AC Discussion | Irony, Wonder, Allusion: Evaluating Social Practice

 

On September 27th, Annika Johnson, Diana Martinez, and Alajia McKizia joined Jared Packard to consider how critical and evaluative frameworks might change to more fully embrace the uncertainties, indecipherable rewards, and generative failures inherent in socially and politically engaged work.

Listen to a recording or read through the transcript of the conversation below, and share your thoughts in the comments section.


From left to right: Jared Packard, Alajia McKizia, Annika Johnson, and Diana Martinez


Title of Discussion: Irony, Wonder, Allusion: Evaluating Social Practice

Panelist 1: Annika Johnson

Panelist 2: Diana Martinez

Panelist 3: Alajia McKizia

Moderator: Jared Packard

Date of Discussion: September 27th, 2023

List of Acronyms: [AJ] = Annika Johnson; [DM] = Diana Martinez; [AM] = Alajia McKizia; [JP] = Jared Packard; [PF] = Peter Fankhauser

 

Transcript

 

[PF] Welcome everybody. I think we're gonna go ahead and get started. My name is Peter and we're really excited to have you all here tonight for our Alternate Currents panel discussion, Irony, Wonder and Allusion: Evaluating Social Practice with our terrific panelists Diana Martinez, Annika Johnson, Alajia McKizia and our moderator, Jared Packard


For those of you who are new to Amplify, we are a nonprofit arts incubator for more just and equitable futures. We offer funding, space, and opportunities for collective learning to Omaha area artists. Alternate Currents is one of our cornerstone programs that supports artists and organizers working to challenge dominant systems, forge collaborations, and engage with their communities. An alternative to a conventional MFA, AC cohort members work together to understand how justice in the arts is interpreted, documented, and enacted. So, thank you all again for being here and I’ll turn it over to Jared.


[JP] Hi, I'm Jared Packard. I'm excited to be here today and shout out to Amplify for consistently bringing us conversations at the forefront of contemporary art discourse thoughtfully and sensitively. I'm also excited because I've worked with all three of these powerhouse women in one capacity or another and admire the work they do locally and beyond. Before jumping in, I'll let each of you introduce yourselves and share whatever feels relevant to today's conversation.


[AM] My name is Alajia McKizia. I'm a multidisciplinary artist. I also work as a program coordinator at the Kiewit Luminarium. I work with mixed media, performance, and now people might know me best for some of my public facing work. I do a lot of community organizing and event curation. Sunday Soul is one project that might come up a lot in this conversation. Juneteenth Joy Fest is an annual festival I also put on.


[AJ] Thank you for inviting me to be here. It's a pleasure to have this discussion with all of you. I'm Annika Johnson. I curate the Native American art collection at Joslyn Art Museum. I do a lot of things in that capacity. The main one that I'll talk about tonight is building a program for Native American art. We haven't had a curator in that position before at the museum. I've been there for about four years, and I am learning a lot about how long it takes to engage communities and how long it takes to make institutional change.


[DM] Hi, everyone. My name is Diana Martinez. I have lived in Omaha for about seven years. I'm originally from Southern California. My focus area is Film and Media Studies. I was at Film Streams for six years and then most recently at the Union for Contemporary Art. Soon I'll be moving on to another position at the Weitz Family Foundation. So, I have some experience putting together arts programs, working in different kinds of arts environments, visual arts, and film. I also have experience on the grantmaking and awarding side and have seen a lot of different kinds of socially engaged work come through the doors for grants and collaborations for the years.


[JP] Beautiful. Thank you. We are in the midst of my queer childhood nightmare as we try to talk about art and are being yelled at by sports over the corner. So we'll just speak up and hope that you all can hear us. 


I'm particularly invested in today's conversation because well, politically engaged art is a more recent development in art historical terms. We have really formal and precise language to talk about painting, sculpture, and architecture. Language around the efficacy and impact of politically and socially against work is still being formed. I run a series of conversations at the Bemis Center called Public Assembly and earlier this summer, we had a great conversation around the recent anti-trans anti-abortion legislation as it related to the work on view in our galleries. It was a really rich, dynamic conversation attended by 15 people and everyone made thoughtful contributions. But I walked away and thought from an administrative perspective, what's the return on investment? How do we quantify that when a lot of funders will look at a program attended by 15 people and wonder if their investment is worth it? So, I'm entering this conversation with a lot of questions too, and I’m eager to ask how you all are thinking through this. To kick things off, can you talk about a specific project and how you thought through evaluating its impact?


