freedom”

5) Suggest that this act frees the native from his inferiority complex, despair + inaction, it makes him fearless + restores his self respect, allowing for the freedom to recreate themselves to the ways we were before colonialism

6) This “Cleaning force’ is seen as a cure.

We have to stop being round pegs attempting to fit in square holes. We must build new systems, new ways of doing things and new schools of thought that cater to us and our own ideas.

I bought my first piece of property in 2008 because it was cheaper for me to pay a mortgage than to live on campus as a student. That seed was planted, watered and has now grown to become a project that I call, The Roll Up.

Today, The Roll Up CLT is a community redevelopment project in Charlotte NC, with a sister site in Pittsburgh, PA, that supports artists with a $15-30,000 stipend to both work in and become part of vulnerable neighborhoods. Residents engage in public dialogues and collaborate with locals on their new bodies of work.

Let's set shit on fire and create our own narratives.

S. Rodriguez, Paraspace Books (Houston, TX)

Paraspace Books does everything from sell sci-fi books to host lectures and workshops to screening films. We implement sci-fi strategies as a way of imagining new ways of how the world can work.

More than accommodation and inclusion, we need to think past tradition, and current boundaries. Generally, the focus lies in correcting the past, rather than expanding the idea of what an inclusive event or happening might look like.

What does it look like to have an entire lecture in ASL with a verbal interpreter for hearing folks? What does it look like to think past pronouns, and exclude any kind of gendered language? Beyond putting yourself in someone’s shoes, those in positions of privilege must give up power and influence.

In order to grow, we have to try to put ourselves into a space of radical inaccessibility. What does the world look like when it’s not made for you?"

Ekrem Serdar, Squeaky Wheel (Buffalo, NY)

3 notes

We have a residency program. It’s open to artists and researchers (read: curators, scholars, instructors, admins) who are working on media arts projects. We pay. Ask me about it.

I’ve been talking a lot about codes of conduct, how to construct them to create more intentional spaces for present and future staff, board, artists, students. I got a google drive. I want to hear from you and talk to you about it.

I find great strength from being amongst you all and the inspiring work you all do. I know so many in this room are so exhausted. If, you are a cause of exhaustion, find help, fix it. Keep fixing it, until you become a burden. Then quit, and help the next person. There are ways to set up care for the impossible future we need.
I’d like to give the rest of my time to have some silence, so we can have a breath in this time where we can trace our necessary networks.

Christina Vassallo, SPACES (Cleveland, OH)


· Our action- and solution-oriented work will be replicated by, altered for, and incorporated into other fields
· Our work will be valued in the same way that museums, or even sports, are valued
· Funders will come to us and ask, “what do you need?”
· We address the problematic nature—in whatever form that takes—of what we do, because while we are providing free access to art and culture, we are still responsible for raising our neighbors’ taxes and rents, or taking up parking spaces, or not entirely representing our community’s interests…or not even resembling our community…or replicating exploitative forms of labor, or failing to provide an essential service as widely as necessary
· We will honor our founders but make room for new people who will challenge, evolve, and refresh their, our, my ideas
· We will not only amplify the voices in our clearly defined echo chambers, but we will have the courage to speak—through our programming—to those whose ideologies are at odds with our own
· Everyone who makes decisions about our projects, initiatives, programs, or organizations will knowingly and intentionally serve as a steward of its conscience
· The process will be the paramount aspect of cultural production
· We might actually have time to step away for a minute

Mary Welcome, Cabin-Time, Camp Little Hope, M12 Studio, Art of the Rural (Itinerant)
Rural Cultural Worker
Palouse, Washington/Idaho (pop. 1000)

I choose to make my work in a necessarily non-metro context. Rural America is a web of
thousands of communities and landscapes that are as different from one another as our urban
centers are. There is not one kind of rural, just as there is not one kind of city. Personal
geography is, dare I say, a spectrum.

Rural places tend buck the monoculture of a “scene” and engage in complicated,
intergenerational, imperatively collaborative community strategies for survival.

