So many of my friends, relatives, and neighbors could know me for years and still not have heard me sing, let alone know I sing opera. I thought it was time to share my gift and abandon tradition. Tradition can hold us back. While there is still great need for the wealthy patron, opera has got to expand and be what it always was: musical storytelling.
How did performing in non-traditional places inform your work as a vocal artist? Are you continuing this type of practice outside of Brooklyn? I am more comfortable with who I am, and it is expressed in my voice and my body. It is in fact, me that people pay money to hear.
No one wants to watch a phony on stage. This boldness helped me to launch Opera Open-Stage nights. I took what I loved about the open-mic scene in Slam Poetry and decided to incorporate that communal and supportive spirit in the opera field.
Opera singers need an underground scene to keep us inspired too. The juxtaposition of humor and serious music-making is in all of these videos. What prompted you to start Muse Salon Collaborative a socially conscious network that supports artists and arts organizations , and how does it affect you, as a performer and artist?
MuseSalon came from a burning desire to connect artists with one another. Artists are powerful and vital to society and we need each other in order to manifest our talents and visions and color the world.
My artistic identity is fueled by my awareness of my community, and I want to be an active member of the community. I cannot merely make art and ignore those closest to me, both fellow artists and neighbors. For the remainder of the exhibition, visitors were encouraged to hang out in the installation and use the artwork as their own gathering place.
Beginning each night with sidewalk games and chatter, the series brought together artists, poets, musicians, dancers, and storytellers with children and adults of the diverse local community in an intimate and playful setting.
The gallery is located in a neighborhood with a vibrant stoop culture on a stretch of block without stoop architecture. Each stoop along the street took on a unique emotive character, resonating with its own collective voice.
Invited by writer and editor Syreeta McFadden to join the Feministing stoop along with five other women, our unscripted conversation paralleled many discussions we previously had together over Manhattans or at dinner parties.
The stoop took on multiple roles, existing as a third space while also providing a natural fourth wall between our group and the audience.
Cultural Fluency brought together six artists whose active and purposeful engagements with the city embody its culture. Their work — ranging from public art to photography to guerrilla opera bombs — depicts while also affecting society.
It provided an intimate experience with the artwork and was a vehicle for social connection in the gallery. The stoop invited slowness in observation, created a shift in vantage point, and transformed the role of visitors from one of reception to participation. The exhibition newspaper and online forum extended the metaphor of stoop as a third space by expanding the dialogue through a series of interviews with artists, architects, cultural producers, community activists, and politicians.
Examining the stoop as simultaneously a third thing, third space, and social device in my art practice is part of a wider research inquiry of space and place as cultural signifier.
Does the spirit of a space exist without its material form? Can a virtual space become tangible? Can a space create language?
What determines the meaning of a place? Who defines it? Can a space be transcendent? If so, why do we believe we can? View more of her work at and on Instagram eringleason. The views expressed here are those of the authors only and do not reflect the position of The Architectural League of New York.
Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. On Sunday afternoons, when most industrial businesses are closed, IBZs have a surreal and at times eerie quietness that is rare in New York City.
A sculptor recreates Coney Island at dollhouse scale. Michael Neff outlines the contours of city shadows with chalk and then photographs the resulting drawings, documenting those temporary moments, both showcasing and preserving the play of light and shadow in the urban environment.
Portfolio: Third Spaces.
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