[AJ] Well, first, I'm going to say that socially engaged art is intrinsic to my field. I work primarily with historic Native American art, objects made before 1900. We have about 2000 artworks in Joslyn's collection. 1500 of those are made by artists whose names we don't know. So, when I think about working with that collection, making it publicly available, and making it available to Native communities, I really have to consider the historic practices around those cultural belongings that have always been socially engaged. The regalia I work with, ceremonial objects, dolls, things, all these objects are made for as part of a cultural lineage and there's always been a community aspect to the work artists were making historically. My challenge is, I don't know who those artists are. So, I work with communities in the present day, to figure out how to activate those collections. And I think about that exact same thing, Jared. We're investing a lot of staff time and a lot of resources to reorient the way we think about collections at the museum, because here's an example: a lot of people who come in and see something in the collection used for ceremony will request to smudge or burn sage beforehand. We can't do that inside the museum building. So that's raised a host of questions about what is an integral part of collections care. As a curator, I make sure that the collections are cared for and work to understand what care means in this context. What does care mean when somebody's coming in who is a descendant of an artist that's represented in the collection? Do they feel like they have the space and they're the support to engage with the collection in the ways that they need to? 


I've had to step back from big picture thinking to consider those intimate moments when families come in to see the collection. There are moments where I just step aside and they interact with the objects in the collection in a way that authentically reflects their cultural traditions and heritage. From an evaluative perspective, that’s what I take away. Did they have a good experience? For granting, that makes things kind of hard because so much happens behind the scenes when you're in a museum. From a funder’s view, everything should have a public facing component and in my work, it just doesn't.


[JP] I appreciate that reframe. My introduction really centered a Western European studio based practice. So when I say politically or socially engaged work, in that context, we really only think about the last 70 years, or so. Thank you for that.


[DM] To your point, I think that's the point of view with which I come to thinking about socially engaged art practices where there is an art object that galvanizes people. I think about the way different organizations in town have done really powerful community collaborations that, for me, have been the central point of what I found impactful more than the object itself. I'm thinking of what Opera Omaha did around the Malcolm X opera and worked with Joanna LeFlore and the Malcolm X Foundation and all of those conversations. They were able to activate community through a historical lens and the context of jazz and be perfectly transparent. I led the final conversation around the opera and they let us talk about whatever we wanted to talk about. We were able to be critical about what it means to lionize them historical figures, what do we leave out in that process, and those kinds of conversations are really important, potentially even more so than the opera itself, which, according to the panel, was reductive in some areas. So I think that for me, potentially even more than the art object itself, the people and the organizations that are creating community around art, is where I find kind of the most potential for impact.


[AM] I can speak to two projects: Sunday Soul and Juneteenth Joy Fest. Sunday Soul is a series that celebrates BIPOC women in poetry, dance, or music performance. I think about what bringing community together looks like. A lot of my socially engaged work is about being in space together rather than presenting. My practice really focuses on supporting and honoring artists, specifically local artists, and majority Black and Brown artists. I think we deserve quality experiences that honor the culture here in Omaha. I have put together events where 150 people came, and that feels really good. I don't know, necessarily, if the purpose of those events as an example of what it means to have a cultural staple in Omaha always gets across to people. Sometimes I wonder, because they’re mostly free events, how people value those experiences? And that's similar to Juneteenth Joy Fest. How do people value these experiences that they don't have to pay for because we associate a lot of value with money? I sometimes don't know if people are coming because they want to experience the program, or if they're coming because it’s free.


[JP] That's a good question. In all three of your responses, there's an element of institutional opposition, whether that's pushing against white supremacist thinking, or the physical building that houses the institution being unable to accommodate traditional practices. I'm curious how you have each navigated some of those institutional measures and constraints in order to realize work they’re not built to support.