If I do my job, I can model a life where a person can choose and stay in the landscape they call
home. If I do my job, we learn to see the culture of places as they are, we learn to tell the hard
histories, we learn to be conscientious in our visions of the future. If I do my job, home is an
action and neighbor is a verb.

I want a field of eccentric, rather than concentric circles. I want centrifugal motion with a
centripetal impulse, a lasso that is an infinite loop and something that holds us all together.
We need campaigns of visibility, we need to teach eachother how to see one another. We
need to practice at looking further and looking farther, and looking like we mean it. We all
have the ability to act as both lighthouse and lightning rod for the places we care about.
The future of the field is a looking glass, a space for reflection, a way to see ourselves and
others more clearly.

The future of the field denies neither paradox nor pre-existing conditions. We are multicentered
and we bring the edgelands in. We engage in simultaneity. We honor our places with
patience and promise. We build a culture of care and criticality. We understand geography as
diversity, sometimes a choice, and sometimes a privilege. We learn to be neighbors, no
matter the miles.

My field is a slash pile, a prairie burn, a snow fence, a border town, a stretch of highway
without cell phone service, a potluck, a church picnic, a landline, and my neighbor’s front
porch. Our field ought to be a line of sight, a willingness to give and to grow, to share and
stand up and sit beside and rise up with.

The future of the field is a strong yield, a healthy harvest, a meal that feeds us each in turn. A
fellowship that provides for the next day’s hard work

Nicholas Wylie, Public Media Institute (Chicago, IL)

Ok I have to be the last to speak, this is scary.

So: I was pretty sure that I would find the one big thing that hadn’t been talked about all weekend, that I was going to helpfully reveal that one we’ve all been ignoring, right? Like: here’s the big bombshell of an emergency and we all need to pay attention to it! But so much has been intentionally covered that every time I thought I found a that incisive topic, some panel excellently addressed it.

Instead, I’m going to highlight something I to a friend, Willy Smart whom I stayed with in Pittsburgh on my way here, from Chicago. I told them that I was worried we’d do a lot of hand wringing at this conference. And.. we did.

I don't know if anybody maybe is already doing it on their own right now in their pew (makes hand wringing gesture) but I'd like to invite everyone to just join me in wringing your hands, like this.

As we all start to think about going back home to the grant that’s due on May Day, and all the labor that's ahead, I'd like you like worry about we didn’t figure out here, or like what we did identify that we need to solve, and what that worry is actually good for, what it drives. I’m actually glad that we took the time to do a lot of hand wringing together at this conference.

Then i'd also invite you to, if you're ready and brave enough, to start wringing the hands of the people next to you.

There are things to wring our hands about. While you’re wringing each others hands, and thinking about the fact that are things to worry about together, I want to relay something from my colleague who couldn’t make it, Marina Resende Santos. She’s from Brazil and helped me with the Brazilian resistance's badly translated response to Bolsonaro’s terrifying regime, which is “no one let go of each others hand.”

Right? Like there are a bunch of people in like real need and precarity and danger that we, in holding each other’s hands, can work to protect, whose hands we can not let go of. Together there is so much desire for shared leadership in this room; there is so much leadership and power in this room. And there is a lot of responsibility in that sense . "Distributed leadership"... ( breaks off, laugh/sigh) ... on that topic I just want to invoke the words that Adrienne Maree Brown is so generous in conveying: “trust peeople and they become trustworthy; distrust people and they become untrustworthy.”

I have so many other people's words that I was was hoping to relay, but in with the time left, in closing, I’m gonna read this one thing that is a collectively generated document after Renny Pritikin’s “Prescription for a Healthy Art Scene@ and I’ll just do it until the piano plays. It’s the collaboratively-written “” and might be useful for you, it has been for me. Lisa Martin initiated it. I’ll just read it until the music plays me off. Here goes...” (music plays)

(email for the Prescription for a Healthy Arts Org open source google document)