<html><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space; "><div>Hi all,</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>I’ve been an avid reader of the iDC list for quite some time, but a quiet one. When Trebor suggested that I start a thread on the list, I thought iDC might be an interesting group to help think through something that’s been on my mind lately: the relation of ethics and aesthetics in social artworks - you might call it the question of social beauty. What follows is a very rough beginning of some thoughts I've been trying to develop - any responses and ideas would be welcomed.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>I come to the subject as an artist who has been creating internet-mediated social architectures for the past few years, just long enough to be interested in getting some perspective on what I’ve learned and where to go from here. (I don't talk about my work very specifically here, but there's lots of info available through my website - links to it and to other sites mentioned are appended below).</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Recently I had the pleasure of meeting up with a few dozen other social artists at the conference Open Engagement: Art after Aesthetic Distance held this fall in Regina, Saskatchewan. Most of the conference attendees were working in the wake of a series of debates and discussions that have circled around the recent rise in visibility of social art practice. </div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Depending on your historical sensibility, social artworks have their origins in the Dada and Surrealist movements or in the opening up of new forms that took place in the 50s and 60s (or both). Though object based art (painting, sculpture, installation) continues to dominate the market and much of the conversation, there has been a gradual increase in both the art practice and critical interest in social art through the intervening years, and I believe we are coming to a decisive moment in both. In 1998, the curator and critic Nicholas Bourriaud, in his book Relational Aesthetics, promoted a body of artwork from the 90s which attempted to strengthen social relations by creating microtopian spaces in the interstices of commercial society. Grant Kester's Conversation Pieces (2004) focused on work closer to the community art tradition, arguing for a dialogic approach to art-making in which the artist engages in mutual learning with a particular community. Lars Bang Larsen, writing from Copenhagen in 1999, coined the term Social Aesthetics to talk about a group of European artists engaged in activist and interventionist work. More recently, these approaches have come under fire from Claire Bishop and others, notably in her essays “Antagonism and Relational Aesthetics" in October (2004) and “The Social Turn” in Artforum (2006) where she takes on Bourriaud and Kester, respectively. In both essays she argues for art which admits more dissent and discomfort, and against the idea of collapsing aesthetic judgment entirely into the social ethics and potential political effect of the work. An interesting debate on this ethical/aesthetic dilemma has followed among critics and practitioners which for the sake of brevity I'm just going to point to with a reading list of links appended below.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>So what's happening right now? It seems we are in moment when social art practice is exploding. In the US, two MFA programs have just added concentrations in Social Practice (CCA in San Francisco, whose program is two years old, and Portland State University in Oregon which started theirs this fall). New books are coming out, notably What We Want is Free edited by Ted Purves (initiator of the CCA program), and Social Acupuncture by artist/provocateur Darren O’Donnell, as well as Claire Bishop's useful compendium of iconic texts from the 60s to the present, Participation. Social artworks have been increasingly common at all kinds of live events, like Glowlab's Conflux festival, and the Performa biennial of visual art performance both held recently in New York. Jen Delos Reyes, the organizer of Open Engagement, was inspired in part by Harrell Fletcher's "Come Together," a summer institute which took place at The Kitchen in New York in 2006. And at the same moment that Open Engagement was taking place in Regina a similar-yet-different conference on artists working with communities and in the public realm, Live in Public, the Art of Engagement was being held to sold-out crowds in Vancouver. </div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>One thing we can say about this body of work is that even though it is bubbling up through current MFA programs, the work itself takes place largely outside of institutional environments. The 90s artists Bourriaud describes in Relational Aesthetics typically work in the context of galleries, kunsthalles and museums - most of them are biennial-circuit art stars. Current practice is much more intensely focused on public spaces and public spheres - to the extent that these artists work in galleries and museums, the assumption is that these can be seen as or made into a kind of public space. One of these public spheres is the internet, specifically the social internet. Laurel Beckman has pointed out the way current artists use the internet fluidly to create social structures in and around their work, linking this kind of practice to the DiY culture of punk, zines, and hacking, but morphing it into a newer mode of DiT- Do it Together. This is a different kind of net art - not so much about code as about social networks.