The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center (2009), part four: post-Demise

FROM THE ARCHIVE: The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center (2009), part four

Read part one here. Read part two here. Read part three here.

Demise reception and event photographs courtesy Tony Smith. Pictured above, from left to right: Samantha Hill, Faheem Majeed, Theaster Gates, Leroy Bach, travis, Tony Smith. 

As per our last post, we now conclude this series with the 2009 exhibition of Demise of the South Side Community Art Center, the culmination of Faheem's early thesis work of the same year (where you may read the raw text to here on the blog in the previous parts linked above). A foundational project within Faheem's practice and thinking, please enjoy these early photographs of Demise's exhibition reception by Tony Smith, Faheem's post-mortem article released a year later in AREA Chicago, and additional material in relation to the project as we conclude our look back to The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center. (View Demise's exhibition installation images in the last post here). 

"Life After Demise" by Faheem Majeed in AREA Chicago issue #10, 2010, from the archive. Raw text below:

Over the past year, AREA Chicago's advisory board has been discussing how to adapt and change our basic organizational structure. Starting in June we will be testing a division of responsibilities among a larger core group while we also maintain and expand the role of volunteers. In order to get to this point, AREA's advisors and friends had to face the possibility that AREA would come to an end: the old structure could no longer be sustained. As we undertook this process we became interested in starting a conversation about what happens when it's time for institutions to come to an end. When, why, and how do they do it? Alternatively: how do they decide to change, adapt, or recommit? To start off this conversation we asked Faheem Majeed, Acting Executive Director of the South Side Community Art Center, to talk about his recent exhibition project, The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center, which asked artists, audiences, and community members to imagine the end of the Center's existence-as a way to reinvigorate it and address long-standing issues. (Full disclosure: AREA's most recent issue release, in November 2009, took place at the closing event of the Demise show.) —Rebecca Zorach

When I was looking at doing a thesis project focused on the SSCAC, there was a lot of love and anger at the same time, about the burdens — crosses for lack of a better word — that I had to bear within the institution of the South Side Community Art Center. I had started doing conceptual work with the institution as the subject of the work. I would take things out of the building, re-present them in different ways, shoot video of myself setting up the space, or switching things around. Things that were administrative work, day-to-day work, framing them as actual performances. I was addressing generational issues that are within the organization. And thinking about these issues I realized that I had to destroy the institution. It was a love and a lashing out. And also a realization that people need to take responsibility. Everyone that I know knows this space. So it didn't really make sense why it wasn't getting the attention it deserved, it wasn't getting the resources it deserved, why people weren't taking up this banner, this fight.

    The idea was to take it away, or to pose the threat of taking it away, with the thought that then people would value it more. So that's when I came up with the idea of The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center.

    The intent of the exhibition was to bring a group of artists into the space to discuss these two questions: "what is the role of a culturally-specific institution in changing today's society?" and "what is to be lost and gained from destruction?" — destroying, or taking things apart. I posed these two questions, and reached out to artists I had come across in my travels — some of them were artists that had been involved with the center for 13 or so years, some were new artists who had just come through the door a month before, others were dealing with similar issues in other communities. We had a really charged two-hour conversation: we had a moderator, and I stepped back and became an artist. From that, we came up with the topics of the show, and artists were supposed to create or bring things in based on the conversation we'd had. There were installations, sculptures or paintings in response to the conversation, and a series of performances.

    The night of the opening, a lot of the board members became concerned that I was allowing people to go into the basement. This is a big deal for them. For Samantha Hill's piece, she interviewed a board member who was a former director, Doug Williams. Doug is a beautiful storyteller. He'll suck you in and you'll be there all day listening to him tell a story. She recorded him talking about the space, talking about the basement, talking about living in the basement at one point, talking about Marion Perkins and Gordon Parks and all these individuals who used to frequent the basement. And Samantha put it next to the state it is now, with the intention to draw attention to the space, a call for help, or to say, "hey, these are some issues than can be easily fixed." It was a very beautiful piece, it was piped into these old radios, down in the basement, and the sound would come in and out — ".... remember back in the seventies... psshhhhh..." It was serene, it was haunting. Beautiful, if you just sat down there.