[AM] I can speak to that and share more about Juneteenth Joy Fest, which is an annual festival honoring Black arts and culture and in North Omaha on 24th Street. I partner with Fabric Lab, we've had three events so far, and it grows every year. And I'm super grateful. And I do identify it as successful. I think institutionally, the thing that I have an issue with is funders. And I'm grateful to them because, since it is a public facing free event, I depend on fundraising dollars from foundations and individual donors to make it happen. Though sometimes it feels like convincing them of the importance of the event is an uphill battle. I think there is a deep meaning in celebrating Black heritage. It's celebrating our history, but at the same time, it really is about convening in North Omaha and people having an opportunity to play and feel joy collectively. There are other Juneteenth celebrations that happen in Omaha. I've gotten responses from funders who are hesitant because of that. But the Black experience is not monolithic. Black celebration is not monolithic. And just because other people are doing things around the city, it doesn't take away from what we're doing. Both can exist and I collaborate with other people who are doing Juneteenth celebrations. That funding piece is something I've struggled with.


[DM] You know, as a film scholar, before I say what I say, I deeply care about film as artform. I have invested over a decade of my life in it, but working at an arts organization, at a film nonprofit, one of the things that I was frustrated by is this demand on people of color in film to be community touch points. White filmmakers are seen as being devoid of that politics. No one's asking them to make political work. I kept thinking about that when I was working at the Union because that is a space where they're working to cultivate socially engaged artists. But we also have to ask, who are the people who are going to be doing this work? Why isn’t there a residency just for artists of color to do and dream whatever they want? Why do programs geared towards our artists of color always have to manifest in some kind of community project? That is frustrating to me. It's like people of color can't make art just for the sake of making art, which I think is actually really powerful. I worry about people evaluating the impact of art because what “impact” really means in that context is economic and financial impact. How much staff time was involved? How many people showed up? Was it worth it?


[AJ] I feel like these points are all related. When working within an institution, I think my biggest challenge is I'm an individual. I have my own passions and agenda and personal relationships. When you do work with community you’re interfacing with people, talking to people, setting up the meetings, going to the meetings. But I also represent an organization with a lot of incredible staff who are dedicated to their work. Even so, I’m still working under this umbrella of the museum with a capital ‘M’. Having a community engaged curatorial practice, I'm constantly navigating that dynamic of, here is Annika the person, here is Annika the curator, here is Annika the curator who's representing this institution and therefore speaking on its behalf. And I don't have a solution for that, but I do try and flip it in my head and think about myself as an intermediary or a facilitator who listens to both sides and figures out how we can make cool projects happen. And a lot of the individuals I work with are leading nonprofits, teachers, or community leaders who deal with the pressure of combating the perception that they represent every Native person. I think the only way forward is to have open conversations about what I am interested in as a person, what people in our Native communities want to see at the museum, and what’s possible for the institution. I can tell someone I love this idea, I really want to push for it, but here's where I can see that there might be some problems. And then we figure out how to work together. 


[JP] I'm also thinking about just how swift capitalism is as a force in commodifying. I'm curious to dwell a bit and delve deeper into how you navigate some of these institutional pressures that come with funding. How do you make a case to funders that some endeavors are worth funding, even if there isn't an easily measurable economic outcome?


[AJ] I feel like the most interesting and most engaging moments I've had in the museum haven't involved a grant or any sort of funding. Sometimes magic happens when people feel welcome to come to the museum, have a conversation, and look at art together. There doesn't always need to be an elaborate grant to build experiences like that into the work. I do try to think judiciously about how grant funding is spent. The bigger the grant an institution handles, the more of that grant money is spent supporting managing the grant money. Part of me is scaling down in a way, and not focusing so much on presentation, or some big deliverable. I’d rather spend time facilitating more informal interactions with the collection. Justifying that is really difficult. But I've worked with some great donors and foundations, where people get excited about the same things I get excited about. And sometimes you can also bring them along on that journey.


