BmoreArt

The following interview was edited for clarity.

Can you speak a bit to your background in the arts?

I often get asked, are you an artist? Typically the people that ask me that are thinking about visual arts. I can’t draw a stick. I can’t draw to save my life. But I was a singer. I’ve been a poet, I’ve acted, I’ve modeled. I do graphic design. In a very real sense, yes, I’m an artist. 

My father has worked in theater for over fifty years. He’s been in Local 1 in New York for almost thirty years now. Most recently, he was the head carpenter at The Longacre Theatre on Broadway—he just retired. When I was eleven, he was the first African American stagehand to work for the Mississippi Coast Coliseum and he used to take me with him to work. That was my first interaction with the behind-the-scenes world of arts and culture. 

My mother painted. She was a vocalist. She sang in a choir. The first play I remember her taking me to was Timbuktu! with Eartha Kitt and it was fascinating to me… But my mother worked in telecommunications for most of her life. What she created was for her; she didn’t pursue it professionally. She should have. 

I don’t have an MFA nor am I classically trained in any form, but I relate to artists. That’s a large part of what I bring to this role. I also understand the experience of not being able to access the arts. Or afford that access, even when you are, maybe especially when you are a creative person.

What was your first day on the job like?

The announcement of the board selecting me was the first Tuesday in February. But I didn’t start until March 15. My first day on the job was actually that day they selected me, that’s when the work started. We had to go and make the case for the last tranche of funds from the city to be released and the work that we had to put in to get there was… I hit the ground running.

My most memorable moment was sitting down and having a conversation with one of our toughest critics on the City Council, which was Ryan Dorsey.

I sat with him in Arcola, a coffee shop in his district. And they make these Danish tea cakes. He was adamant and very passionate around what his challenges were with the organization. And at the end of that conversation, he ended up taking a selfie with me because I ride the bus. Why that factors into my most memorable pre-first day on the job is that, afterward, he voted for us to get our funding. And that was the moment I felt, okay, I think we’re gonna be alright. That was a huge hurdle to get over.

For those who may not know, how would you describe the role or mission of BOPA? And does it need to be rethought?

BOPA’s role is to engage audiences, locally, regionally, and nationally, in understanding Baltimore as an arts hub in a cultural mecca. Our job is to promote culturally based tourism and there are a number of ways that we do that. We are the events producer for the city. We provide funding for artists. We manage space with the four locations: The Cloisters, Top of the World Observation Level, School 33 Art Center, and the Bromo Seltzer Arts Tower. But then we’re also the home of the film office. And we have the designation of being the Arts Council for the City of Baltimore. 

The mission is clear. Our directive is pretty straightforward. It’s when you get into the details of what we do that the organization has been structurally and, in my opinion, needlessly bifurcated. It’s even in the way that we talk about who the teams are: there’s the festivals team, the events team, and the Arts Council.

And to me, we’re just the Arts Council, because an arts council has a responsibility to do all the things that are listed in our mission. And the way that you do that is through grant making—providing holistic support for artists; and through festivals and events—which, again, we were trying to figure out why festivals and events are categorized as two separate teams. A festival is an event. 

What holistic support to artists does BOPA offer, or what would you like it to offer?

We need to be concerned about housing security, food security, health and wellness—so that’s specific to the artist. But when you talk about the arts community and this ecosystem that exists, we ought to figure out how to connect what has often been placed up here as art with folks that are living their daily lives. That means figuring out job opportunities in a very real way in a lot of these institutions.

The route that my father took and the work that he’s done—most folks don’t think about those jobs when they think about support for the arts community. Here in Baltimore, we’ve got young folks who are being trained up the wazoo to go into the trades. They’re taught welding, they’re taught electrical. They’re taught carpentry. No one has ever talked to them about how that connects back to arts and culture as a career. For example: those trades that they’re being taught are primary things needed in theater and film production.

Nobody’s talking to the young girls who are going to CNA programs where you’re learning cosmetology or hairstyling or makeup or nails. No one’s talking to them about being a part of what is a very necessary ecosystem to attract film production.

I’ve worked for several different economic development organizations in my life and I understand the importance of connecting traditional economic development with community based economic development and what role that plays in this conversation about arts and culture. While we might be fighting over tax credits, what attracts a business is the same thing that attracts a film production. If you have a talented workforce that can help them cut their production costs, and you promote that, then that makes a location appealing. 

Is that part of what the film office does? 

