Cultural Centers As Neighborhood Havens: An Interview With Libertad O. Guerra

Activist Estates (installation detail) commissioned by Libertad O. Guerra as the last exhibit she produced at the Loisaida Center; curated by Nandini Bagshee, 2018.

Activist Estates (installation detail) commissioned by Libertad O. Guerra as the last exhibit she produced at the Loisaida Center; curated by Nandini Bagshee, 2018.

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By Alva Mooses

Update (3/30/2020): The bulk of this interview was done a few weeks before the COVID-19 pandemic, but it has recently been updated to more closely reflect the present critical moment.

Libertad O. Guerra is an urban anthropologist, curator, and cultural organizer/producer. Her work has taken place in a range of geographic, social, and urban contexts, including Puerto Rico, Canada, Berlin, and in New York City, from neighborhoods in the Bronx to the Lower East Side (LES) where she has recently taken on the position as Executive Director of The Clemente Soto Vélez Cultural and Education Center (The Clemente) after serving as the Director and Chief Curator at the Loisaida Center since 2014. 

I reached out to Libertad to discuss her long commitment to such critical cultural centers, the opportunities she envisions for Latinx artists with her new role at The Clemente, and the ways in which this all relates to her larger trajectory. 

Alva Mooses: I am interested in what drew you to working in cultural centers such as the Loisaida Center and The Clemente. Can you describe the role of such important cultural centers in supporting visual artists, how they create space for radical art and diverse aesthetics, especially in our current political climate?

Libertad O. Guerra: Cultural centers, if well done, are sanctuary spaces that can serve multiple purposes supportive of communities on the ground; including communities of artists. A cultural center can be a repository of memories, a kind of gym for organizers, a place where dissimilar voices come meet and argue, a place of experimentation for artists, a place where folks can come try and fail in safety; cultural centers are places against loneliness but that can offer solitude when needed; a place for intergenerational dialogue; where community assets are not measured only in terms of money. All neighborhoods have a need for this; these are the things that make places healthy; but that is especially the case in Loisaida/Lower East Side, an international icon and community. 

Bimbo Rivas and Chino Garcia flanked by Tom Rollins and Joseph “Slima” Williams in La Plaza Cultural. Photo by Marlis Momber.

Bimbo Rivas and Chino Garcia flanked by Tom Rollins and Joseph “Slima” Williams in La Plaza Cultural. Photo by Marlis Momber.

Bimbo Rivas and Chino Garcia flanked by Tom Rollins and Joseph “Slima” Williams in La Plaza Cultural. Photo by Marlis Momber.

AM: You have worked extensively in both academia and as an activist in various cultural spaces, what are important differences for you?

LG: Community. Academia’s rat race environment is not easily conducive to meaningful and deep collaboration. Most folks in academia are crushed and abused by the system (most academic workers are adjuncts), and many folks just go home tired and retire if they get lucky enough to ‘make it’ in academia. Very few people comparatively speaking, keep the community vibe flowing. The system simply does not reward Mr. Rodgers-like behavior.

Cultural centers, on the other hand, should be about precisely that type of neighborliness. At least they are about that for me; and I think that is why I have this relatively numerous group of folks that sort of accompany me on this road wherever I go. Because I hate loneliness, and whenever I set shop I go all out to create a welcoming, collaborative, mix-up, neighborly, hopefully courageous space of company, mingling, some needed irreverence, and sharing.

I also think, cultural/community centers serve as perfect segways and platforms for scholars to share their work on more democratized settings, and confront it with outside the ivory tower feedback from community residents, activists, students, cultural workers, etc.

Libertad O. Guerra in conversation with Nandini Bagshee at the Loisaida Center. Photo by Melvin Audaz.

Libertad O. Guerra in conversation with Nandini Bagshee at the Loisaida Center. Photo by Melvin Audaz.

Libertad O. Guerra in conversation with Nandini Bagshee at the Loisaida Center. Photo by Melvin Audaz.

AM: As the new Executive Director, what is your vision for The Clemente, specifically within the arts?

LG: Make it the default go to place NY-wide for those seeking the Latinx downtown multi-disciplinary narrative; a pipeline for new talent; a clearinghouse of resources for producers; a place where the generative and pre-commercial Downtown spirit of the old NY co-exists and thrives without erasing one group or another, and always in the act of futuring what would otherwise be invisibilized.

The Lower East Side is the district with more cultural organizations per capita (that can be understood as competition), but it also has one of the most robusts ecosystems of collaboration across organizations and institutions. The Clemente, can fulfill an explicit strategic role by connecting the past and future from a Latinx perspective sorely missing, and also be embedded within its larger im/migrant legacy and collaborative context of peer cultural organizations.

I admire greatly the experiment and courage of what the folks at Performance Space New York will be doing on their 40th anniversary under the yearlong project 02020 to add transparency to their inner-workings, build new coalitions towards re-calibrating future oriented art practice. The Clemente and PSNY were both part of the 1980’s wave of appropriating abandoned public school buildings for arts purposes during the dis-investment era. I’ve been honored to humbly serve as advisor to their quest, and excited to partner on a series of projects with the 02020 cohort to experiment with new institutional structures and lateral place-based partnerships that are more contextual and community centered.