    But, talk about your unwritten rules. That was something I was not supposed to do. It's like going into your grandmother's house: you know there are certain places you don't let company see. But for me it's all about questioning those things. Those things aren't written down. So let's draw attention to the lack of a policy. If these are going to be rules we need to start setting policies on the things that we do.

    For some people, running the institution is about always putting the positive image forward — always wearing the suit. I just have a different strategy. When I bring funders in I bring them to places like the basement — the most vulnerable parts of the institution. At the same time I show them the value of fixing those vulnerable parts. Different people have different ways of doing things, and that's where the clash happens. Some people say, "you project success, and then things happen." I don't have a problem saying we are successful in these areas, but then this is something we want to fix. What happens when those things are brushed away or hidden? They never get addressed because there's no attention drawn to them, so then they get worse. And that's something that happens not only in this institution but in a lot of institutions.

    So, some of the feedback! I'm still bearing the repercussions of some of those decisions. The intent was to create an institutional mirror on the organization but also on the community — whatever that means. We throw that word out there. South Side Community Art Center: who is the community of the SSCAC? Has it changed, is it the same?

    Let me say this: I love the members of my board. They have loved and supported the Center, some for more years than I have been alive. They are a working board and have kept the Center open and operating when there was very little support. They do the best they can with an overwhelming amount of work that needs to get done. Before they hired me for this role, they ran the institution. And just like all families, we love one another, and sometimes we agree and sometimes we disagree. They see the Center from one perspective — as a part of their history, their legacy, and I see it from another — as an artist-administrator who sees the opportunities change can bring. So there was a clash. I was very upfront about what I was doing the night of the opening, but... people were a little miffed. They said, "I don't want people in the basement. It's not a good place for them to be." And I had to stand fast, and say "No, that's the piece. That's how it's going to be. It's my show, and we've never censored artists." Never, no matter how dramatic it was.

    The next day I have all these meetings with the board. I knew what was going to happen: it was part of the performance. I was trying to stir the pot, get people excited about the space. So people were saying things like "the community's upset." 

    And yes, I had gotten emails from people saying "what's the deal with this Demise, what are you trying to say, has the building burned down?" I had sent out flyers with a black and white image of the building on fire, and handed them out like handbills, and I sent them out to students, and said print them off and just hand them out. It created a platform for conversation; it brought a lot of interest into the space. We easily had 300-400 people over the course of a month.

    So the exhibition raised questions like "what is community?" I heard from the board: "The community's upset, they're really mad." But the community's in the space — they've been in the space. What community are you talking about? You mean the people three, four blocks away? They're not in the space now and they weren't in the space before. One of the things that we talked about was how do we reach out to that community and is that a community we want to reach out to? Or are you talking about the artist community? There's a lot of different artist communities. Are you talking about the upper crust of the black community — that used to frequent this space? Or are you talking about your immediate circle?

    It was even said by a board member at one point: "I don't know who I'm talking to. It feels like you're performing right now." They said, "I can't tell if you're being an artist right now or an administrator.” It was a really good moment. I just laughed and said Man, I don't know either. This is a place where it's kind of weird: I'm the artist, but I'm also the institution.

    So it definitely created some dissension. Which I still deal with today. I still stand by my practice and what I did: We had prolific programs as part of the show. Angela Jackson did her first book, and Carolyn Rodgers came and read poetry.¹ It was packed, like 80 people in the room on a Wednesday night. Which is unheard of in this space. Barbara Jones-Hogu showed her first new print in 25 years. The spirit of rebellion and revolution was alive in the space. Looking back at a lot of the practices that were done back in the 60s and 70s, I like to bring them into my practice; I sometimes feel like I grew up in the wrong decade.

