How an art and culture organization in the Andes creates resilience

ArteSumapaz is an art and culture center founded in 2019 on a former coffee plantation in Cundinamarca, Colombia. Our strategy for the center is based on an ecosystem of communities; with the belief that no one community type by itself is sufficiently robust to create enduring meaningful change in the system. The center’s initial central function is that of an artist residency, in which artists come from all over the world and stay anywhere from one to six months. The residency is artist-funded, meaning we don’t rely on government funding. Because of the difference of economies between Colombia and the US and Europe, it means modest fees from a handful of artists ensures a financial break-even for the foundation’s operating costs.

The creation of an intentional community in which interested individuals make a more substantial donation to the foundation forms the basis for purchasing the property over a five-year agreement with the owners. Meanwhile, we have already demonstrated that with artists and passive reforestation, we are able to generate more revenue than the local traditional model of cow ranching, which has allowed the land to regenerate with local species. The three main communities that have thus far worked together include the local agricultural community, international artists, musicians, writers and other makers, as well as the longer-term participants in the intentional community. Each community provides either a historical perspective or a source of fresh new ideas.

The idea that nature is at the center of creative endeavors can be heard in the advice of artists going back to the Renaissance, and even more recently, in the pedagogy of the Bauhaus and Black Mountain College in the United States.

Saying that nature conservation is at the heart of art making comes easily, as does a focus on social justice issues such as colonialism, racism, misogyny, and discrimination against trans persons. We’ve come to believe that these are not separate issues, but in themselves are all a part of creating innovative solutions to help heal both the traumas of people, but those traumas inflicted against our very environment.

We ask creatives to ponder these issues; but also how do we then share them across with local communities in a non-colonialist spirit. This, ultimately, requires a mutual sharing of ideas; it cannot be unidirectional. We have to work within the realm of not only creative solutions, but in the systems of communication in which those ideas can be received and help to create change.

Change and Fixity

In Entangled Life, Merlin Sheldrake wrote, “…all life-forms are in fact processes not things. The “you “ of five years ago was made from different stuff than the “you “ of today.” 

This brings to mind one of my favorite psychologists, Robert Kegan, who’s theory about adult development suggests that there is an ultimate stage of development in which we understand that we are not fixed; that we play roles with other people in the context of their own roles.

Kegan wrote another book, which would really be more at home amongst other business books like the classic Good to Great, or Blue Ocean Strategy. In “Immunity to Change” Kagan takes this notion of adult development and writes about the things that impede us from changing despite our resolutions. Some flukes in our identity keep us from having to face other bits, and thus in some form or another, keep us from even greater demons. 

In those cases, we’re less of Sheldrake’s processes, and more of a fixed notion, at least until the final D catches up with us and we become one again with the dust of ages. Perhaps then, we might spend some of our time being an object, and other parts of our time being a process. Perhaps, it’s a choice we each face every day – to embrace being an unfixed thing – or to assume all the elements of our identity, fixed in place. 

In drawing, particularly with charcoal or pastels, we use a horrific blend of chemicals in a spray can called fixative. The idea is that the stuff keeps the particles of the drawing from being changed, or with certain Ultraviolet filters, from fading. Of course, all matter is forever unfixed – and whether your paintings and drawings crumble by next spring, or in 2,000 years doesn’t really concern the sedimentary rocks established over 300,000 years ago. All of these things of ours will become part of the earth again. Even dinosaur fossils are for the most part not the bones themselves, but bones that have been replaced with minerals, only holding the original form of the prototype.

How can we cultivate being more in process and less of a thing? I would say by “allowing” it. In allowing, we don’t attempt to impede the rich messages of the world around us by our own fixed ideas of what things are saying. When asked how he made his characters have such voices, the playwright August Wilson protested that he did not make them have voices, he allowed them to have voices. Michelangelo had a similar idea about uncovering the figures that were already existent in the stone, while his contemporary da Vinci exhorted artists to find the images in the water stains on the wall.

There are many tools available to us, like Word of the Day, the Tarot, the iChing, and more. The hallmark of these tools is they present us with a structured set of archetypal information or even seemingly random notions – and our brains magically stitch these things into relevant patterns. It’s as though someone living across the hall came over and knocked on the door, and gave us the treasure map for the box of gems hidden in your own backyard. 