Many institutions around the city are talking pretty: diversity, equity, decolonization, inclusion, bla bla bla, but nothing changes. Performance Space is walking the walk. This is a bit scary for all, I am sure. Respect. 

The arts should be about decentering everybody and everything simultaneously, and exploring the heightened awareness that comes from that. There are many ways of doing this, and I hope to provide space for these many ways to flourish at The Clemente. A space of memory, a meeting place, a space of opportunity, heritage conservation but also provocations, of experimentation, of safety and self-discovery, an institution that can support our surrounding communities in their challenges, and leverage our internal assets to do this while having some fun if possible. I also see the arts as an irreverent intergenerational dialogue, but for this to work it has to happen within a safe place, an environment of compassion and care, not of selfishness and diva-ness. The only diva here is our hood, so don’t even think about it. 

Flamboyan Theater event at The Clemente, 2020. Photo by Chris Cruz.

Flamboyan Theater event at The Clemente, 2020. Photo by Chris Cruz.

Flamboyan Theater event at The Clemente, 2020. Photo by Chris Cruz.

AM: What opportunities are there for Latinx artists at this historic cultural center?

LG: There could be more, and there will be under my leadership at The Clemente. My aim is to recover the organization’s history and situate it into the neighborhood’s context of art and place-based activism. We need to connect to the interdependent dynamics of place, its design, along with the cultural bearers of that place (33% of the LES is still Puerto Rican/Latinx), and the panoply of shared purpose and meaning.

The Clemente is a hidden gem with a beautiful and raucous community of artist tenants, most of them survivors of hard cultural battles past; they made it in one piece out of the Giuiliani and Bloomberg era, for example. At the same time, we need to connect more intentionally with the institution’s mission, and with the surrounding community. We need to open up the place and air it, make it better known, bring more light in, project more light out, make the building more reflective of the awesome diversity of the city, etc. etc. To do that we need to preserve The Clemente’s role as a critical hub of affordability.

I want it to recommit to an intentional programming philosophy of responsive arts; the largest and only surviving fully multi-arts cultural institution in Lower Manhattan with a Puerto Rican/Latinx and multicultural foundational mission providing subsidized creative working space and multiple venues for emergent and mid-career artists and cultural producers; it is also a presenting, production, and educational haven while increasingly becoming a more robust visibility platform for creatives of color.

“THE TERM, ‘AMERICANS’ (USED FOR US CITIZENS TO THE EXCLUSIONS OF THOSE WITH WHOM WE SHARE THE HEMISPHERE) MASKS AND MAINTAINS DEEP SOCIAL AND CULTURAL DIVISIONS THAT DETERMINE PLACE AND DISPLACEMENT LIKE NOTHING ELSE.”

— Lucy Lippard, Lure of the Local: Sense of Place in a Multicentered Society

AM: Considering an increasingly transient population moving to neighborhoods like the LES, how do you see cultural centers building rapport with short term residents?  

LG: Important question. I think a cultural center should help all feel welcomed, and also elicit some sense of respect, responsibility, and empathy in those transient types. I lived in a few places as a transient myself, I remember it well. I always guided myself by these cultural beacons or landmarks that show that people have been living, creating, and loving these places way before I got there. The world didn’t begin with me. That is a good feeling.

Being transient has nothing to do with not caring. Neighborhoods are not leased cars, or cheap hotels. A well-run cultural center makes that clear; it also supports new arrivals and transients from avoiding falling into the Columbus syndrome trap. That’s invaluable support these days. Our development and real estate tropes seem unable to move beyond the idea that renting is about ‘discovering’ a place. A cultural center is a constant reminder that contrary to what brokers tell you, you are not discovering anything; people have been here, look at these walls, organizations, artists. Come share correct.

We have a collective responsibility to push back against all of those that feel this city is a bullet point in their CV. When the city pushes back against folks that are in that type of head space it is helping them mature, so hey transient: you are welcome. Under my leadership short term residents, transients, will be welcomed with open arms, of course. But we in that building there are all also hardened New Yorkers. Ha ha ha.

Inaugural LAZO exhibition opening curated by resident artists at the Loisaida Center, 2019.

Inaugural LAZO exhibition opening curated by resident artists at the Loisaida Center, 2019.

Inaugural LAZO exhibition opening curated by resident artists at the Loisaida Center, 2019.

AM: In terms of the visual arts, what sets cultural spaces like The Clemente, apart from other exhibition spaces in the LES?

LG: We are providing long-term subsidized studios for working artists of all stripes within the context of a Latinx/ Puerto Rican institutional mission. Our community of artists is a mature one and it is my intention to leverage this experience to support emergent artists as well as mission aligned organizations. At the same time, our beautiful building has the gallery spaces, the performance and theater spaces, right there. It is, if you want it to be, a one-stop shop.