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Among many of these practitioners there is a profound loss of interest in the art-context - I've heard numerous younger MFA graduates distance themselves from the word "artist" - some for its elitist connotations (the assumption that artists are somehow more interesting or better than other people), others because the wranglings of art historians feel irrelevant, or because once you start working in public space the idea of confining yourself to the context of white cube and the social milieu of the art world seems absurdly limiting. </div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>At the Open Engagement conference, the effect on me of seeing so much social practice in one place was to feel both excited and disconcerted. Excited to be in a group which assumed that the social is a valid art medium, but concerned by the a sense of the self-imposed limitations that became apparent only when seeing all this work in aggregate. The work showcased at the conference tended to be playful, fun, whimsical, generous, helpful and microtopian-utopian. As Jeff Nye said in the essay which introduced Open Engagement, “The implied directive for these projects could be stated as 'Be real and play nice.'” </div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>To be honest, my own work could easily be seen in this way. For the past 10 years or so my practice has involved giving things away or making spaces where other people give things away, open source and open access structures. I bet from a slight distance it looks pretty darn generous, or even “nice,” but I never thought of it that way. I became interested in the gift not because it was sweet, but because it activated situations, it made unpredictable things happen. Outside of certain limited social contexts, a gift is a provocative gesture, even provoking, a kind of intervention. Deploying the gift widened the range of emotional responses to my work; excitement, greed, fear, anxiety, anger, and concern are all common, and I can tell you they were rare when I simply made sculptural objects.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>As it happened, I went directly from Open Engagement in Regina to a performance art festival in Vancouver, Live Biennale. The work presented there included international artists from a performance art tradition that took for granted the inclusion of physical risk, pain, discomfort and fear as part of the artistic vocabulary. I was one of a few social artists there, all part of a program on "Participatory Dissent" (curated by Natalie Loveless). As a group our strategy tended toward the micro-interventionist. The Institute for Infinitely Small Things shopdropped their latest publication about the culture of fear, "The New American Dictionary: Fear/Security Edition," into local bookstores. The National Bitter Melon Council promoted bitterness through taste-testing of bitter melon and questionnaires about bitter experience. I met with people in cafes and offered them free money ($50 Canadian) asking them to tell me whether they planned to keep it for themselves or give it away. I was essentially the same artist in both Regina and Vancouver but as the context changed I now seemed less generous and more like an instigator.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Since the Open Engagement and Live I’ve been re-reading the relational debates and thinking about the problems of conflating ethics and aesthetics and the problems of evaluating or thinking critically about social artworks. Many of the discussions I had with artists at both events circled around these issues - they are urgent questions for anyone making work today. If we are drawn to social practice by an interest in social change, it’s easy to evaluate projects purely on their political efficacy regardless of their artistic interest -- or lack thereof -- and if we're only interested in politics there are likely much more effective means. This is basically Claire Bishop’s argument in “The Social Turn,” but she doesn’t really offer much in the way of a serious attempt at what a social aesthetics might look like.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Social artworks need to function socially or they cease to exist—people need a reason for their participation other than the mere fact of experiencing an artwork. This social fuctionality puts strong ethical demands on social artists. If participants believe the piece to be unfair in some way, or potentially harmful, they naturally will not want to participate. The question is, does the nature of social artworks hold them to a uniformly postivisitic or even utopian tone? If participation is furthered by honesty, fairness, giving, and helping, does this prevent us from talking about or being interested in their opposites: lying, cheating, stealing and harm?</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>A couple of years ago I started playing online games as part of my research into social software, and I’ve now spent a great deal of time in those spaces, first World of Warcraft and more recently Eve Online. One of the striking things in this context is how important “negative” situations and emotions are to games and gaming. Strangely enough, not only conflict, failure, and frustration, but also boredom, envy, and anger are part of the fun, part of what makes them compelling to engage with. Eve Online has been particularly interesting for the relative lawlessness of its universe, and consequentially the way in which players can take up bad behavior as their game choice (piracy, warmongering, conquering, deliberate meanness), and how the existence of this “badness” makes life more interesting for the players who choose to be "good."