Shey Rivera Rios: Creativity & Civic Action

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Marianna

Do you have a routine for entering into a creative headspace?

Shey

I love that question. I think a lot of my artwork is based on ritual even when it’s external and public-facing. The private space is incredibly important. It’s important to have my own studio space, even as an interdisciplinary artist. I keep altars, incense, a lot of books, phrases, and collages posted in my space. One of my rituals is lighting incense, grounding myself in my studio, and then to begin reviewing phrases, stories, quotes, books, and images. After this, I begin designing.

Marianna

Do you have any habits you've built for yourself to foster creativity?

Shey

To get myself to start thinking differently, I visually establish connections between images I’ve been cataloging and pieces of text. My practice involves research, time looking through old photos of Puerto Rico, and printing them out and playing with those prints. Reading, and thinking of stories. I’m a research nerd. I like getting into the vortex of information, but not just for the sake of collecting it but to visualize the place, the era, who the people were. It’s my desire to create a world, and reimagine a world. This process helps center me around the question ‘why am I doing this work in the first place?’.

Marianna

Knowing where the ideas and people came from, and finding a basis to move forward from there. What is your process for cataloging? Is it online or physical?

Shey

I create a mess of things in my studio. But recently, I have started organizing my references on digital platforms. I save repositories of images and links, mood boards. 

Marianna

You’re building worlds, collecting inspiration. Where do you think your ideas come from?

Shey

Many things fill my well of inspiration, where my ideas come from. Lived experience. Reading stories, especially of Puerto Rican people. Listening to my family talk about their experiences. Speculative fiction and sci-fi stories, anime inspires me as a form of art…showing how different countries that have faced cultural trauma produce creative expressions. My dreams are a source of inspiration as well - a  lot can be harnessed from the brain’s subconscious. Another thing I do is tap into movement. I’ve been thinking about how we carry information in our body and I’m interested in learning what that means and what I can access. I’ve been learning from dance and movement artists. 

Marianna

Any favorite pieces or stories you come back to?

Shey

There’s one specific image that I’m obsessed with. It’s a photograph of the town of Aguadilla in Puerto Rico, depicting the area of Ojo Del Agua. In the 1900s, it was a small-scale water collection dam built on the river that went through this town. It’s a powerful image, people collecting water, a town built around this collective action and resource.

Also, old school anime movies are something I go to a lot - I was psyched that battle Angel Alita was turned into a movie, but the original is a top inspiration. It talks about colonialism, the body, and gender in interesting ways. 

Marianna

Our conversations lead us through the thinking behind your artistic projects, which invariably lead us to discuss politics and the social movements your work speaks to. Your day to day work and your artistic projects exist squarely at the intersection of art, politics, and social change, both in Puerto Rico and internationally. How has working at the intersection of civic development and art affected your process and thinking? 

Shey

Meeting my mentor Umberto Crenca, who is the Founder of AS220 was really validating and a pivotal moment for me as an artist. Beyond an artist, he is a civic leader. He’s been involved in many social and civic boards in the city. Very active, very present, holds politicians and corporate heads accountable as a stakeholder in the city. It’s really inspiring to see how he works in a political way as an artist. It really resonated for me- seeing the arts as a catalyst for civic change. The arts can be used as a way to build better, to unite community, and to fight systems of oppression. It fell into place for me, my role, and work as an artist. How do we as artists make sure our values are centering equity, and are front and center in our work so we can contribute in meaningful ways? It’s something I’m often thinking about.

There’s a larger thread in the work - one of my key goals with my professional and creative practice is to connect people, and connect myself across struggles and social movements of liberation. I firmly believe there is a lot to learn when we harness knowledge and power across contexts. I think growing up in Puerto Rico, a colony of the U.S., and living both outside and inside the U.S., gives me the lens that the world is not what the U.S. defines. We are surrounded by other rich and complex ways of viewing the world. That’s important. I try to connect to that in my creative practice. 

Although I live now in the U.S., I try to stay connected with the arts and social movements in Puerto Rico. When the social and civic uprisings against the government took place in the island, I immediately flew back, to be present with artists and activists that were pushing. I think it’s beautiful that queer, women, black and brown folks are the ones leading liberation movements across the globe. It also makes me feel really proud that Puerto Rico is making a big contribution by setting an example of what’s possible, I think inspiring other liberation movements across the globe. 

