MFA Revisited 2021 by Root Division

REVISITED 1

20 21

MFA REVISITED

MFA REVISITED MFA Revisited is a re-working of our classic biennial MFA Now exhibition. Through this exhibition we aim to provide space and bolster support for the work and growth of artists who graduated from their MFA programs in 2020. Throughout its history, MFA Now has sought to showcase work produced by Bay Area MFA candidates as a way to promote and archive current art-making practices and models. This year is different of course, and our seventh iteration of the show finds us adapting to changing times. With an international pandemic collapsing the final year of learning for many MFA students, thesis exhibitions sequestered online, the re-imagining of arts institutions, and increased unsteadiness within academic spaces—we are presenting MFA Revisited. Juried by Aay Preston-Myint, the exhibition features a dynamic survey of interdisciplinary works, as well as the promotion of each artist applicant through a comprehensive Archive Catalog Project.

EXHIBITION DATES March 10–27, 2021 2ND SATURDAY Saturday, March 13, 2021

JUROR Aay Preston-Myint Public Events and Outreach Manager Headlands Center for the Arts

MFA REVISITED EXHIBITING ARTISTS Margot Becker

Jeff Maylath

Luis Casas

Shara Mays

Calum Craik

Alana Rios

Jillian Crochet

Stuart Robertson

Santino Gonzales

Anna Sidana

Brenda Gonzalez

Christopher Williams*

Nathan Kosta

Lena Wright

Collin McEachran

Jane Yuan * Root Division Studio Artist

AAY PRESTON-MYINT Public Events and Outreach Manager Headlands Center for the Arts As we round the corner on a full year of the COVID-19 pandemic, I struggle to find words to summarize the eclectic wealth of emerging artists contained here. It’s not for lack of inspiration or desire, but simply because…I’m tired. While understandable, it’s almost embarrassing to say as I look over the work of these artists—who no doubt began their respective MFA programs eager for their practices and outlooks to be transformed through community and deep reflection, but perhaps not while also producing and performing through a global crisis. Looking deeper and longer, I can’t help but be energized by the selfless contributions of beauty, resistance, humor, and ambiguity on offer here. When I have taught in art schools, I have always found the artists in my classroom to be instrumental in my continued learning. In “normal” times, teachers and academic institutions are positioned as entities that dispense training and discipline, but some forget that students, in return, transform the school through their advocacy for inclusion, accommodation, cultural relevance, and compassion (to name very few). These truly are the qualities that have kept peers and neighbors afloat and alive during crisis—while we spent the year watching the pandemic reveal the cruelty and clumsiness of governments, economies, and educational systems alike. This has been painfully clear in academia, where we either see administrations struggle to adapt at the speed that their students need and demand, or obstinately stand ground, waiting for the brief life cycle of the student body to turn over so that business can continue as usual. On rare occasions, I believe that art institutions can evolve more nimbly and sustainably when they actually adopt the experimental and critical thinking tools they expect their artists/students to use: deep listening, vulnerability, and sitting with ambiguity. For example, some of the artists in MFA Revisited ask that we reorient our relationship to the planet— this might start with first listening to the stories of stones and flowers. Others question how we communicate—perhaps through bemused meditations on alienation and desire, filtered through flickering monitors and mirrors. All of them ask that we take a little time to open up and be taught. I’m still tired, but I don’t want to sleep on this new class of artists—and there is no time like now to learn some lessons. 9