</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Darren O’Donnell, again in Social Acupuncture, makes a case for discomfort in social artworks. “Social discomfort, while a pain in the ass to endure, is often necessary if we have any interest in increasing our social intelligence. It’s like mental confusion: any learning process must encounter a period of confusion—without it there’s no learning. With social intelligence, discomfort and antagonism are hallmarks of a successful encounter.”</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>What I see in the work of artists who pursue discomfort is the possibility of personal risk, risk not just for the instigating artist, but for all the participants. And here’s the paradox: without trust, people can’t and won’t take risks, in a sense, risk pushes you farther into ethical territory rather than freeing you up from it. It’s no accident, I think, that some of the more controversial social artists who deal regularly in antagonisms and discomfort pay their participants in cash (I’m thinking here of Thomas Hirschorn’s Bataille Monument, or the work of Santiago Sierra - both favorites of Claire Bishop). It’s certainly a reminder that, in our society, money is thought to even the score, to naturally motivate people to do things they otherwise wouldn’t want to do. For the rest of us the question remains open: how to expand the range of emotions and responses available while maintaining a reasonably ethical space for action and interaction.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>So what might we want and hope for from social artworks? If we can agree with Claire Bishop that simply evaluating artworks based on their social and political effects is unsatisfying, then what kinds of aesthetic criteria or social beauties might interest us? To come clean about my own allegiances, aesthetically I side with minimal and very early conceptual artwork - I like rigor and a kind of philosophical pointedness. I like small, specific interventions. I like open access structures. For me the interesting part of the art happens not in the artist or the studio - it happens when the ideas and experiences of the work are let loose in the people who come into contact with it -- I'm more interested in what they make of it than what I thought I was making in the first place. I like living in a world with many aesthetics. This is why I love my city commutes - the arguments about what is beautiful that go on (silently) in any subway car as people from different subcultures bump up against each other. Cities jam together all kinds of beauties. I'd like there to be as many social aesthetics out there as there are visual ones.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>There are a couple of good starts people have made into thinking about what kinds of criteria we could develop for social projects. Trebor Scholz included a good list for successful collaborations in his essay "The Participatory Challenge": start with a core group of users/producers, start with relevant, high quality material, keep contributors informed, give individuals credit, emphasise the benefits, allow for conflict, let the users/producers rule. Darren O'Donnell made a set of criteria for beautiful civil engagement that includes intriguing reversals like: "Gluing the Grease and Greasing the Glue: conflating the imperative to grease the wheels of commerce with the imperative to glue the social fabric; in other words, hauling the community into the commercial and the commercial into the community to spread, or equalize, power," and "Fruitful Antagonisms: triggering friction, tension, and examining the ensuing dynamic in a performative arena where all is easily forgiven" (link to the full list below). But to me, these criteria are still much more politico-ethical than they are aesthetic.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>If part of the program of the 60s and beyond was the blurring of art and life (as Alan Kaprow put it), social and relational art has taken this to the point where many of the participants in social artworks many not know or care that they are art, and the makers of the work increasingly disavow the term. And yet, and yet... the way this kind of work interrogates the purpose and meaning of what art is makes it the most interesting kind of art out there at the moment. </div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>And I don't mind arguing for art, even at the risk of seeming old fashioned. Art is a special kind of double vision, a mind-game which offers a way to see critically by seeing twice. The word "art" tells us to look for "artifice," in other words, a constructed situation, a set of purposeful choices. Or to put it differently, "art" asks us to look in two places at once; first we look to our experience, second we look at the artifice, the deliberate construction, and ask why. It is in the internal dialog between the experience of the participant and the question of the meaning and purposes of the situation's artificialities that the "art" occurs. </div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>This is really the slim difference between an interesting experience in daily life, and an interesting art experience. It is this reason the Duchamp's readymades function as artworks. Nowadays, in museums, we can hardly help but see the bottle rack as a beautiful, or at least strange, object. But that very fact dismayed Duchamp in later years -- it was precisely the un-beauty of the urinal and the bottle rack which made them suitable for his provocation. Yet they still function for us as artworks, because in addition to just looking at them, we know something *about* them, and it is what we know about them, their story if you will, that makes them artworks.