[DM] I’ve interacted with a lot of artists on the advisory side. One thing that comes up often is artists trying to fit themselves into a political box of like. They feel as though their work has to do these things with urgency, and it feels inauthentic. And I think it's the job of organizations that are given grants, that are working with artists, to help them authentically find the things that they are interested in so that they can work with those communities in a way that's not exploitative. And in a way that is genuine. That's one thing that I think is really important. 


We recently had feedback sessions for a new round of Fellowship applications the Union is amidst right now. One of the artists who wanted to apply was asking about potential community service projects they could do. They were going to make this campaign for this organization about this subject that they’re passionate about. And I was like, “You should be paid for that. That shouldn't be volunteer hours. That is a marketing person's job. You're giving them free labor.” I think that's the other part of socially engaged art practices that people rarely think about. People's time should be compensated. Artists are worth something. They're worth something when they do those things. 


[JP] Yeah, I can't. Cultural labor is trivialized as a passion project so quickly. 


[DM] Or the passion to do good, to help others is exploited by institutions and organizations as free labor.


[AM] It's been tricky and honestly, a big worry of mine specifically with Juneteenth Joy Fest. The first year I started that project, it was mostly community funded. I got a lot of money from people out in the community. And then the past few years, there's been a bigger fundraising effort, but I've always been walking this line of how to protect the work while building relationships with funders. Since it's a culturally important holiday in Black culture, I want to hold that really closely. I feel really protective of it. I always try to leverage my outputs to justify the things that we're doing and where the money is going. For the second annual Juneteenth Joy Fest, which was last year, I was able to give $18,000 back to the local Black economy. This year, that amount will be upwards of $25,000. I've been really protective about the visibility, via the marketing and the poster and everything. I don't ever want it to become super logo oriented or branded by the people who are funding it. Because it's supposed to be a celebration of culture, and I don't want to have to have to sell that, especially as Juneteenth becomes a more commercial holiday in America. 


[JP] That's amazing. 


[DM] I want to commend Alajia. A lot of artists don't realize that marketing is negotiable. A funder's name doesn't have to go on everything. Not all organizations have a donor wall. So, know who you're working with, but also know that as an artist, you have the power to negotiate these things and not compromise your vision.


[JP] A lot of artists feel disempowered and don’t know how far they can push institutions. Annika, your comment earlier about other people getting excited by your excitement, reminded me that authenticity is really important when navigating the world of funders and institutions. All three of you have shared that arts administrators or culture workers can advocate on behalf of artists and their labor. Can you talk more about that dynamic?


[AJ] I'm in the middle of a project right now. We're working with an amazing artist named Henry Payer Jr. He makes collage that uses ribbon work applique designs, so floral designs that are traditional to his community. He's Ho-Chunk. We invited him to create an installation in the museum. Our Native Advisory Committee worked to select him. We've had a lot of back and forth, because this project is new for him. He’s doing something that's really scaled up. We’ve spent a lot of time in the gallery itself, and talked about how much weight the ceiling will hold and what the lights can do, and what the space is capable of. I think that translates to my role as a curator too. We’ve talked about what I'm capable of, and what the institution is capable of. So, part of it is encouraging artists to dream and think big, but the other part is being transparent about exactly what our budget is so we're all on the same page. If we see costs creeping up, then it's my job to find more money. Having those open conversations is so important. And so is encouraging exploration, given the budget and physical parameters of the space.


[AM] Growing up in Omaha and luckily, being a part of this art community, I’ve been able to see some of its failures. I feel like that’s why I've always held artist equity really close to my heart. It's really at the forefront of all the work I do. I try to show up really well in welcoming artists and paying artists well is important to me. I feel like so much, especially in Omaha with the amount of philanthropic dollars that go around to organizations, that the amount of times I've been asked to do things for free and that other artists have been asked to do things for free is actually offensive. I feel like they tried to frame it as compensation by way of exposure. That angers me deeply inside. So, I've worked really hard to put that at the forefront of my budgets. Most of my budget for the projects I organize is allocated to pay artists. I'm really proud of that and over the past two years we've had people perform with bands for the first time. We’ve been able to provide documentation of performances for artists to use in their own professional development.