RENÉE RHODES Art Programs Manager Root Division I can’t imagine going to art school on Zoom. Everything about that seems off: the flatness; the lack of face-to-face dialogue; the loss of tactility, texture, and presence; the de-physicalization of your classmates into chat bubbles and oddly frozen faces. Despite the troubles, artists are good at carrying on and finding ways to create and share stories, even in imperfect conditions. Through this moment, we’ve seen a global pandemic, social unrest, and climate disaster that continually re-shapes everyday life in sweeping ways. The artists of MFA Revisited have kept at it nonetheless, creating a breadth of powerful new works—works that lean into the darkness, hurt, complexity, and potential of this moment. The works seen here are full of movement, texture, and big stories. I think of artists like Stuart Robertson and Christopher Williams, as they claim and create space for joy through elegant Black portraiture; or Margot Becker and Brenda Gonzalez who create intricately crafted textile forms, that act as amalgams of identity and time; or Shara Mays and Anna Sidana who wonder at the ghosts of racism and settlercolonialism, as embedded in familiar landscapes; or Lena Wright who unpacks the weight of Indigenous erasure in a handmade artist book of flags—a book that accordions out into a 17 foot long compendium of the 573 Indigenous tribes that have been colonized in the United States of America. The presence of this fills a room. This year’s exhibition, juried by Aay Preston-Myint, reminds us of the importance of creating space for tactility and physicality. The artists throughout this entire Archive maintain practices of presence in our ever-changing and uncertain world. We are happy to be able to provide space for this cohort of artists at Root Division, and we are thrilled to share these works with you.

Present as Absent, 2019, Oil on wood, 48 x 60 x 2.5 in.

BRETT AMORY Stanford University Installation, Painting

Eating is often regarded as a social activity, but for many, eating alone has lost its stigma as sad and lonely. With the growth of single-person households, solo dining is the new normal. Seeing this man having dinner in solitude made me reflect on my own experiences. Making the painting was a way to work through feelings of isolation and the ways in which when I eat in solitude, I become my own companion.

Raking Generations, 2020, Performance art video, Dimensions variable

CAZ AZEVEDO University of California, Davis New Genres

I am an interdisciplinary artist who explores the materiality of the land and body. The ceramic objects in this video are created through a process of generation, establishing their identity from the marks passed down. The movement is in juxtaposition of the reaction to the material. The performance remembers the ancestors who have worked to have their means raked by oppressors. Whose hands work the blood soaked soil today?

Virid, 2020, 3D rendered image, pigment ink printed on archival paper, 26 x 44 in.

BRIAN BARTZ University of California, Berkeley Art Practice

Brian Bartz is a new media artist whose work spatializes and politicizes technological advancement. In this work, he explores the ways new media technologies facilitate a turning inward of extractive neoliberal logics onto our own minds. He is interested in examining the ways in which both virtual and physical spaces are exploited to maximize productivity and growth, examining them through the science-fiction lens of “terraforming,” or the artificial fabrication of an environment conducive to life.

Daphne, 2020, Linen, cotton, silk, wool, alpaca, nylon, angora, cashmere, polyester, mohair, and metallic thread, handwoven on TC-2 Loom, 110 x 85 in.

MARGOT BECKER California College of the Arts Textiles

My work explores interconnectivity across place and time. Through the rendering of photo-collage in warp and weft, I erode perceived boundaries between past and present, between body and mineral. Daphne depicts the decomposition and transfiguration of matter through weave structures I have built to echo cells and molecules. I weave together artificial and natural fibers to acknowledge their individual material histories and cultural significance within the cacophony of human and non-human relationship. 15

Meat Rack 2, 2020, Ceramics, acrylic, wood, and aerosol paint, 56.25 x 20 x 18.75 in.

LUIS CASAS California College of the Arts Ceramics

My ceramic sculptures have started to reference the male body and its sexuality. This originated from the “performances” that gay men put on while working out. During these performances, they admire their hypermasculinity. While at the same time their eyes wander around the fitness facility to see who is looking at them while they work out, to see whom they can gaze at, and to try to catch the eye and attention of that individual.

Landlord, 2020, Video, Dimensions variable

CALUM CRAIK San Francisco State University Drawing, Film/Video, Installation, Photography, Sculpture, Social Practice

My interdisciplinary practice examines the effects of neoliberalism and how this ideology functions through a set of principles as well as through physical signifiers, material conditions, and social relationships. I use materials from physical sites which exemplify neoliberal ideals—containerized ports, tech-hubs, construction sites, private property, and related cultural items, such as down vests (the neoliberal worker’s “uniform”) and tech convention backpacks. I also make use of personal and familial items and narratives which reference labor, housing, and privatization policy. 17

Primordial Preservation, 2019, IV stand, IV bag, algae, air pump, tubing, water, 62 x 20 x 20 in.

