In keeping with the theme of "Generational Dialogues," we asked several past NYFA Fellows to address the following question: "Briefly describe your relationship with the communities and institutions that provide support and resources for your work, and the ways this relationship may differ for emerging and established artists. How has your relationship to these communities and institutions changed as your career has progressed?" Here are some of their responses. The survey will continue in the next issue of FYI.

My practice has always been fueled by issues that are somewhat outside of the purvey of what is normally considered "art." My approach has been investigatory by definition, relying on "research" in various disciplines and areas in order to develop both the form and the content of each of my very different projects. As I have continued to produce work, I hope that I have become more skillful at collaborating with the many individuals who have made my proposals a reality. These include curators at specific institutions, local community groups, experts in various fields, volunteers and students, gallerists, production personnel, technical specialists, performers, post-production facilities, and peer groups. Without their generosity, good will and very hard work, my "art" would not exist.

Arriving in Williamsburg in 1988 with an MFA in painting, an NEA Performance Fellowship, and performances at Franklin Furnace and The Kitchen, I had dreams of multi-media and the reality of doubled rent. Twelve years later, I miss the close-knit artistic community of the now trendy neighborhood. And though I’m tiring of the constant self-promotion and financial sacrifice required, I feel relatively settled and successful, if not fully "emerged." I survived, got some breaks, press, grants, a gallery, world travel, etc. There is always another venue to aspire to in the still overwhelmingly competitive art/music scene here. I still make my living primarily with Young Audiences, which essentially supports my more experimental sculpture and performance projects. Two NYFA Fellowships and the occasional sale of work really made a difference. I’m still dreaming of more opportunities.

Lenora Champagne, playwright, performance artist

"Communities and institutions" are comprised of individual people. I’d advise getting to know people while they’re still part of the community, before they get hired by or create the institutions. In other words, form connections with your peers, with people you like and whose work interests you. The most important thing for emerging artists to do, besides making their work and finding their own voice, is to find like-minded souls—other artists, graduate students, entrepreneurs. Help them when you can, and ask them for help when you need it. My friends have been, and continue to be, my main support. If only more of them ran institutions!

See all the work in your field—and in related fields—that you can. Write about work you love, or curate a show of work that interests you. Do what you can to be an advocate for other worthy emerging artists. It’s important that new artists form networks and support one another.

I write about leisure, fantasy and culture. Most magazines won’t print a reflective essay about these subjects unless it’s by an established writer. So, I write a lot for smaller publications, and for myself. Because my own voice is not yet established as having authority, my ideas are still evaluated and changed by editors. The longer I write for magazines, though, the more the editors I work with will support and trust what I have to say. That’s a good feeling. As a researcher, my relative inexperience often serves me well: I try to write about culture without the distance of a journalistic eye, without the objectivity of a scholar—but instead from the subjective enthusiasm of a participant.

I have to say that as a young aspiring architect who came to New York 15 years ago, I viewed institutions such as NYFA, NYSCA, Creative Time, Storefront for Art and Architecture, Artists Space, the Architectural League and others as a form of revelation. I viewed them this way because one of their primary reasons for being was for the support of up-and-coming architects (and other practicing artists) in developing their talents as artists. What a wonderful discovery that architecture was considered an art form in which one actively engaged. For the first time, I felt that what I strove to do was validated by this distinction of architecture as art worthy of support. Now, as I am establishing my own work and identity within the architectural community, I find my relationship to such organizations has evolved. I am now on the other side of things, serving on the board of the Architectural League and Artists Space. I also serve on scholarship panels, etc., where I feel the obligation is to provide the continuity of support for the next wave of New York architects who need the same validation and nurturing to create their work as an art.

I, Harley Spiller, am a collector, arts administrator, and edutainer. I am not an artist in the strict sense of the word. I have had a few exhibitions of my collections: two (graffiti stickers and Chinese menus) at Franklin Furnace; stickers redux at the Islip Art Museum; and paperclips at the Children’s Museum of Manhattan. I now use my collections as teaching tools. I have presented them at The Jewish Museum, The American Museum of Natural History, The Montclair Art Museum, The Newark Museum, The Museum of the City of New York, and The New York Historical Society. These are one-day exhibitions of a sort. By switching from my "posture" as an artist in order to get shows at Franklin Furnace, to posing as a teacher in order to work more with people and museums and collections, I have found greater acceptance. I can get a show by calling it a public program. The programs only last a day, but I get paid and get some exposure. I can also put the projects on my résumé. I also reach lots more people this way. Community schmonnunity. My projects work well if the people attending care. Regardless of the community, there will always be people who care and people who do not. In general, what I see is that arts organizations and communities are not doing any better at helping artists than they did in the past.