    But I think the institution needs to move forward, and that's the question — am I projecting what I think the institution needs rather than listening to what the institution wants? And from listening, the Demise show is what I came up with. It was an artistic way of going about things. I don't always do things that dramatically, obviously. A lot of this is about grantwriting, putting infrastructure into place. This was just the more glamorous way of showcasing these issues. And a lot of people gravitated toward it. 

1. Noted Black Arts Movement poet Carolyn Rodgers read with fellow writer Angela Jackson on October 7, 2009 at the SCAC. She died on April 2, 2010 at the age of 69.

Images of Angela Jackson/Carolyn Rodgers poetry reading as part of Demise's programming on October 7, 2009.

Images of Inside Out by artists D Menace and Select Inverse, a simultaneous exhibition hosted in the Center's upstairs gallery as part of Demise's programming.

FLUiD performance as part of Demise's programming, video by David Weathersby.

Images of Blair Thomas and Company's puppet show Hard Headed Heart: A Chicago Neighborhood Tour as part of Demise's programming.

Images of the South Side Community Art Center on fire in popular television show Chicago Fire, 2013; unable to make it to the live shooting of the show, Faheem had snagged these screenshots, accessing the episode (via a shady site as seen above) as part of his research in contrast to Demise's imagery of the Center on fire, see Demise's exhibition handbill in part three and Faheem's 2009 installation Two Paintings in part one.  

 

The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center (2009), part three: The Center remains alive

FROM THE ARCHIVE: The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center (2009), part three

Read part one here. Read part two here.

Top: exhibition handbill: "The Center remains alive and will continue into the future with your continued support." Bottom: gallery view images of Demise at the SSCAC courtesy Tony Smith. View more exhibition images at the end of this post.

As we conclude Faheem's 2009 thesis text on the blog, you will find here the final passages to Part I of The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center as well as be introduced to Part II, the culmination of this project which can be understood as a performance piece in the form of an exhibition at the Center, the direct output of roundtable meetings on the continued discussion of the Center's destruction (see Appendix XVII and clips from Faheem's multi-channel recordings of the meetings below).

Top: clip from first Demise Roundtable meeting prior to Deva Woodly stepping in as facilitator; Faheem begins the discussion with his being "forced into facilitation" and would invite Woodly for the final meeting. When reflecting on these recordings with Faheem, it had been important to note that these Demise meetings exist in parallel to the institutional board meeting; I found the idiosyncratic similarities particularly amusing and endearing here. Bottom: clip of introductions from second Demise Roundtable meeting with Deva Woodly. Sitting counter-clockwise from Faheem: Deva Woodly, Dan S. Wang, travis, Theaster Gates, Tony Smith, Patrick Rivers, Samantha Hill, Dale Washington, Sebastian Alvarez, and Ni’Ja Whitson, with Yashua Klos remotely present on a laptop.

Second Demise Roundtable meeting, the same conversation over two cameras/alternate perspective.

Inviting guests to the entirety of the Center's space ('...the night of the opening, a lot of the board members became concerned that I was allowing people to go into the basement...'*), Demise culminated in a group exhibition alongside extensive programming, an eclectic array of participants including artists, writers, adjacent administrators, adjacent community members, all of varying age, background, discipline, and relationship to the Center. While confusion ensued across the Center's board upon the exhibition's opening ('...yes, I had gotten emails from people saying "what's the deal with this Demise, what are you trying to say, has the building burned down?"'*), the hallways of the Center grew packed; by way of a sort of public autopsy, a certain version of the SSCAC appeared to indeed have met its' end upon a certain kind of scrutiny, a scrutiny which equally operated as a careful and sentimental celebration.

*Excerpts from Faheem's post-mortem article Life After Demise published in AREA #10, to come in the next post on 01.29.2026.

Please enjoy the remainder of Faheem's thesis text followed by exhibition images taken by Tony Smith of Demise at the Center. Much more remains for part two of Part II to TDOTSSCAC.

Post-Demise video by David Weathersby.