JILLIAN CROCHET California College of the Arts Studio Practice

I use soft science—my own unscientific methods of failure and absurdity—to unravel thoughts about epigenetics and evolution. Containers used by the medical-industrial complex are futile attempts to control and preserve amorphous blobs of algae. Algae, my primordial ancestor, must know secrets buried in the swamp; hidden in its DNA is our shared epigenetic history. Maybe the gentle agitation of algae within an IV bag will caress extra-sensory understanding into consciousness.

Failed Attempts in the Act of Falling Up No. 4, 2020, Oil on panel, 48 x 36 in.

KARL DAUM San Francisco Art Institute Studio Art

Failed Attempts in the Act of Falling Up No. 4 is one in a series of self-portraits of my falling figure. I reproduce my body through light alone, using a rag reductively to find my form in that painted psychic space. Abstraction, suspension, and intense light all push the limits of identifying category. But if one searches long enough— even as the visual field optically quivers—eventually, what we expect to see reveals itself.

Returnal, 2020, Single-channel video installation, Dimensions variable

SANTINO GONZALES California College of the Arts Installation

At home in New Mexico’s high desert, ufology, adobe, & radio are touchstones embedded in the landscape. Together, these fields assemble a visual & sonic lexicon wherein I investigate cultural attitudes regarding fears of alienation & desires for connection. I’ve been thinking deeply about my childhood home. When I was last there, I built adobe bricks with dirt from my family’s backyard & brought them with me to California. I documented three of these bricks across the San Francisco Bay Area—each connected with a contact microphone to a radio transmitter.

The Collector, 2020, Nylon mesh netting, wood, assorted found objects, assorted placemats, assorted bathmats and rugs, flocking, and assorted fabrics, 56 x 31 x 37.75 in.

BRENDA GONZALEZ University of California, Davis Sculpture

My work investigates memory and the idea of Home. I strive to connect rose-colored nostalgia with elements of an imperfect present. I often use materials sourced from thrift stores and dollar stores that could easily be found in a low-income American home, like the one in East Los Angeles where I grew up. My work explores the idea of “making-do” or “getting by” by seeking to imbue deserted or nearly obsolete objects with new life.

Undefeated, 2020, Acrylic, oil, monotype, photocopy, paper, t-shirt collar, and picture frame on wood panel, 14.5 x 14 x 4 in.

MEGAN HINTON Mills College Drawing, Installation, Painting, Sculpture

Improvising with the materials of the painter, found or from my own making, a story is revealed and dismantled. Studio clothes, used lumber, photographs of paintings, castaway drawings, printmaking proofs, picture frames, apparel, and sporting goods are in assemblage. Ready-mades and ready-marks allude to the everyday world of materials while simultaneously gesturing towards the painterly process. This cobbling of material creates a disembodiment of the figure and its environment resulting in an overhauled approach to figurative painting and sculpture.

They Taught Me How We Are Built, 2020, Screen printed collage, 26 x 40 in.

WHITNEY HUMPHREYS San Francisco Art Institute Interdisciplinary

Combining print methods, drawing, collage, and sculpture, a conversation across connected histories of technologies is generated by the content and processes of my work—inter-dimensional mediations across analog and digital modes of making. My Gendered Machines project engages the socio-spiritual relationships attached to the mechanical, typically understood as objects of service or domination, worshiped or feared for the power they hold— oversimplifications that my work seeks to complicate. 23

Lullaby No. 14 18 October 2020 6:24 – 7:24 P.M. Paradise Beach, 2020, Installation performance, Dimensions variable

ORANG HUTAN University of California, Davis Installation

The Ode to Fire series of 14 installation performances is an offering back to the timeless and unchanging element of fire. After live campfire performances were discontinued due to COVID precautions, I projected past campfires onto a delicate fabric screen while singing songs and improvised melodies for the fire. A Dutch lullaby I sang to my baby while nursing, holds a special power and recalls the primal history and energy of fire.

