Art, Culture, and Social Justice: New Orleans

Art, Culture, and Social Justice: New Orleans

by M. de los A. Muñoz Martínez [HP]

Headed by Prof. Caron Atlas, this experiential course takes place every year after the APA conference, and aims to investigate how the arts and culture are a fundamental part of the vision and the construction of equitable and sustainable communities. For the Spring of 2018 the location was New Orleans, and with the collaboration of Mimi Zarsky -local artist who has been working with the artist community in NOLA for over 20 years- we went on site visits, guided tours, cultural events and had conversations with people representing multiple perspectives, thus exploring the intersection between arts and culture and social justice.

Drum Lesson at Congo Square with Luther Gray, co-founder Congo Square Preservation Society.

Photo: Koichiro Tomamura.

I had been to New Orleans only once before for a couple of days, so I came to the class with a very superficial notion of what the city was and the role of the arts in the construction of its identity. Thinking it would be similar to other historic cities, I looked forward to being exposed to a more complete or at least a more diverse set of cultural expressions, and to be able to really meet the people that live and work in New Orleans, beyond what the French Quarter wants us, visitors, to see.

Through this trip I realized that the city is in fact a complex mixture of people, history, and places, and that behind the façade of tourism there are strong and interconnected communities with rich histories that are valued and protected by them, even if they are left out of the mainstream narratives or have been reduced to their aesthetic value by others. The arts are not seen as a place for exclusion or social barriers, but rather a strong platform to communicate people’s issues as well as their pride and accomplishments.

Unfortunately, like many other historic cities, the disconnect between tourism and cultural institutions or community organizations is deep. The people that create the culture that attracts millions of visitors rarely get the financial benefits from that exposure, and like many of our presenters told us, there are no policies that effectively protect intellectual property against exploitation. The need to provide tourists with a positive and enjoyable experience has resulted in gentrification and displacement, art forms have been distorted, and the uncomfortable parts of history have been muted or downplayed.

I couldn’t help but think how much preservation has contributed to this. None of the people we talked to mentioned preservationists as one of their partners nor preservation laws as a resource, and for what I could gather during the conversations with my colleagues there, it is a field focused almost exclusively on physical conservation. Preservation represents mostly the interests and views of the elite and focuses mostly on aesthetic value, telling the stories that only a group of educated people deem necessary or important. The language and tools are also designed to be excluding, and even though they are quite robust here, they are not something that community organizations can access and use effectively.

This was a very challenging thing for me, mostly because in New York -and especially at Pratt- this field is moving towards community engagement and values-based preservation. I was reminded then that we are the exception, not the rule, and that those making decisions and providing funding still have to be educated about the importance of expanding the scope beyond physical conservation and grand architecture. The cultural heritage of any city or town is not just buildings or people, is the combination of both and how they influence each other over the years, so strategies and tools must be planned and used accordingly.

I was glad to see that in NOLA the art world has reached a level of complexity that exemplifies what I believe are the goals for values-based preservation. Their strong ties to community justice and activism causes one to be a direct reflection of the other, debunking the notion that art is only about and for artists. Their commitment to being an artist AND something else is very refreshing and proves the importance of a multidisciplinary approach to any issue. Despite their differences, there is a sense of being part of a larger community that builds up from each other’s experiences rather than just individual examples of cultural expressions or discussions about social injustice.

Land, industry, and ancestry tour of St. Bernard Parish and New Orleans with Nick Slie, from Mondo Bizarro.

Photo: Mimi Zarski.

There were many lessons to be learned from the New Orleans experience, and there are many more to be explored in other areas, but I can venture to say that at the core of all of them are people driving change. Natural disasters serve as a magnifying glass for the existing problems that were already in a city or town, but can also be an opportunity for improvement if everyone involved is willing to put the common good before individual interests. This could not be more true for New Orleans after Katrina. Despite all the shortcomings, communities came together to overcome their challenges and share their achievements, using the arts as an effective medium to rebuild and preserve the social fabric after the trauma. For me, this was a lesson in learning how to engage people by using a language –in this case art and cultural expression- that they feel comfortable with and that they see as their own, instead of forcing our own preconceived ideas of what works and what doesn’t. We will never know more about a community’s needs than the will, so we must become bridges for them to have access to all the available resources and tools, and facilitate processes rather than lead them. This is what I strive for in my practice, and hope to strengthen through experiences like this one.