How To Close Your Doors
When Its Just A Step Toward A Greater Reopening
August 31, 2021 is an important day in the life of Artisan’s Asylum, the cooperative fabrication wonderland I manage on behalf of our 500+ members. And I want our members to know that I recognize that — deeply. I recognize the importance of today in so many of lives because over the years I’ve experienced much of the same sweat, tears, and joy that built Artisan’s at Tyler Street in the half-dozen arts organizations I’ve been involved with over the last 25 years. Like our founding members, I know what it’s like to pour yourself into a community, to build dreams that expand beyond four walls. To shape life out of air and to foster a powerful community from loose affinities.
It can feel like a once in a life-time experience and I recognize the loss that many of our members feel in leaving Tyler Street behind. I wish it didn’t feel so difficult to take this step forward together.
When I was hired in August of 2018, nobody knew what was next. Let’s be real: some members doubted there would be a “next.” The organization welcomed me with a ticking clock and I got to work. To move forward we’ve had to overcome some pretty ridiculous odds. I think back on my naiveté with wry, dry wit. And who could have seen Covid coming.
Covid was devastating for arts organizations, and Artisan’s wasn’t an exception. Except that we had a non-negotiable, $5M relocation effort planned smack at the front of it.
Stay at Tyler Street? Remain in Somerville? Grow twice as big? These were questions that seemed so ripe with possibility in late 2018. As 2019 widened, the realities of our scale, a booming regional real estate market, Artisan’s financial track record — even the diverse and often asymmetric voices across our community made it clear: there was no magic bullet to address the question, “Where will Artisan’s be in September 2021?”
Regardless, we persisted. I asked my team to invest in and optimize our operations as far as we could push them, knowing that we’d be unlikely to ever make the investment back at Tyler Street. We had to grow as though we were staying: with the model I inherited, our survival required earned income to keep pace with (if not exceed) inflation. And we weren’t going to grow a powerful donor base overnight. Meanwhile, many artists’ fortunes were not looking great.
Nevertheless we accomplished a lot with very little — 75 percent of our members are sticking through this with us. And that takes something powerful — it takes courage and it takes heart. I’m deeply grateful to everyone who has shared courage and gave their heart to the Asylum over the last 18 months.
Slowly and with great effort we have rebuilt the footing of this place. From taxes to infrastructure, equipment and contractors — even the damn roof! We’ve poured over $2.5M into Tyler Street over the last 3 years, ensuring that we could shape the story we needed to tell — that we were the masters of our destiny, despite the odds. We had to tell a story that would bank confidence in our qualities as a community and secure the partnerships we needed to grow.
It hasn’t been easy, and yes, it has been bumpy — yes, we all have some bruises. And here we are, about to launch something fantastic.
As we wind down our operations at 10 Tyler Street, I wanted to make sure our members know how impressed I am with everyone who is still with us. I’ve said “Thank you” more times than I can count. Our members have been able to produce dreams from stardust, animate objects with strings of code. I know that not everyone who has contributed to this place is happy or even comfortable with our move, and I’m sorry. I am also grateful to everyone who, in whatever way they have contributed, has brought us to where we are today — to the threshold of our next ten years.
And I believe it will be an exciting decade. There will be adjustments, sure. All things considered, I’m confident the upside is greater than the downside. Every member will benefit from a healthy work environment. The community will benefit from dramatically expanded work spaces. Members will be closer to the Boston market for artistic and creative output. Artisan’s has the opportunity to foster world class partnerships.
There is much to be excited and optimistic about as we reflect on the shared history that we will leave behind.
So as we prepare to say goodbye to Tyler Street, I hope that members find our spirits lifted by the accomplishments of our community and the prospects for the open-ended, inspired, funny, poignant, somber, jubilant, ingenious creativity that has powered the Asylum since it opened our double-wide red doors back in 2012.
To riff off of the familiar: Artisan’s isn’t being destroyed, we’re just changing form.