My work has also led me into collaborations with people in Latin America, most recently the Colombian Pacific.  And I’ve gotten a glimpse at how the Pacific’s social leaders organize and structure civic action in the midst of structural violence and armed conflict, to demand human rights and public services.. 

Marianna

About that - you were recently in the Choco region of Colombia with MIT CoLab, the community innovators lab in the department of urban studies and planning. I’d love for you to share a bit about your experience and the work you’re doing. What’s going on in Choco? 

Shey

It’s interesting, MIT CoLab is not a regular research lab, it’s participatory action research and community work. MIT CoLab seeks to further economic democracy, and change paradigms of development. They’re invested in the Bronx, New York, and the work in the Colombian Pacific. I was recently in Buenaventura and in Quibdó, the Choco region, learning about how the civic strikes throughout the Pacific supported each other to accomplish a specific goal. It was inspiring to see these models of civic engagement that create practical change, leveraging community assets to build power, and led by black and brown leaders.. 

In Buenaventura, the civic strike became a civic movement with a structure of committees. They demanded the government meet the basic needs of the people. Afro-Colombians face violence and inequity, while also being the keepers of cultural patrimony in Colombia… The people of the Pacific organized and held the government accountable, and -in Buenaventura- the government agreed to establish a fund so the civic movement could design a development plan to address the community needs. Also, the civic movement chose a candidate to run for Mayor. And this social leader won the election! It means the commitments to further equity will hopefully be met. I feel blessed to have experienced the Colombian Pacific’s culture and have been close to these social processes, through my brilliant colleagues in the Pacific. 

Marianna

What are the unexpected turns your life took to lead you to become who you are today and do the work you are currently doing?

Shey

Certainly moving out of Puerto Rico in 2010 was a factor. I am part of one of the early waves of people who moved out because of the economic crisis in the island, the lack of resources. Moving to Providence, Rhode Island was life-changing. I did find my home here, although there was a culture shock at first. I eventually became connected to the arts environment in the city. I’ve grown as an artist immensely...being in Providence has opened up my creative practice in crazy ways. I didn’t go to art school and I don’t have a family of people that gave the arts much importance.

Meeting my friend and mentor Umberto Crenca, the Founder of AS220 was an important turn. Another life-changing moment was when the Promesa Act was passed in 2016, as Congress’ response to Puerto Rico’s economic crisis. That’s when I turned my creative practice more intentionally toward decolonization, focusing on collaborations and creative work that sought to have civic impact. Then, the Hurricanes [Irma and María]made things even more urgent. It was an added layer to everything, seeing and feeling things from a place of grief and pain but also trying to find ways to channel that into supportive and helpful action.

Marianna

Any other projects in the works? Your book Naty and My Chaotic Stench is all finished and that’s a big deal! [laughter]

Shey

Yes! I have another book in the works! But I’ve been taking a break to let things settle - I’ve had a busy couple of months, specifically with El Despojo, a project by poet Yara Liceaga-Rojas. It’s a transmedia art initiative about the experience and impact of Hurricane María in the Puerto Rican diaspora. Through this an amazing project, Yara created a space for healing for other diaspora artists. I knew of Yara when she was active in the San Juan poetry scene years ago and I loved her work - and then I actually got to connect with her in Boston and become friends. Being part of El Despojo has been powerful -  it’s been beautiful and intense. It’s important to have space to reflect and process grief, in the ways we do as artists…

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Marianna

Incredible. I do want to hear a bit more about your work and experience creating your project Fantasy Island.

Shey

When the Promesa Act was passed in 2016, myself and a colleague Anabel Vázquez Rodríguez were thinking about our role, the outrage we felt, and the movement to push against the Act back home. Anabel has strong connections to the island, like me. We created this body of work called  ¡CAPICÚ! LET THEM EAT CAKE, a multimedia exhibit in Providence and Boston. We projected video of Lolita Lebrón when she was in court in Congress, we set up domino tables and military maps of Puerto Rico. We used this space to talk about Puerto Rico’s colonization and the Promesa Art. 