During Sunday Soul, we've honored Black femme changemakers. We’ve honored Bell Hooks, we’ve honored Nina Simone, and Coretta Scott King. I commissioned three different artists to create work for those events. So had a poet, I had a violinist and I had a dancer. And when I'm asking artists to do things for me, I try to hold the idea of working collaboratively close. How can the artists I’m working with hold it in their hands and have more authority over the project? I feel like a lot of my work is rooted in affirmation that helps artists feel confident and loved. I want them to feel the importance of their work and be held in that space of preciousness.


[JP] That's beautiful. Thank you for naming that. I think that’s at the heart of why arts administrators work with artists and it can get lost in institutional professionalization. So, thank you for stating it so clearly and perfectly. I'm also curious about to hear your thoughts or reflections on experiences that you’ve had as participants or audiences, witnessing socially engaged or political work. Is there an effective way of capturing audience experience beyond how many people showed up? I've had some great, fulfilling one-on-one conversations after experiencing socially and politically engaged work. They were personally gratifying but I wonder what you all think about a more holistic approach to evaluating that kind of work.


[AJ] I think in terms of valuation, especially if you're working with community, that’s something that has to be co-determined and on a project by project basis. We can impose our museum metrics with surveys or questionnaires about what people learned or how long they spent with the work. But I think it might look different for every project. And I think it's up to the participants, especially if it's a project where you're working consistently, with a group of people. And it can shift, depending on the project.


[DM] Unfortunately, film is crass. We use Box Office sales. But there is also power in anecdotal data when people share their experience of the work in one-on-one conversations, that actually is evidence of impact. Write that down. Ask them to email it to you. Get documentation of it. I remember, there was one film, and I don't actually remember the title of it, that maybe thirty people saw during its one week run. But out of those thirty people, ten came up to me and were like, that was the weirdest shit I've ever seen. I didn't like it. And they were upset by it. And I was like, that was a good film. It was impactful. A third of the people who saw it had to somehow find me and tell me that they thought it was weird and that they thought about it for days and days afterwards. You can have quantifiable evaluation metrics and robust evaluative methodologies but anecdotes matter. I think for funders who are exercising trust based philanthropy, those are the things that will make them feel like it was a success. There's always a way to spin everything, even in failure. That is the film PR person in me. Just spin the shit out of it.


[AM] Since Sunday Soul is a recurring series, I feel like I've been able to evaluate its success by looking at whether people came to the second part or the third part. I am so grateful that I've been able to bring artists from different places through Sunday Soul and Juneteenth Joy Fest. That’s another measure of success. I look at whether people in the audience start following or supporting the artists who are performing. I've also had to think about how I hold the experience myself. How do I carry it? How do I feel my successes and my failures? And one thing, going back to audience real quick, that I want to measure and understand is how do people at Sunday Soul feel welcomed. It's a slower pace. It's peaceful and there’s less operationally I have to do. It's more creative. Juneteenth Joyfest is much more operationally intense and I feel like because of that, the welcoming part isn't where I want it to be. People might have a good experience, but when they first show up, how are they welcomed? And sometimes I feel like I've missed the mark. This past year, I had to think more about my own internal evaluation methods and realize this is a beautiful event, and people are experiencing joy. Because I get really stressed out and because it’s so much work, it's easy to forget that. I'm trying to think intentionally about the next year and how I personally value the experience of organizing. How am I feeling the joy of the experience? And how can I manage my stress and manage my workload so that I can actually enjoy it too.


[JP] That's a whole other panel discussion. There's something beautifully messy and human about the fact that we can't quite name what it is to evaluate socially and politically engaged work. That's why I'm not a mathematician or an engineer. I work in the cultural sector because there's never a perfect answer or one right way. There's always going to be a messy, uncomfortable dance to figure out what success really looks like. With that in mind, I'm curious what is coming up for all of y'all in the audience if you have questions for us. Yeah,


[JP] Thank you for your questions. Sandy, did everyone hear that? I just want to make sure that your voice was heard by everybody because there is some noise happening back here? Is it okay, if I reiterate your question, Sandy asked, How do you get through a moment of doubt? How do you move forward, when things feel like they’re falling apart? 