Provenance
A benefit of my role at the SSACAC is that I have access to rich cultural resources. One of these is the Center’s collection of 250 - 350 works of art dating back to the 1930’s. One of my responsibilities is the care of this collection. This collection of artwork is a major part of the organization’s history. In its original design, the WPA Art Centers were not conceived to be collecting institutions and thus the building was not designed to store and care for numerous works of art. But somewhere along the way, the organization began to house and collect works of art donated or left behind by artists who were associated with the institution. As I began to take on more responsibilities in the organization, I realized that there was no organized system to how the works were collected or stored. 

In “Provenance Installation” I appropriated objects from the SSCAC and curated them for a presentation within the University of Illinois at Chicago School of Art and Design. I utilized an old coach, 5 lamps, and 4 artworks from the SSCAC collection to create a discourse about access, exposure, and significance of artists associated with the SSCAC (See Appendix XIV). 

In my curating of the various items, I displayed the selected paintings backwards. The backs of each painting show evidence of each of the works’ provenance. Along with notations with date and titles, these markings include identification cards from the WPA Federal Works Agency and show stickers from the Museum of Contemporary Art as well as art auction and donation information (See Appendix XV).

By exhibiting the artwork with the images facing the wall, I force the viewer to research the provenance of the artists and the selected works. At the same time, because of the gallery-like setting that the installation is displayed in, a conflict is suggested. For some this conflict might be the exclusion of various artists from the cannon of mainstream art. But the intention in my curation is to refuse access or permission to the viewer of the artwork, by doing so a reversal is made in the power structure. The viewer and the gallery both become implicated in their complacency in the art they choose to view and exhibit. 

“… I have to ask, whose standard of “game” are we trying to be accountable to? I think it has to be a complex, challenging standard – not simply measuring whether we get to where the white folks are.”
 

- Ni’Ja Whitson

(See Appendix XVII)

 

The presence of the couch references the dependence on interior design and home decor, I have noticed in my time working with SSCAC artists. Many of the artists rely on the selling of their work for income with limited support from other means of employment. This can sometimes have a detrimental effect on the artists’ practices as they feel the need to create what many term as “couch art” or art designed specifically to fit in with the interiors of the collectors. “Couch Art” has been limiting, but necessary for the survival of many practicing artists. This environment also limits the growth of an artist while also limiting the exposure of a collector--a vicious cycle that ultimately limits the expansion of African Americans into the realm of contemporary art. 

“I’m not that interested in producing work just so the black middle class can have pretty things in their home. Destruction provides a chance to start over. Resurrection requires demise, but that’s not the end.”
 

- Patrick Rivers

 (See Appendix XVII)

 
Similar to the conflict with the canon of art, “Provenance Installation” highlights conflicts with the practice of making “Couch Art”. It demonstrates a refusal and protest of this practice of codling and limiting artists’ practices.
The five lamps refer to the role of the SSCAC with the previously mentioned ideas. As a haven for many of the artists that these ideas effect, the SSCAC is also considered a fringe arts organization. Despite its support of hundreds of artists, it is still considered unknown and insignificant in the eyes of the canon. With few resources the organization has consistently worked to support and highlight these artists.
 
The works used in the installation include:

-Frank Neal (WPA artist), “Two Figures”, watercolor on paper 1941

-Jeff Donaldson (AfroCobra artist), “A La Shango” gouache on corrugated board 1969

-Charles Davis “Back Street” oil on canvas board 1940

-Tony Wade “Miles Davis” pastel and acrylic (year unknown)

 
Success and Failure
Much of my work is focused on highlighting the failures and breakdowns both within the SSCAC and in its immediate community.

In describing my work, I often use the words “failed” or “failures”. In creating work that physically and conceptually breaks down, I feel that the work becomes more relevant to the viewers/participants and my institution. Failure is a necessary step in evolution and often breakdowns within institutions are “swept under the rug” and ignored or hidden from the eyes of the public instead of leveraged for future success.