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This was a lot to digest. So I thought ‘how do I make this conversation easier to understand?’ I wanted to create some sort of window to encourage people to go down the rabbit hole. That’s when the idea of Fantasy Island came about. I was having such a hard time, I wanted to pull this together, and I met with my friend Huáscar Robles, who is a journalist. We were at Rocky Point over here in Rhode Island, it used to be an amusement park, now it’s a natural reserve. While hanging out and looking at some of the remnants of the amusement park that are left on the landscape, the idea of Fantasy Island was born. What stood out for me, what I wanted to talk about, was tourism and real estate. Two of the things I’m involved in as a practitioner in the intersection of the arts and urban planning. I can speak to those things and show how tourism and real estate are tools of colonization, especially on the Island. 

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While Puerto Rico was going through a deep economic crisis, luxurious real estate properties were still being marketed to rich Americans and Europeans. I started compiling some of those images of the properties being sold, between $6 and $9 million dollars, while the island saw uprisings and social manifestations against the PROMESA Act.  That’s when I created that body of work that became FANTASY ISLAND, a series of animated collages, installation, and performance about tourism, capitalism, and colonization… Sometimes when I tell people in the U.S. that I’m from Puerto Rico,  they tell me they went there on vacation and loved it. But most people here don’t even know that Puerto Rico is a colony of the U.S. The island is often depicted as a fantasy escape, sexy and tropical, where the visitor can realize their dreams - and this is entirely disconnected from the reality of the majority of people that live on the island. 

For this, I wanted to create an immersive space and was inspired by the cheesiness and brilliance of the ‘Vapor Wave’ aesthetic- this internet-culture-puke of 90s computer nostalgia. I thought it was the best aesthetic to use for this topic because it feels a little bit dangerous, and talks about a future that was promised but never happened, a future that’s obsolete. The idea of Americanization and progress that was promised to Puerto Rico but was never real. Capitalism keeps extracting wealth. 

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For this immersive space - the goal was for people to enter a fantasy real estate office. The performance -led by my friend Huáscar Robles- was the persona of a real estate developer, telling the story of going to the island to sell property. After the sales pitch, the character breaks to share the stories of what’s really happening on the island. We finish by opening the space for community discussion. And I always made sure that we could talk with the audience. I’m not a fan of entering a gallery space and leaving with just visual stimulation. I want people to leave the space knowing the context of that work, why that work exists, and what we’re trying to say.

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Marianna

How was the reception of Fantasy Island among Puerto Ricans who saw the piece and had a chance to experience the performance?

Shey

It was meaningful. I’ve had a variety of reflections from folks. The work has been shown in different cities and in different configurations which has been exciting. The first show was in Providence, and then it was shown in The Loisaida, a cultural center in the Lower East Side of NYC, founded and run by Puerto Ricans since the ’70s. When it was presented there, it was only meant to be a month of programming, but that’s when the island was hit by the Hurricanes.

The exhibit was extended another month and I turned it into space for conversation, community healing, supporting fundraising efforts, and spreading information. Fantasy Island has taken different shapes and forms since then: presentations in community centers and educational institutions. One of them was MACLA / Movimiento de Arte y Cultura Latino Americana, as part of a group exhibit called Notes on Democracy. I was really proud of that because this work is about questioning democracy. 

Marianna

I have conversations with people in New York and outside of NYC about the struggle to contribute, to activate social change and political change. People have expressed a feeling of apathy and helplessness, that things can’t be changed [politically].

As someone who is working at the intersection, creating positive social impact and pushing for this light to shine on what is happening in Puerto Rico, but also generally pushing for civic change and social change here and internationally... Do you have any advice for someone who is struggling with finding strength, or the words, or generally with this feeling of political apathy? How do we motivate others to find their voice, to take civic action?

Shey

I think about this every single day, about this specific question. I’ve come to this answer for myself - I just need to be honest in my work and do and say and create things that are honest and true to my experience, and allow myself to be vulnerable and open. It’s hard to be out in the world and often forced to share yourself without consent. I think creating and presenting artwork -on one’s own terms- is a place of empowerment, a space of emotional energy you can control. Every time I take that space it’s very healing and reaffirms me and what I need to say. I don’t claim to take responsibility for other people's apathy. I decided to create my work for myself and for the people I truly want to serve and whose voices I hold dear want to empower. Keeping the intention of the work honest and true.