[AM] My art practice to me feels very personal, but also holds my ancestors and my ancestral lineage very close to me. A lot of what I do is rooted in this intuitive guidance. When I first started Juneteenth Joy Fest, there was an empty lot next door to my house in North Omaha. I started it because I was sitting outside and something kept telling me that they just wanted the land to be activated and to feel something different. So, if I'm feeling self doubt, I get through it with help from others. And sometimes you have to just feel it. I felt a ton of self doubt organizing Juneteenth Joy Fest this year. It was also the most money I've ever raised for it. I think it's an acceptance. And you work to know yourself and be resilient, so you can move forward regardless of the obstacles that arise. We can get really rigid in wanting things to be a certain way. That’s when self doubt pounces. I try to think about how I can move more like water or the wind when these projects change. 


I also feel like there's always something moving me forward. It’s my lineage and my position living as a Black person in America. I reference this a lot, because I realize it's the reason I make art. My grandma grew up on a plantation in Arkansas. I think about that. I'm just two generations down and I have all this opportunity to do these things. What I'm doing right now is something that maybe my great, great grandma wanted to do and didn't have the opportunity. Knowing that in that context helps me move forward. People worked so hard and sacrificed so much for me to even exist here. And for me to have the opportunity to heal generational trauma in that way is really important. 


[DM] I need to quote Denise Chapman, who's the Artistic Director of the theater at the Union. Last week, we were sitting in Fellowship sessions together, and she had to tell a lot of people, no one needs to give you permission to do your art. And that's and that's the thing. There was an artist who was interested in making a project about queer history, and they asked, what if I do all of this and then people don't like it? They were worried about the possibility of alienating their community. So, when you’re having doubts, go down the checklist. Are you keeping in your values? Are you making sure that you're not doing harm? Are you doing this to the best of your ability? And that’s it. If you become a repository for other people's compliments, you also have to become a repository for the bad things that people say about you. At some point, you have to develop a level of critical distance. 


[JP] I'm thinking through this question and I want to be cautious of perpetuating or glamourising the notion of the tortured artist who needs to undergo trauma to be creative. I don't believe that's true, but I'm also thinking about some of the forces that have shaped my own creative practice. Some of those forces were challenging and hard and have helped gain confidence in my work. It's cute for me to be like, those lessons build character but I think there is some underpinning of truth there. You learn a lot about yourself in moments of doubt.


Another question from the audience: How does development in Omaha and the built environment shape the type of work you’ve been discussing?


[AJ] I can share a little anecdote. The Joslyn Art museum where I work is closed right now. We're building a new building. If you’ve driven past, you’ve probably seen it. It's happening. The architects on that project came in and did a review of where we're at as an institution. They asked staff a lot of questions and worked with the general public to understand how people perceive the building. And it seems like an overly simplified solution, but I was fascinated by one of their first recommendations, which was to cut down this wall that runs along Dodge St. in front of the sidewalk. The architects pointed out that if you're on the sidewalk, your view is literally blocked by this wall and it emphasizes the fact that the museum is high up on a hill. If you cut this down, it might be a little bit more welcoming. It was so interesting and also not on my mind at all, because I park in the parking lot and go in the staff entrance. There is something to say for the grounds around an institution because there is such a legacy attached to “the museum on a hill”. People need to be welcomed before they even go in the doors. It's not my job at the museum at all but it was cool to hear that.


[AM] That's an interesting question. Juneteenth Joy Fest happens outside. I'm lucky to work with people who do a lot of work to protect North Omaha and its integrity with gentrification creeping in. I think that, through these projects, we’ve been able to focus on how we can bring the community together in a beautiful way that honors this space. I also think about how sustainable it is moving forward. Right now, even the house I live in, I don't know if I can live there past the lease term. It's a bigger conversation about who owns my house and who owns most of the housing and most of the land in North Omaha. I’m navigating how to have ownership in this space where I'm working so hard to build the culture when culture and gentrification go hand in hand. I am doing this work, and I'm so grateful, but I wonder how I can have a stake in the physical space to protect the work I’ve put in.



