A visionary is one who can find his way by moonlight and see the dawn before the rest of the world.” – Oscar Wilde
Winter Solstice, the darkest day of the year, is my favorite time. It’s a day to take stock of the metaphorical internal light that I’ve built up, or in some years depleted, and imagine the many dawns that await the year ahead. I often wonder what would happen if, collectively, we embraced this time of darkness to find our moments of learning and leadership. What if, instead of end-of-year resolutions to be better, we gave ourselves and those around us the grace of assuming we are better?
These are questions I also ask of Now + There, our collective of visionary artists, engaged citizens, and the passionate team supporting the birth of public projects. Each year this organization reinvents itself (now, temporary; there, site-specific) with four to six artists in an equal number of new Boston locations with the unquantifiable number of questions that N+T projects pose.
The constants from year to year are our values of bold, open, and sharp (BOS), the mighty team who embraces BOS, and our work as “Art Doulas”, a term Ambrosia artist Cicely Carew bestowed on us. This positive spin on the darkest moments that occur in “making something that’s never been done before” accurately describes the confusion, labor, and eventual grace that is N+T’s 2021 story.
A soaring element from Ambrosia. Photo still by Casey Preston.
Close up of Ambrosia. Photo by Caitlin Cunningham.
“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” – Desmond Tutu
Like any start-up business, every new public art project hits what Paul Graham termed the “Trough of Sorrow.” I warn artists who go through N+T’s Public Art Accelerator program about this non-linear path. Securing the funding and time to create a dream project is initially glamorous and exciting. And then reality sets in. Materials can’t be procured in time. Gravity, or a budget, brings an idea crashing to earth. And unlike experiencing that failure, or a Bob-Ross-Happy-Accident in the studio, these moments all too often occur in public spaces or with live audiences.
There were a few troughs in bringing Ambrosia, Cicely Carew’s gift of color and light, to fruition during the pre-vaccinated winter months of 2021, the least of which was a Covid scare on the first overnight install at the Prudential Center. The most critical person needed, Cicely, was home awaiting test results! Meanwhile, everyone jumped in to begin her improvisation in the sky, to make her paintings fly, wielding spray cans and operating lifts. Around 3 AM, I found myself with a fleece blanket on a dusty dressing room floor, pondering who else was sleeping on concrete.
These are the unglamorous moments of leading an arts organization that, while I am in them, I laugh at but later bring back to the team for critical analysis. Why wasn’t the work completed before installation? What would have happened if we paused production? Where was the sense of urgency coming from?
“Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness.” – Anne Frank
I believe there is no level of despair or darkness that can’t be turned into a teachable moment. In the case of my “I’ll just take a catnap on the floor,” I learned that being a leader doesn’t mean sacrificing sleep; it’s making hard decisions like canceling projects or holding people accountable for their actions, myself included.
If 2020 was a year to get creative with supply chain challenges, a year of problem-solving, then 2021 has been the year to problem-learn. At every turn, Team N+T has asked why are we doing the work, for whom, and questioned our desired outcome. We take time to learn what the answers reveal. 2021 has become the year to rebuild, from the inside out, including hard but ultimately positive team changes. It has been a year to listen for what was needed (e.g., a community asking how to make a printed mural) and slow down and respond with intention (e.g., creating transparency around the public art process so Mentoring Murals can be recreated in other communities).
Executive Director Kate Gilbert and Community Partnership Manager Kenny Mascary get safely equipped before the ropes course during the team’s visit to Pinnacle Leadership at Alnoba.
The N+T team facing their fear of heights and learning during “the ropes” while at Alnoba.
I’m proud that during the first quarter, as a Board and staff, we paused projects to allow time to reflect on our first five years and developed a strategic plan for the “second half of our first decade.” We tweaked Now + There’s mission, set a course with seven new imperatives, and wholeheartedly embraced openness as our reason for being.
Openness means every artist is unabashedly capable of sharing their inner light without overshadowing others in the process. For staff, openness means being courageous in communication and taking ownership of our work. For Boston, open means embracing difference in order to create a more vibrant and equitable future for all.
Finding Andy Goldsworthy’s Boulder House at Alnoba.
Inside Andy Goldsworthy’s Boulder House
On this Solstice morning, I wish for all who journey with me and Now + There in turning Boston from closed to open, time to reflect on our darkest days. I encourage all of us to recognize those around us who continue to be resilient, creative, and open. May we learn from our problems, find the grace needed to nurture our light, and support others in recognizing and reigniting theirs in the dawn of 2022.
In darkness + light,
Kate Gilbert, Executive Director
Photo credit: Janet Zweig’s project “What Do We Have in Common?” by Faith Ninivaggi