An antidote to apathy is finding ways to connect. I find that if you give people the chance to show support, share in your grief or your journey, they will often accompany you. This is an important exercise for me. My go-to emotion can be anger or frustration. It can be isolating. I’ve chosen as a goal to celebrate and create joy, to be honest with hardship, and to stay true to my creative voice... 

Marianna

Completely. It sounds to me like you lead by example through your work. There’s no easy solution. Dedicating your life to creating art that moves people and giving a voice to the oppressed and those who aren’t being heard. You served for eight years at AS220 as Artistic Director, guiding people within that program. You’ve overseen the development and growth of many people - perhaps you have insight into why artists, or people generally, get stuck on problems? Do you have any methods for inspiring creativity?

Shey

These questions spark so many thoughts, I love this conversation! I believe creating is important. It’s really hard because this society often tells people -black and brown and queer people-, that one’s work, one’s voice, or even your whole being is not valuable... It’s powerful to say “No! My experience is valid, my voice is important!”. In terms of my collaborative creative practice, and in producing public work, that has been the center of it for me: pushing myself and encouraging other people to take risks, explore…and creating spaces for that, like Luna Loba, a performance series that I curate as a space for exploring ritual and creative practice with other artists.

In terms of being stuck creatively, I invite you to think about what you can shape differently? What can you respond to? You don’t have to create in a vacuum or force it. Try different mediums. Create space for experimentation. Performance art is a new thing for many people, and I encourage folks to test it out even if they don’t understand it. It breaks apart your perception of what art is. If you treat it with the respect of a practice, I’ve seen a lot of people be transformed by that space of validation. I’ve seen them expand their work in different ways, wield their power, and know that their work is important. 

Marianna

Lastly, I’d love to hear if you have any specific artists or resources that you love and you find creatively inspiring, to share with others!

Shey

There are so many! [laughter] I love Saya Woolfalk. Her work started as pattern design and apparel and grew to include speculative fiction and immersive worlds across mediums. Sanford Biggers is another artist that inspires me. A curator recommended I look at his work to reflect on my own. He works in sculpture, quilting, and has a performance band called Moon Magic. I love Frida Kahlo for many different reasons, not a surprise. She was a bold and political artist, with the experience of disability, a gender bender, a fashion icon, painfully rigorous, she had so much depth.

Another influence is Umberto Crenca, my friend and mentor because he is so prolific. He’s a maximalist, he doesn’t stop creating, you think he’ll sit still and in a month he’ll crank out 60 art pieces! And performance artist Guillermo Gómez-Peña, knowing about his work in college changed my life, and getting to meet him and collaborate was immensely liberating for my practice... And I have tons of artist peers and friends who are wildly inspiring, the list is huge. I feel lucky every day. 

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About Shey Rivera Ríos

Shey Rivera Ríos (pronouns: they/them) is an interdisciplinary artist, cultural strategist, and arts administrator. Their artistic creations span a myriad of topics, from home to capitalism to queerness and magic. Rivera has 10 years of experience in the nonprofit arts sector intersecting creative practice with urban planning and racial equity. Rivera was also former Artistic/Co-Director of AS220, a renowned arts organization and creative incubator in Providence, RI, and successor to AS220 founder Umberto Crenca.

After 8 years at AS220, Rivera is now Director of Inclusive Regional Development at MIT CoLab, in the Dept of Urban Studies and Planning of MIT, where they co-design and implement workshops on collective leadership and community innovation in Colombia.

Rivera has a BA in Psychology and Sociology from the University of Puerto Rico (UPR-Rio Piedras), and graduate studies in Contemporary Media and Culture from the University of the Sacred Heart, San Juan, Puerto Rico. They serve on the City of Providence’s Design Review Committee of the Dept of Planning, appointed by the Mayor of Providence. And is on the board of directors of the Alliance of Artist Communities. Key artistic projects are the LUNA LOBA performance series and the FANTASY ISLAND transmedia project.