I can’t tell you specifically if that is what our film office currently does. We take folks on location scouting. We manage the permitting. We manage logistics when a production finally comes in. Debbie Dorsey [Director of the BOPA Film Office] is on the board for the Maryland Film Festival. But I don’t know if that is something that has been actively done. And again, I’m still kind of going through the attics and the closets to find out all the things. But my perspective is that that’s a space in which BOPA needs to be engaged.

Can you speak more to your vision of BOPA going forward?

I’m still in the fact-finding stage: engaging in a real way to sit and listen.

I had to talk to city officials first. I had to have the conversations with Council President and Council member Costello with Ways and Means, and conversations with the Mayor’s Office. So, a lot of it has been governmental in nature. I’m asking, What do your districts need? And, by extension, what do the artists and the arts communities in your districts need? 

Anything that deals with public dollars or people is going to be political… But at the end of the day, I think everybody at the table needs to remember who we really work for. And that’s for the people of Baltimore. Things have changed a lot since the pandemic. The role we have to play is evolving. I can tell you what I think the organization and the city needs, but if that’s not informed by the end user, then that’s all for naught.

The arts can be a very interesting space though, because it is so personal and that is the rub. How do you respect the personal nature of arts and culture, but also remain true to the fact that it’s not to be held so closely, and that it should be accessible to all, and that everyone, at all levels, is important in the survival of the arts and culture community—and by extension, the city of Baltimore? 

Right now, we’re working on pulling together what a real structure around community engagement looks like. We have to go back through the strategic planning process. So, in a strategic planning process, you go through your community needs assessment or engaging community, asking: What is it that you want to see?

And what are you hearing so far, if in an informal way, from Baltimoreans?

It’s a mixed bag.

I have heard horror stories and I have heard excitement around the question of what’s going to happen. I have horror stories from large institutions. I have horror stories from artists. There is a lack of clarity around what BOPA is doing.

One of the main things I’ve heard is that BOPA has its friends and it takes care of its friends. And that should never be the case. Ever. If we’re supposed to be keeping a consistent thread around how arts and cultural support happens in this city, then it can’t be based upon, well I know this person, I’m comfortable with this person. That’s one of the foundations of structural racism.

Access to funds has historically been dictated based upon who had the funds, who they knew and who they felt comfortable with providing funds to. Opportunities to make art, historically, from a structural racism perspective, have been exclusive to those that were deemed appropriate by whoever the arbiters of access were.

There’s perception and reality, and some of that overlaps. BOPA has not done the best job of telling our story. We have a duty to be able to report on what we do. We have to be able to quantify the actual impact and necessity of what we do.

Coming into this space, I have a whole different understanding, perspective, and respect for every other executive director or CEO that I’ve ever supported, because there are literally not enough hours in the day.

That begs the question, what do you do on your day off?

What day off?

Let’s call it a hypothetical, perfect day off.

If I had the perfect day off? I would be enjoying one of every kind of focus of arts and culture that’s available in the city of Baltimore.

Let’s say, it’s a Saturday. This is the perfect day; this is not what happens right now. I’ll wake up, let’s say 8 o’ clock. I would probably listen to a Carisma mix, DJ Carisma or DJ Oji, some house music like that to help motivate me to clean the house.

I would go to the barber, get my nails done, because that’s art too. I would go to Crust by Mack in the harbor, which is culinary art. I would stop by Matriarch Coffee because I have an addiction to coffee that is out of this world. And then I’d go and look out over the water and enjoy the view. I would probably, because I worked there two and a half years, breeze by the Reginald F. Lewis Museum to see what they had going on. 

In the perfect world, I would then head over to Saratoga Street and stop by Jody Davis. Jody Davis is the woman that designed the white coat and dress that first Lady Moore wore to the inaugural. She is amazing. She’d probably be fitting something for me to go to a gala.

I would go to Lexington Market, there’s some tried and true things that they have there and Waverly Market, because I probably will try to make Sunday dinner. 

I would go over to the Black Arts District, go to a mural unveiling, be amongst community, and just celebrate the work that they’re doing there. I would go to something really cool and funky at the Creative Alliance. There is a place in Hotel Revival called the B-Side. It’s a speakeasy and they have some of the best craft cocktails on the planet. 

And I am now thinking, I love to dance. There are these after hours, house party sets that happen on North Charles with Ultra Naté. I’d probably end my night the way I started and be in the next day because those don’t start until like 11:30 or 12 o’clock.

THAT would be the perfect day for me. My body would be mad but—trying to figure out ways to touch on every little piece of what this city has to offer would be the perfect day.

There’s so much here. I don’t think people know it though. And that’s both the challenge and responsibility of this balance that we have to strike—who to promote, wanting to promote it all, wanting to support it all. And there’s only 24 hours in a day.