By my appropriating pieces of the institution, I am publicly calling attention to ailments that plague the SSCAC.  Similar to an emergency flare, my work functions as a distress signal to bring attention to a worthy, but faltering institution. This approach is very similar to artist Fred Wilson whose practice involves visiting institutions and appropriating artifacts from their collections to comment on institutional practice or climate. But unlike Wilson who critiques institutions with which he is not associated on a long-term basis, as an artist and administrator within the SSCAC, I ultimately run the risk of implicating myself as a contributing factor to the organizational dysfunction. This is a risk I am willing to take. It is my strategy as an administrator is to leverage the historical assets of the institution, collaborate with other organizations to further our mission, and to end the cycle of the day-to-day approach to management. 

“A ritual death can cleanse and clarify. The question is: how can people come together to reconstruct? Does it have to be people from the SS {south side] or can it include people from all over Chicago or the world? The Center could be a place to seed group action.”
 

- Samantha Hill

 (See Appendix XVII)

The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center
In my dismantling of the South Side Community Art Center through institutional critique, my ultimate goal is to propel the institution forward. The series of work I have created have moved from the SSCAC’s surrounding community, to the internal issues plaguing the institution, to appropriation as a catalyst for connecting the institution, not only to the immediate community, but also to a broader art community. In my work as director of the SSCAC, this culminates with moving beyond my previous attempts at curation to full collaboration with a range of artists and community activists who are familiar with the SSCAC in some way. The next step in this series of work is a group exhibition to be held at the SSCAC that focuses on the metaphorical demise of the organization. Through facilitated conversations at the SSCAC, I have assembled a group of artists who still strongly believe in the relevance of the SSCAC and other culturally specific institutions (See Appendix XVI). The goal of the exhibit is, not only to highlight the issues within the SSCAC, both physical and systemic, but also to collaborate on ways to invite the public to engage with the institution and be a part of its rebirth “from the ashes”. This group seeks to communicate that recognizing and acknowledging an organization’s flaws is unproductive unless individuals are willing to take an active part in rebuilding (See Appendix XVII).

“Destruction definitely needs to be related to construction and to resurrection. It’s dual action, a double move. You can’t focus too much on the demise, you have to also excite people about the rebirth.”
 

- Sebastian Alvarez

 (See Appendix XVII)

 
However, it is my long term goal to expand upon this initial concept of dismantling the SSCAC to broaden the scope to include other culturally specific organizations. Over the past decade, the African-American community has seen a decline in the prominence of its culturally specific institutions. In what many are calling a “post-racial” era where race is no longer an issue, many cultural institution leaders still see a strong need for the kind of support and leadership these institutions can provide. It is a challenge to our community to continue to engage with these organizations and reclaim the concept of community support. 

“I think that what we do must make a lasting difference. The neighbors of the center must be permitted to take a bit of ownership of the place.”
 

- travis

(See Appendix XVII)

 
Specifically, my goal has been to find a way to utilize my work as a catalyst for community action. Through “The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center” exhibition and related programming, it is our hope that our commentary creates an outcry from the Bronzeville community of art collectors, artists and residents that ultimately translates into action.


“This is my SOS to bring the family back.”
 

- Faheem Majeed

 (See Appendix XVII)

Appendixes XIV

    

 

Appendixes XVII
 

The Demise of the South Side Community Art Center 

Roundtable Notes March 29, 2009

 

Participants

Sebastian Alvarez
Theaster Gates
Samantha Hill 
Yashua Klos
Faheem Majeed
Patrick Rivers
Tony Smith
travis 
Dan Wang
Dale Washington
Ni’Ja Whitson
 
Facilitator: Deva Woodly

Questions under consideration

1. What does it mean to destroy? What can be lost or gained from destruction?

 

2. What is the role of culturally specific institutions (such as the Southside Community Art Center) in dismantling and rebuilding today’s society? 

Discussion

Dale: Sentiment can’t be an impediment to change. When I think of the first question, and think about synonyms for the word “destroy” I think it’s too negative for what we’re talking about. 
 
Tony: Right, I looked up “destroy” and the synonyms are ‘ruin’ and ‘cripple’.  That’s not what I mean, I’m talking about a deconstruction followed by a reconstruction. I want to take down the way that art practice has developed at SSCAC – that is, for commercial purposes – I don’t think it’s what the center used to be about or, at least, what it should be about today.
 