[DM] That's a really interesting question. Film Streams, where I worked, has two locations: the Ruth Sokolof Theater downtown and Dundee Theater right off Dodge. When I moved here, I I noticed board members and other patrons would see a movie at Dundee, but going downtown was too far away. It's literally a seven minute drive. I timed it several times. But the way the city is divided has as much to do with neighborhood identity as geography. 


We would often have issues with distributors because they wouldn’t place films in close proximity to one another. When they saw that something was playing at Aksarben, they would move that movie to Film Streams’ downtown location because Dundee and Arksarben are too close together. And we'd have to explain that those are entirely different parts of the city even though they are close geographically. We can safely play that movie at Dundee that’s also showing at Aksarben and it will make money. Explaining that to people outside of the city though, created a lot of logistical issues for us in film distribution. Because when you're working with people who know LA really intimately and what all those different pockets represent, even though we're not very far away from the historically Black neighborhoods in Omaha, the audience is very white and homogenous. Some films actually do better at a centrally located theater that people can walk to with their families right by a bus stop. 


I actually started at film streams as the Education Director. And having to learn what all the different high schools signify in the city and what it means to discuss Ava DuVernay’s 13th when you have Creighton Prep kids in the same room as students from South High. That can create really powerful experiences, but they're only powerful if you understand the dynamics that exist in this city. So for me, the layout of the city really impacted the audiences and the way I had to show up when I was teaching. And I also had to give people working in New York a crash course in Omaha gentrification and redlining because they didn't understand that like something seven minutes away, is actually eons and eons away. 


[JP] One more question: is Omaha a good place to do this work? And if so, why? 


[DM] I am passionate about artists not moving to New York or LA. I like being from LA. I know how hard it is to live there and how expensive it is. Why would you put yourself in that financial situation? It’s a question I completely understand. It's beautiful there and there are all these opportunities, but to be honest, it's also more competitive. How will you stand out amongst all of those people? The barrier for entry is so much higher. And the thing that I've always been struck by living in Omaha, which is a good thing, but also a very strange thing, is how easy it is to be in a room with influential people. My first week here, I met billionaires, and I was like, that's weird. It's easier to do things here to make an impact really quickly. But unfortunately, I don't know if the resources are here. I don't think that there is a political climate here that makes young people want to stay and have the liberties that they want to have over their bodies, their agency. That's so frustrating to me. I hear politicians talk about brain drain without addressing how their policies are creating that. That said, people should stay. I think Omaha needs that energy so much more than other cities with really saturated artist communities.



[AJ] I agree. There's so much opportunity here, and there's such a closeness in the arts community. I’m a curator and a trained art historian. When I was applying for jobs, I was living in DC, and a lot of my fellow graduate PhDs asked if I was looking for jobs in New York or LA. There's very much a sense that in the art world, capital, “A” art world, that Omaha is kind of nowhere, which is surprising to me. And it's surprising for my field because Native Art collection includes work that's primarily made in this region, the Great Plains region. We have this collection through which we want to connect with communities. From Omaha, you can drive to the Omaha Reservation, which is an hour and a half north. You can drive to Pine Ridge, which is relatively close. So for this collection, Omaha is perfect. This is exactly where I need to be for my work because I’m close to communities connected with the collection. I'm a mostly optimistic person. I feel like there's so many great arts workers here. And because our city is small, relatively, when you compare it to LA or New York, you can try new things and be a little bit more experimental. You can be a little bit more nimble even working within a larger institution.


[AM] It's so interesting. I can build on what you said Diana, about Omaha not being a great place to live for young people because of the political climate. I've really gone back and forth and thought if I wasn't doing projects in Omaha, this wouldn't be the place I’d want to live. But I also feel deeply rooted here. Maybe that’s because I'm from here, and my family. I don’t feel stuck, but rooted to continue this work here. I think Omaha, despite what people say about it, is a beautiful place to dream and experiment. Since the cost of living is relatively low compared to other places, it's easier to actualize a project. And I hope to expand what I'm doing to other cities to build a bridge between Omaha and other places. That is really powerful. I love bringing in artists here because Omaha is kind of a mystery. But it also has a diverse and deep cultural history. I want to do more of that work and really build a foundation as Omaha develops and new spaces open.