Also, we will be connecting the center much more intentionally with the surrounding communities -which includes not only Latinx, but other ethnic communities that reflect our city and, when you come to think about it, that is what New York is supposed to be about for an artist: discovering yourself, and your aesthetic language, among the chaotic fragments of the city.

The Clemente will be a safe space for artists in that traumatic process of aesthetic and language discovery; but it will also help and support the surrounding communities of mostly working class people of color. The neighborhood should not be merely the backdrop to anybody’s aesthetic drama; the neighborhood is the diva here. And The Clemente is of and for this neighborhood.

That said we have to ongoing programmatic lines that receive support from the Department of Cultural Affairs:

  1. The Multicultural Curators Project presents visual arts exhibitions that reflect the diversity of the Lower East Side and NYC as a whole. Initially established to present Latinx artists, the Multicultural Curators Project has expanded to encompass artists from many other cultures. Over the next 3 years, we will present 6 - 8 exhibitions annually as well as free public programming (workshops, panel discussions, artist talks) in conjunction with each show. Plans for progamatic expansion include a new short-term studio residency program that incorporates a collaborative social practice approach

  2. Building Community Through the Arts provides affordable space, technical support,

    and marketing assistance to performing arts organizations that are aligned with our

    mission. Events range from one-night performances to multi-week festivals. In FY21, the

    program features our acclaimed annual productions including: International Puppet

    Fringe, Borimix Festival, as well as new co-productions with LMCC’s  River to River Festival, Issue Project Room, Performance Space NY, and smaller community events, book talks and forum series.

AM: A few cultural centers in NYC with strong ties to Puerto Rico provided critical support during the environmental catastrophes in recent years. What lessons or experiences can you use for the current COVID-19 pandemic tragedy?

LG: Cultural centers from the Bronx to Brooklyn, and not only Puerto Rican, have been spaces of sanctuary during these years of catastrophe and forced migration. Access to brick and mortar space is always essential to strategize in these types of situations. Initiatives and organizing require a level of embodiment, not to stay solely on the discursive level. Suffice it to say that I believe many artists, both here and there in the island, demonstrated a much more refined capacity to lead in wise and just ways, than the administrations we have both here at the federal level and in the island (some of which the people in Puerto Rico kicked out last summer).

Of course, we should remember that these so-called environmental catastrophes are not such. This pandemic demonstrates this truism. These are human-made, mostly preventable, situations that become human tragedies due to the context of colonial domination and the current debt regime. In the specific case of austerity, the situation has raised the gradual consciousness in PR of our Caribbean Antillean placement and the joyful connection and rekindling with our neighbors in the region as well as its diaspora. It remains to be seen what folks learn from the COVID-19 catastrophe. Folks in DC, even here in NY, must have known how serious this was, and nothing or very little was done.

As it concerns me, my friends and networks, and the way many are already involved in trans-local collaborations, we did everything we did to support folks down on the island in a spirit of decoloniality, self-determination, and love. Who better than us to protect ourselves? 

This is a central lesson for the current COVID-19 crisis. It is important to remember the creative power and social commitment of so many cultural workers, and not set them (us) aside as non-essential. We also have to be careful not to narrate artists and cultural workers as a class on their own. We do not have a capitalist class, a working-class, and a cultural class group. Most cultural workers are working-class folks in difficult and precarious situations; and although we talked pretty early on at the Clemente about the need to close the place to the public, and then to residents, so we could protect all (including our staff), it is heart-wrenching to see us all (museum workers, academics, cultural workers, etc.) being labeled non-essential. At a very immediate and concrete level this is totally understandable. But there is a deeper undertone operating here as well. The word itself is pretty catastrophic. Long story short, we need to take care of ourselves, and of our communities. When you realize there is nobody upstairs, then who are the truly non-essential folks?

All of this has been evident for quite a while and that is why I have been involved with a group of fierce cultural workers for over a year now, planning to launch a solidarity economy initiative in the city, to be piloted in the Lower East Side, but with aims of expanding eventually to other communities of color such as Mott Haven-Port Morris, in the South Bronx. We are calling it JustXChanges. The idea is to expand our sense and understanding of economic exchanges in more creative and humane ways. To get some of our needs met without eating that paycheck away.

Abrazarte Benefit for Puerto Rico produced by Libertad O. Guerra at The Clemente two weeks after Hurricane Maria, 2017.

AM: Is there a topic related to your work that you feel doesn’t get addressed enough?

LG: I’m an environmental justice activist, co-founder of the environmental justice and place-keeping coalition South Bronx Unite, and proud to serve on the board of the Mott Haven/Port Morris Community Land Trust.

Last year I was able to contribute an article to FIELD Journal linking the three enclaves (South Bronx, Loisaida, San Juan/P.R.) through the lens of culture and activism: SovereignTies: The Shared Sovereignty of Trust, Culture, and Land.

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