Patrick: I just don’t think the South Side (SS) has to be like the North Side (NS) and I get tired of a lot of the SS striving, which is imitative. We have thrived down here despite the NS. I’m not that interested in producing work just so the black middle class can have pretty things in their home. Destruction provides a chance to start over.  Resurrection requires demise, but that’s not the end. 
 
Travis: I don’t know the way the SSCAC was. Maybe the original purpose of the SSCAC was to make pretty pictures for the black elite. I would love to see the charter or other founding documents. 
 
Tony: I used to think the Center was created for African Americans in particular, so it used to make me a little mad when other folks would use the space. But then I saw the original paperwork and saw it was intended to be a refuge for artists in general. That made me feel more open to other artists using the space. In the end, art is global and it’s better to include rather than exclude. 
 
Yashua: My impression is that this institution wasn’t originally set up to be a commercially prosperous position. It’s been about maintenance rather than resurrection or re-invention. Growth has not really been the focus.
 
Theaster: Faheem decided to marry the Old Guard, but also to bring something new. He has another vision, which involves contesting the old ways. There are now opportunities for resurrection, but it implies a death. You can never be sure the thing that’s resurrected is the thing that was. There’s a risk. 
 
Sebastian: It’s funny because at this moment, I feel nostalgia for something that I don’t know, but on the other hand I feel privileged not to know so that I’m not limited. Destruction definitely needs to be related to construction and to resurrection. It’s dual action, a double move. You can’t focus too much on the demise, you have to also excite people about the rebirth.
 
Samantha: A ritual death can cleanse and clarify. The question is: how can people come together to reconstruct? Does it have to be people from the SS of can it include people from all over Chicago or the world? The Center could be a place to seed group action. 
 
Dan: This dual action does not happen quickly, it’s not a quick process. The destruction and reconstruction should involve a process of cultivation. Destruction as a creative act requires a positive action to fill the void that ruin leaves, that death creates. We have to find some way to hold each other accountable to this new vision and really raise the level of the game. 
 
Ni’Ja: Where are the spaces for that kind of daring, changing, art practice? How do we have access to those resources? And, I have to ask, whose standard of “game” are we trying to be accountable to? I think it has to be a complex, challenging standard – not simply measuring whether we get to where the white folks are. 
 
Also, I just wonder what we are going to do when we are enacting destruction on this space? Usually destruction is a fated event, not something people enact. 
 
Theaster: I wonder if one mission could satisfy all of our varying inroads to art? What Ni’Ja said about the “complicated” standard is really important and it should include space for us to demonstrate and articulate our own motion and trajectory. Each of us needs to have a context. 
 
Travis:  Well, are we talking about reconstructing or re-contextualizing? What do we want? What does the center want? I’m worried that un-contextualized means marginalized. I definitely want to impact people who live around the center.  I come from a Mississippi tradition and we are raised that the older you get the more responsible you have to be. In MS, you belong to everyone, and I want to bring a bit of that wisdom to this. 
 
Theaster: I think this could be about destruction by exposure. That is, by exposing folks in the community to the center we would ‘destroy’ it in a way, at least in the way it has existed thus far. This exposure might show whether something has met a natural end or whether it just needs to be wiped off and polished up. 
 
Tony: If you think about the idea of a funeral, it brings people together to be made aware of the life of the honored dead. 
 
Dan:  I feel like the lack of money to do things plagues the black arts scene in particular, but I think that’s a function of non monetary assets that black artists may not feel like they have like credibility, resources, and prestige. Positionality can create security or insecurity. 
 
Travis: I think that what we do must make a lasting difference. The neighbors of the center must be permitted to take a bit of ownership of the place. 
 
Faheem: I feel like we really have to talk about class.
 
Travis: Art for art’s sake is not a value in the black community. Who says we should make art using Eurocentric methods and tools. Who’s to say what art is? 
 
