The Art of Showing Up
“Were those fMRI scans?” I wondered as I walked into an art exhibit last Tuesday at Telematic Media Arts in San Francisco’s SoMa neighborhood. A former colleague1 referred me to the show because his Morehouse roommate, Nic[o]2 Brierre Aziz, was in town for a conversation3 about his work.
The piece4, part of his recent MFA thesis, featured several sagittal brain scans overlaid on a map of the United States. Some brains lit up in response to freestyle rap. Others, in response to racialized trauma.
The greyscale brains with yellow and purple and orange highlights contrasted a carbon black map of the US, made by reacting sugar with sulfuric acid to yield carbon powder. Dead cockroaches5 littered the nation. As a neuroscience nerd and former science teacher, I was hooked. But even more curious about why.
Though I’ve always loved art, I’ve struggled to make my vision come to life. Encouraged by my mom and teachers, I took ceramics and studio art6,7 in high school. But unlike my sister, it never quite clicked8.
Interpreting art has also never come easily to me. When on tours of DC museums my friend Shana, an art history professor, would give our friend group, I’d always ask, "What does this mean?" she’d always reply, “What does it mean to you?”
On Tuesday, in a story about a heated critique he’d recently experienced while in Yale’s MFA program, Brierre Aziz talked about debriefing the crit with the other party. As the other student grappled with the impact of his reaction to Brierre Aziz’s works, he realized “artwork is a mirror.”
For me, Brierre Aziz’s oeuvre reflected my experiences, as well as my current state of mind. It wasn’t just that I am also “a Black man in America,” a phrase my grandfather often intoned in a serious, gruff voice.
But Brierre Aziz described how his work intentionally pulls the viewer into the work — blurring the lines between “spectator and participant.” He plays with perspectives, and he strives for his pieces to exist in the world, not just in exclusive galleries and museums.
Lastly, he touched on the notion of “colonial psychosis.” In particular, how colonialism is a “distortion of power” into an oppressive relationship, while he views power as “getting people to be their best.”
Brierre Aziz’s work mirrored not just my experiences, but the questions I’ve been sitting with lately, especially about JOINERS. I jotted these reflections in my notebook (the only one in the room9). His work didn’t just mirror—it moved me. But what does that mean?
JOINERS is trying to get people off the bleachers and into the game, as democracy10 demands. I learned (while writing this) that it was Lotte E. Scharfman who said, “democracy is not a spectator sport.”
With national issues, it’s easy to stay in observer mode: panels, talks, podcasts, retweets, lawn signs. But democracy demands more. It starts small: a public comment, a trash cleanup, a conversation with a neighbor. These are civic actions too.
JOINERS is also in the business of helping people to be their best, fullest, civic selves. This is the question to crack: how might we get attendees to turn into participants, and then turn these participants into members and hosts of events and actions.
In recent user interviews, there’s a fascinating thread about ownership showing up repeatedly. People (or at least the people I’m talking to) are not looking for transactional belonging. They are also looking for a place where they can take ownership — similar to a co-op model.
This recent Atlantic piece touched on the drawbacks of the so-called “friendship economy11” and I don’t want JOINERS to be that. What the organization is and what it offers has to come from the participants’ having ownership of the organization and its direction. Much like our democracy.
In a time when our national civic trust is in freefall, finding ways to participate and facilitating others to join feels more urgent than ever.
In a few hours I’m hosting the biggest JOINERS event yet. More than 60 people are registered—most of whom I’ve never met. That’s new. After I print off more signage and pack up post-its and markers, I’ll be heading over to set up chairs and test A/V in the “Garage” of the generous folks at Two Pitcher Brewing and Lovely’s in Downtown Oakland. I’m hoping people feel what I’m trying to build: a space where participation feels not only possible, but easy and personal.
I plan to ask what they need to become members—and what they’d like to contribute. Because joining is just the beginning.
Upcoming Events
April 25 (TONIGHT), 5-9pm: JOIN or DIE Screening. Join or Die is a film about why you should join a club—and why the fate of America depends on it. Follow the story of America's civic unraveling through the journey of Robert Putnam, whose legendary "Bowling Alone" research into American community decline may hold the answers to our democracy's present crisis. RSVP on Partiful.
April 25 (TONIGHT). Roopa Mahadevan Carnatic concert, featuring violin and mridangam accompaniment. RSVP at Wyldflowr.
April 26. Roopa Mahadevan’s crossover concert, featuring Indian classical with jazz, R&B/soul, free improv arrangements. RSVP at Wyldflowr.
May 4, 9:30-12pm: Make a Miniature Vignette. In this 2.5 hour workshop for adults, you’ll create a miniature scene that features a wall and floor, framed piece of art, console table, miniature books, and clock. You’ll get to customize your space with a choice of art print and mini-framing method, “tile” color and pattern, wall color, clock color, and more. Final dimensions approx. 7.75” tall x 6” wide x 3.7” deep. Hosted by JOINERS regular, Erica Meade. RSVP at Brushstrokes Studio.
Shoutout to Kenny Williams — I credit his referral without really knowing me for my job at CZI.
Artist’s preferred stylization.
I couldn’t find a picture (and forgot to take one) but it’s really, really dope!
I learned that part of the reason cockroaches are so prevalent in the USA is that they cast away onto ships during the transatlantic slave trade, which spent lots of time docked in the insect’s preferred wet habitats.
My friend Erica from last issue who is a member of Claremont club was in that class and was MUCH better. Like it’s not even funny.
I don’t know what was wrong with me that the teacher sent home an “interim” notice — when you might get a C — for an art class.
Although I did get into surrealism and — as I now know from the Elastic magazine opening I shared a couple weeks ago — psychedelic art.
A couple weeks ago, Roopa (go to her music events shared below) and I went to an Alexis Madrigal’s book talk for The Pacific Circuit, and of the several hundred people we were the only ones taking notes.
I thought I’d share that I keep making a typo of “democrazy” and maybe that’s Freudian.
🤢