[JP] You all are really wonderful. Let’s end the conversation with any parting thoughts and meditations on the title of this panel, Irony, Wonder, Allusion.


[AJ] I focus on the irony too much sometimes. There’s a lot of wonder in curatorial work too. I'm going to connect with that. 


[AM] I also connect to wonder. I also think I connect to talk about my work as socially engaged was hard for me until I could self-define it. And that’s affirming to be able to talk about what I’m doing in that context as something that's changing culture. 


[DM] The allusion part speaks to me putting everything we just talked about together and all of the different projects that are happening in Omaha and finding continuity with things that are happening in other cities. People marvel at what's happening in New York and LA, but it's not  separate. Artists are influenced by one another and allude to one another in their work. You don't need to live in those cities to feel the power of that and to feel the power of being part of a creative community.


[JP] For me, the title captures the irony of the present, the wonder of the future, and an allusion to the past. And the generative possibilities for meaningful socially engaged work they hold together, even if we can't evaluate its impact in the most precise, quantifiable ways. It gives us the ability to envision alternatives to our present and create new futures. And you all have celebrated that, so thank you. We'll end it there. Thank you all for joining us.


*This transcript has been edited for length and clarity.


About the Panelists:

Annika Johnson is Associate Curator of Native American Art at the Joslyn Art Museum where she is developing installations, programming, and research initiatives in collaboration with Indigenous communities. Her research and curatorial projects examine nineteenth-century Native American art and exchange with Euro-Americans, as well as contemporary artistic and activist engagements with the histories and ongoing processes of colonization. Annika received her PhD in art history from the University of Pittsburgh in 2019 and grew up in Minnesota, Dakota homelands called Mni Sóta Makoce.



Diana Martinez is the Programs Director for The Union for Contemporary Art in Omaha, NE. The Union for Contemporary Art strengthens the cultural and social landscape of our community by using the arts as a vehicle to inspire positive social change. She is the former Artistic Director of Film Streams, a non-profit arthouse organization in Omaha, Nebraska. She was previously the organization’s Education Director. At Film Streams, in collaboration with founder Rachel Jacobson, she launched See Change, a gender parity initiative committed to programming 50% women-directed films by the end of 2021. Diana received her PhD from the University of Oregon. While there, she taught classes in film history, media aesthetics, and writing. 



Based in Omaha, Nebraska, Alajia McKizia is a Black multi-disciplinary artist and curator working in community organizing, visual art, performance, herbalism, and creative placemaking. McKizia was a 2020 Inside/Outside Fellow at the Union For Contemporary Art where she debuted her movement performance film honoring Black women in Omaha titled “Resonate.” She co-founded Hiatus Healing Collective, an herbal mutual aid collective started in 2020. Alajia has featured interactive community art projects to explore themes of Black liberation throughout Omaha, as well as participated in group exhibits at The Bemis for Contemporary Art, Kaneko, TugBoat Gallery, Amplify Arts, and more. Alajia is the organizer of Juneteenth Joy Fest, an annual Black Arts & Culture Festival. She also is the curator of Sunday Soul; a five part series honoring women artists which was a 2022 Populus Fund project. Alajia was a 2022 Inspire Awards Young Leader Recipient and continues to cultivate community and creativity throughout Omaha



About the Moderator:

Jared Packard is an artist and curator based in Omaha, NE where he works as the Exhibitions Manager at the Bemis Center for Contemporary Art.  Packard completed his BA at Clark University and his MFA at School of the Art Institute of Chicago. He has curated Opulence: Performative Wealth and the Failed American Dream, Bemis Center, Omaha; the NEA-funded unLOCK: Merging Art and Industry, Lockport, IL; the nationally traveling exhibition, ReTooled: Highlights from the Hechinger Collection; and (Re)Flex Space, Sullivan Galleries, Chicago, IL. He has shown at Project Project, Omaha, NE; ADDS DONNA, Chicago, IL; Sullivan Galleries, Chicago, IL; Centre International d’Art Contemporain, Pont-Aven, France; Hillyer Art Space, Washington, D.C.


 
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