Sebastian: There is a part of this that may require a destruction of our own personal beliefs and boundaries. It’s a chance for us to do that. What are we protecting? 
 
Yashua: Okay, so maybe this demise should be about giving this space back to the community in some way. What does that mean? 
 
Tony: Part of our missions has to be to create community. We have to give people a reason to participate – to come inside and stay.
 
Sebastian: We have to ask how art improves our lives and also, how the community gains from the art. 
 
Travis: We can redefine what performance means. We can give a black kid a microphone. I’m doing this project about Negro Noise - we could celebrate that. The point is, acknowledgement makes people feel freer and it also makes them less likely to be/do antisocial things. 
 
Ni’Ja: I think we might think about this as a kind of Queerness. It’s not just about sexuality, but a marker of difference. We could try to respond and reconstruct, avoiding trading in one paradigm for another. We need to always be recalibrating and asking ourselves how we remain relevant in the lives of the community and them in our lives as artists. If we’re doing our job that’s always changing. 
 
Theaster: There is a burden of history. It’s important to acknowledge what has come before. We must respect the old guard and reassure them, it’s in good hands.
 
Sebastian:  We can make this into a house for artists to work with the community. What about a garden? People need to feel the center is an inviting space, a space that makes people want to come in and stick around for a while. We have to lead by example – become a flower with fragrance.
 
Travis: We can use the external spaces – bring people to the family before we bring them home. It’s a way of creating community. We can plant and play. 
 
Faheem: this is my SOS to bring the family back. 
 
Sebastian: What we do should inspire people to fight for this place. We have to embed the possibility of resurrection into the call for demise. 
 
Ni’Ja & Theaster: argue back and forth about the relative merits of the production of myth as opposed to the spreading of a lie. What’s the difference? Is it merely a matter of method/execution? 

Facilitator’s note
 
During this conversation, it has come to light that whatever form the Demise of the SSCAC takes, it ought to include the following elements: 
 

1)    There must be respect for what has come before

 

2)    There must be the courage to ask what this community needs in an art center and the willingness to risk sole propriety of SSCAC

 

3)    There must be a re-definition of what the center is/does   

 

4)    The art practice featured must take the things learned from asking/risking/redefining into account

 

5)    This re-evaluation ought not be a one-time thing, but instead apart of a continuous process of accountability

Demise of the South Side Community Art Center, 09/18 - 11/01/2009

Sebastian Alvarez, Theaster Gates, Samantha Hill, Yashua Klos, Faheem Majeed, Patrick Rivers, Tony Smith, travis, Dan S. Wang, and Ni'Ja Whitson. All photographic documentation courtesy of Tony Smith. 

Original participant invitation letter; the letter itself later functioned as the exhibition's curatorial statement.

Sebastian Alvarez

Installation set like a landscape painting; found terrain and objects from within and outside of the SSCAC.

Faheem Majeed

Piano Push (context for this work can be found in part two here), A Great Day in Bronzeville 2005 photograph by John Moye.

 

Yashua Klos

Banner, letter to the South Side Community Art Center.

Faheem Majeed and Yashua Klos

Cheese, flour on blueprint as per proposed sketch. Genuine concern for the exhibiting of cheese attracting mice was apparently expressed to Faheem from a surrounding member of the Center.

Tony Smith

Photo abstractions, negation of the conventional frame.

Faheem Majeed

Plaster cast of Margaret Burroughs' block print on gift wrapping paper.

Dan S. Wang

Samantha Hill beside Dan S. Wang

Wang's print appeared to have remained up in the basement long after the exhibit, absorbed into the Center's backdrop.

Samantha Hill

Interview with former board member and director Doug Williams on memories and histories of the SSCAC's basement, broadcast over multiple FM radios, basement of the SSCAC. Faheem guides a tour to the basement during the reception.

travis

Theaster Gates

Performance as Black Monks of Mississippi with Leroy Bach on piano. Video by David Weathersby.

Additional imagery, videos, and ephemera to arrive on 01/29/2026 as part two to Part II of TDOTSSCAC.