Preceding the passage quoted in the beginning, Sheldrake wrote, “You can think of your life like this. The growing tip is the present moment — your lived experience of now — which gnaws into the future as it advances. The history of your life is the rest of the hypha, the blue lines that you’ve left in a tangled trail behind you. A mycelial network is a map of a fungus’s recent history…”

Your life is your map!

My Humongous Audacious Dream Follow-up

In 2018, I wrote a blog post titled My Humongous Audacious Dream. We had yet to even move on to the property that now makes up ArteSumapaz. Now, we’ve hosted well over 150 artists and volunteers, have completed several construction projects, have participated in local community events, and are just about to sign the agreement to purchase the property over the next six year.

That, in turn, will enable us to start the reforestation project, the sculpture park, and the intentional community; meaning I’ll be able to construct my own home and studio!

The vision for the center has grown so much since 2018, but has lost none of its audacity. If anything, the project members have become more clear about how this place can play a role in helping to heal the trauma to both the people of this beautiful country as well as that of the land.

Invitation to participate

Amy Sillman

Dear Jackie,

I guess you didn’t know this but me and Abstraction broke up!!!!! Last summer!!!! Well, I mean, I’ve been feeling like kind of confused for a long time, like years. I’m friends with all of A’s friends and stuff, and I think A’s really cool and I totally learned a LOT from A—but you know what? I don’t want to say anything bad about A, but I have to TOTALLY MOVE ON with my LIFE. I started to really feel like A’s been holding me back and even like kind of manipulative. I mean, when I moved to NYC it was kind of incredible to get to know A … but you know what? I am super worried that when you get really to the core of things, A is just super conceited and can’t talk to me. I feel really bad saying this but I KIND OF WONDER sometimes if A is just DEAD INSIDE. I don’t know, maybe A is like a meal ticket for me. I mean, I get invited to a lot of shows and things because of A, but when I’m there, A just kind of talks to other people. Like I don’t feel A can really concentrate on one person at a time—A always addresses the whole room, if you know what I mean. I mean, it’s not like Representation even knows I exist either. I feel like when I come into the room, R is like all glassy and actually really conservative; it’s a weird feeling, too. But anyway I just started to feel like I can’t be tied down and I have to play the field. I guess all of you know that I was always like that and totally non-monogamous, but that’s why you didn’t hear from me all winter. I totally learned a lot from A, and I even got to be friends w/ Cézanne who I didn’t even LIKE before and now I like totally, like, LOVE, and I super love Cubism, (I am so mad at my friend Kerstin in Berlin because she doesn’t even LIKE Cubism but I feel like Cubism is like so amazing. It’s basically a diagram, if you know what I mean.) OH, and also, I never would have understood Process without A but I just feel like A’s really old friends are just WEIRD. And kind of pompous? Or something? Well, anyway, I feel really bad telling you this, like you’ll be pissed, but I hope you know this has nothing to do with you and I really love you and the part of A’s friends that are really open like you are AMAZING and everything. But basically I kicked A out of my studio this summer, and afterwards I felt really good. I had this amazing fling, don’t tell anyone, but I had this fling with this face, and I don’t know, that was the straw that tipped the iceberg and I just went with it. I feel like me and A can be good friends after a while, though, and I am super hoping that all of A’s friends will still be friends with me, but, sometimes I almost kind of wish, you know, I was sleeping ALONE. You know what I mean????

Love,

Amy

Amy Sillman

For painters the studio is the Prison House, and paints are the fluids that circulate inside it. Alchemy’s lesson here is that everything actually takes place within the body. The insanity of the studio is that it is not architecture- it is not made of wood and cement- but it is nothing other than the inside of the body.

James Elkins, What Painting Is

“What matters in painting is the _necessity_ of self-reference, it’s forbidden nature, and the many strange marks it leaves on the work. In Rembrandt’s self-portrait, his skin is paint, and the paint is his skin. Paint refers to itself, smearing over itself, sliding over itself, caressing itself- its illicit sensuality is constantly apparent , a droning sound under all painting.” – James Elkins in What Painting Is

My 36-Year Retrospective

The last four people sharing lock-down with us here at ArteSumapaz have left, and I now have both an exhibition space (el Granero) and the massive studio. Several years ago, I packed up all of my work that had been in the upstate New York studio, and shipped them to Bogota. I realized recently that I really needed to unpack these paintings that had been wrapped in plastic and cardboard – some of the earlier works were suffering from the direct contact with the cardboard – so I decided to use this opportunity of space and tranquility to unpack, and to mount a personal retrospective of my work.

Continue reading “My 36-Year Retrospective”