A Cigarette, 2020, Single-channel HD video, 5:44 minutes

SARAH KANNINEN California College of the Arts Film/Video, Installation, Painting, Sculpture

Clowns carry a complex history and the fear of them is rooted in a fear of that which is human-like. The history of the clown’s shift, from family entertainment to horror icon, is my focus. I am interested in how the clown body changes the Human body. This rejection of the clown from appropriate society into an abject figure, mirrors humans rejection of their own body when faced with its abject nature.

Acoustic Energy Distribution of Chorus Howls, 2020, Step ladder, table, old cup, copy of a poem by Brecht, gouache, charcoal, graphite, and acrylic on board, 96 x 144 in.

A.R. (ALEXIS) KEINER San Francisco State University Drawing

The score-based drawing is made by using a movement vocabulary translated from how the body moves through the forest in winter. Through the enforced repetition of these movements, done while applying line to the panel, a topography emerges. This is not a specific landscape, but an expression of how the body moves through a specific landscape. This is not a drawing of how the snow looks, but how it feels.

Flashlights, 2019, Video and collected Amazon customer review videos for various flashlights, 5:00 minutes

NATHAN KOSTA San Francisco State University Photography

This film is comprised of collected customer review videos of flashlights, uploaded by customers to Amazon.com. Photography relies on illumination and in the case of these videos both the camera and the illumination are products purchased by the individual. When used for self-surveillance, visual data of private spaces is willingly submitted to Amazon, who analyzes and extracts all possible information from the video, then exploits that data to encourage further purchasing—reinforcing the relentless cycle of surveillance capitalism. 27

BREATH, 2020, Cast concrete, Redwood and ceramic, 9 x 17 x 7 in.

JEFF MAYLATH San Francisco Art Institute Sculpture

BREATH, represents our present time where the act of breathing is taken because of prejudice. BREATH is dangerous under the umbrella of a global respiratory pandemic. BREATH is an intake, exhaust, and a sign of relief as a result of certain election outcomes. BREATH uses cast concrete shipping packaging to solidify the fact that America celebrates the rich. BREATH has three supports representing the three legs of the A.C.A. still standing after attempts to dismantle it.

A Thousand in the Sea, 2021, Acrylic and oil on canvas, 48 x 72 x 2 in.

SHARA MAYS San Francisco Art Institute Painting

My practice is deeply rooted in autobiography, yet I immerse myself in the language of landscape. The Heap series is inspired by a family photo from the 1950’s of my dad as a toddler. In the photo, he is being held by an older cousin, while two other relatives stand alongside him. They are surrounded by a thicket of beautiful bushes. They feel safe to me, even though I know the world surrounding them in the South was not safe for black children. My paintings try to recreate a safe eden for my ancestors who are no longer alive, but who deserved transcendence from the limitations of racism.

Time Split Apart, 2020, Acrylic on Yupo paper, 26 x 20 in.

COLLIN MCEACHRAN San Francisco Art Institute New Genres, Painting, Photography

Collin’s work is informed by his background in critical geography, and broadly examines how human relationships with objects and technologies inform the ideologies that produce the spaces we inhabit. Working with acrylic on Yupo paper and using self-fabricated tools, he creates imagined landscapes that explore mark-making, plasticity, pattern, hyperobjects, and climate crisis through a psycho-geographical lens.

A Bigger Splash, 2020, UV print on PVC, 25 x 37 in.

COLLIN POLLARD San Francisco Art Institute Studio Art

A Bigger Splash is a digitally manipulated computer screenshot that has been collaged with photographs of acrylic paint and marker drawings. The painting depicts a found scene from home security camera footage which was uploaded to YouTube, and at its core, the work explores the ways in which our world is represented online through digital media, and how those images can potentially shift and change in meaning based on specific contexts.

