The Right to Be (Many)

“We got the right to be (gin),
Got the right to be (come),
Got the right to be (long)…
unapologetically.”

~ Amy Leon

Our right to be is our claim to existence. Where we begin with the right to name ourselves. To make from hands that have carved and cut, created and moulded together sheer will and existence from unfathomable histories made tangible, given a voice. Our right to be is survival. Where we say this is not a quiet generation of artists. Arriving in these halls, we were never quiet to begin with. We came here as many. Where we were neither stagnant nor complacent. We are here now having carried and brought ourselves through years of making, failing, picking up and working. Always working. We, who are not a singular being, have arrived and will leave here as artists – deserving of our names. We cement our right:

To begin: Where beginning is a necessity. Is radical. Is intentional. To begin is an acknowledgment that we do not start from scratch but from fractures, identities, heritage. We begin because we must. We begin at the end.

To become: An active engaging with the making of ourselves, our art, our spaces. Becoming is political. It is sacred. It is a counteractive structure of disruptions that we make our way through. We are the in(be)tween. Our becoming – with, through, against – is to insist on rooting ourselves. In kinship and with our practices, with familiarity and our complexities.

To belong: where we demand of something more than our inclusion. To demand we exist as we come- without conditioning and without asking us to shrink. Without smoothing down our edges. To belong is to insist that there will be space for us. And those like us. In the archives. In the future. In the room. In the books. We are the needle stubbornly engraving our names on the phonograph of time.

Our belonging is an affirmation that we,
in all our flaws
in all our histories
our languages
our homes
our liveliness
our apartness
our dissonances
our dreams,
have the right to be heard here.

Listen.
We do not ask for you to hold us, but we ask for you to listen. Our work is a culmination of years of practice, an invitation to we, who are building an archive of unapologetic existence.

Then,
As we hold the door open,
Confidently and eagerly
with heads held high,
We say,
Welcome —

To New Work 2025.