The End is Where We Start From, 2020, Inkjet print, 9 x 22 in.

JESSICA RATTNER University of California, Davis Photography

I regard these images and the project from which they are taken as a self-portrait. The End Is Where We Start From is an attempt to tell the story of my own recent history, the record of an uneven journey through grief and isolation, into the unknown territory that exists beyond great loss.

Superbloom/Cut Flowers, 2020, Hand-cut archival inkjet prints, cellophane bags, and postcards in rotating rack, 54 x 180 x 18 in.

ALANA RIOS San Jose State University Photography

Iconic landscape images are everywhere—from souvenirs sold in National Parks to calendars on walls—they stake a claim in our psyche. The craving for superlative views is fed by social media influencers who seek out growing singular phenomena like Super Blooms that bring destructive volumes of visitors to small towns in California. Superbloom is a large panorama from which the flowers are cut away and photographs of the packaged Cut Flowers are sold as postcards. 33

A Negro and An American (Too Kingz), 2020, Aluminum, earth, acrylic, enamel, glitter foam, wrapping paper, and paper on wood, 48 x 48 in.

STUART ROBERTSON Stanford University Art Practice

In my world, Black bodies are weatherproof, conductive, magnetic, percussive, and indestructible. This intimate, yet quasi-anonymous, portrait complicates concepts of recognition and identity while embodying bling, shine, and glow to highlight the conspicuous consumption of Black bodies, resist erasure, and illuminate the duality of being coveted and discarded. T hese lustrous figures offer unusual interactions with images of Blackness and invoke metaphors of the Black body that p osition skin as more than an indicator of race.

Intangible Embrace, 2019, Douglas fir trunk, fragmented coastal redwood trunk, the artist’s body, and photographic print on chiffon, 36 x 36 x 36 in.

REBECCA SEXTON San Francisco Art Institute Studio Art

Both body and land are perpetually violated without due regard for their respective agencies. Through this interwoven relationship, I explore a form of understanding with the land, while also coming to terms with my particular positionality as a descendant of colonizers and loggers. In asking what it would take to fully recognize the debts my family owes, my work positions the land (and our relationships) as sites and participants in remembrance, resistance, and resolve.

Tangled Cotton, 2020, Oil on canvas, 30 x 30 x 2 in.

ANNA SIDANA San Francisco Art Institute Painting

Cotton is a symbol of my childhood. Memories of playing in the fields of Rajasthan, India, the backdrop of my family farm are marked by my family’s devastation during the boom and the bust of the great depression in British colonial India. Conceivably one of the first global commodities, cotton continues to have an emotional and physical foundation in the persecution of humanity. Gestural layers are rendered against restrained washes and mellow and harsh textures.

Memory Map I, 2020, Archival print, 48 x 144 in.

SAM SOON California College of the Arts Film/Video, Installation, Photography, Conceptual & Information Arts

I grew up watching the hills leading to Half Moon Bay, marvelling at how they would change from day to day. I think memory is a bit like that—it’s slippery, shifting and morphing through time and space, evolving with experience, and fading away with age. Using distortion, reconstruction, and collage, I visualize memory and its indeterminacy by mapping alternate relationships to specific moments that break with the traditionally static view of images.

Don’t Quit, 2021, Digital print, 6 x 6 in.

MILES STEMP San Francisco Art Institute Conceptual & Information Arts, Motivational

Don’t quit. Keep on going. It’s not over. You got this. Just one more. Work. Persist. It’s not over. Hang in there. Keep on keeping on. Keep up. Your day will come. It gets better. It’s not over. Don’t stop trying. Don’t stop hoping. Don’t Stop. Don’t give up. Go on. It ain’t over. Come on. Never give up. More. It is possible. You can do this. Believe in yourself. Hope.

My Dress in December, 2020, Digital photographic print, 24 x 20 in.

HANNAH SUBOTNICK Stanford University Art Practice

Snow falling on a black gown.

Lift Every Voice, Part One, 2020, Oil on canvas with copper/gold leaf, 30 x 24 in.

CHRISTOPHER WILLIAMS San Francisco Art Institute Drawing, Painting

Black Joy is like a heartbeat. Never bitter, it is sweeter than the blackest of cherries or the richest of chocolates. It’s like a steady climb or an out of frame kiss. It is a moment that is magical and void of being Black, judged, and discriminated against. My joy, my Black Joy may not be the same as the next.

Origins, 2020, Cardstock, Strathmore charcoal paper, and book cloth, 10 x 3 x 204 in.

LENA WRIGHT San Francisco Art Institute Studio Art

Origins is a flag book that holds the flags of the 573 indigenous tribes that have been colonized by the United States of America. It offers an insight on how Native American histories are often blurred together into one pan-indian story, while still demonstrating the enormity of those individuals as it unfolds.

Takeo’s Hearing, 2020, Ink pen on paper, 36 x 60 in.

JANE YUAN San Francisco Art Institute Studio Arts

This drawing is inspired by Lian Hearn’s book “Across the Nightingale Floor,” where the protagonist Takeo possesses the ability to hear very well. He is able to hear everything that is going on inside of his household. My work draws from Japanese myths and literature. I work with large drawings on paper, hoping viewers can feel interested in this myth. In my work there is a suggestion of culture, identity, and tradition.

Reality Check, 2020, Screenprint on mirrored Plexiglass, 24 x 16 in.

JASMINE (MENGJIAO) ZHANG San Francisco Art Institute Photography, New Genres

In the light of the current political environment in the US, this reality mirror was made at first to question my own existence with the camera—the original sentence is “smile, you’re on camera.” Then, I realized I made this mirror to alert people/audience who look at the mirror to the idea of unquestionable facts of governmental surveillance and the ambivalent feeling of being in the US during this period of time.

INDEX Brett Amory. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Caz Azevedo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Brian Bartz. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 Margot Becker. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Luis Casas. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Calum Craik. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Jillian Crochet. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18 Karl Daum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 Santino Gonzales. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 Brenda Gonzalez. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21 Megan Hinton. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22 Whitney Humphreys . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Orang Hutan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24 Sarah Kanninen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 A.R. (Alexis) Keiner. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 Nathan Kosta. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27

Jeff Maylath. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 Shara Mays. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Collin McEachran. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 Collin Pollard. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 Jessica Rattner. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Alana Rios. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Stuart Robertson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34 Rebecca Sexton. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 Anna Sidana. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 Sam Soon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Miles Stemp. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38 Hannah Subotnick. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 Christopher Williams. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 Lena Wright. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 Jane Yuan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42 Jasmine (Mengjiao) Zhang. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43

STAFF Michelle Mansour

Executive Director

Renée Rhodes

Art Programs Manager

Michael Gabrielle

Education Programs Manager

Phi Tran

Marketing & Design Manager

Carissa Diaz

Installations & Site Manager

ChiChai Mateo

Development & Programs Assistant

Rachel Welles

Operations Assistant

CATALOG PRODUCTION Phi Tran & Michael Nguyen

Graphic Design

ABOUT ROOT DIVISION Root Division is a visual art non-profit in San Francisco that connects creativity and community through a dynamic ecosystem of arts education, exhibitions, and studios. Root Division’s mission is to empower artists, foster community service, inspire youth, and enrich the Bay Area through engagement in the visual arts. The organization is a launching pad for artists, a stepping-stone for educators and students, and a bridge for the general public to become involved in the arts. Root Division is supported in part by a plethora of individual donors and by grants from National Endowment for the Arts, California Arts Council, Grants for the Arts, San Francisco Arts Commission: Community Investments, Phyllis C. Wattis Foundation, Kimball Foundation, Walter & Elise Haas Fund, Fleishhacker Foundation, Zellerbach Family Foundation, Violet World Foundation, and Bill Graham Memorial Fund.

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