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>This says something about the way artworks function outside the art context, i.e. they can function perfectly well as interesting experiences alongside all those other interesting and less interesting experiences that are a part of life. When art leaves behind the major markers and signifiers of "artness" - for instance when there is no object to look at and no art institution to look at it in - it's left with this challenge: it has to be at least as interesting as ordinary life.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Which brings me again to the question of what criteria we might use to judge some of the aesthetic dimensions of social artwork. So here are some of mine (very much a work in progress).</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>1) I will not make any more boring art. As in John Baldessari's famous piece, I often write this schoolgirl lesson over and over again in my head. Social artwork, like all nonmaterial, experiential work, is especially challenged to be at least as interesting as ordinary life. Art made of objects can always fall back on the material presence of the thing - if it's not interesting now, maybe it will be sometime later. Art that takes place in the present, amid the hustle and bustle of experience, has to hold its own right now. What "interesting" means here is of course open to debate. At a minimum it would suggest some kind of activity we don't normally do and an experience that might change the way we think or feel about things. The sharper this internal shift of perspective is, the more interesting the work. Maybe this is where we can especially open up the possibilities for feelings beyond simple pleasure - too much pleasure is boring. And in the context of social artwork, interesting experience implies the possibility having social encounters we wouldn't normally have, with people we wouldn't ordinarily meet.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>2) Inventive Form. Art theory and criticism doesn't often focus on form these days, but if we wanted to talk about the formal properties of social artworks don't think there would really be much difficulty. We could map the network connections among participants. We could talk about the effects of scale (number of people, geography, duration in time). We could think about the system of rules and expectations that make up social architectures. Anthropology and sociology offer all kinds of formal models that could be applied. So there's no shortage of ways of thinking about social form, it's just that there isn't much existing discourse in art criticism to base it on. Still, I think the examination of structure is more urgent than as just a purely formal exercise - in the social arena all these forms have immediate impact on who speaks, who listens, and what can be said. Maybe it's exactly in this question of social form that ethics and aesthetics are most interestingly tangled together.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>3) Not too big, not too stupid. This is a phrase some friends of mine invented to denote the advantages of a certain modesty of purpose, work that is anti-monolithic in aspiration. Social artworks are typically made by creating some kind of structure for participation. One could argue that all infrastructures are inherently coercive – that networks, codes, systems, organizations, rule sets, algorithms have biases and can never be neutral – they are good for some things and bad for others. Of course this is true. But there are a few things that can mitigate this kind of coerciveness. One is multiplicity of options, another is modesty of scale. We’ve seen this point of view in post-utopian social change movements – stop thinking about gigantically scaled all-inclusive solutions, and make things smaller and more kaleidoscopic. Many makers, many infrastructures. Small-scale projects are relatively easy to implement, much cheaper (no particular capital requirements), much less demanding of labor. Even better, make solutions which are relatively brief in time – stop worrying about sustainability and let ideas and projects have a shorter, more reasonable life cycle (most interesting things do anyway). Small scale and multiple options keep participation more freely chosen and mitigate the coercive dominance of the infrastructure – if you don’t like it, move on to another. Or better, just make one yourself.</div><div> </div><div>4) The "you had to be there" paradox. Social artworks take place in real time – when placed in an art context, people should be present rather than represented. Documentation is fine in the context of documents (books, websites) but it shouldn’t be substituted for or confused with the the artwork, which consists of actual people doing things. On the other hand, anthropologist David Graeber suggests an intriguing theory of political action in his recent book Lost People: Magic and the Legacy of Slavery in Madagascar: "As a minimal definition, political action is action meant to influence others who are not physically present when the action is being done. This is not to say it can’t be intended to influence people who are physically present; it is to say its effects are not limited to that. It is action that is meant to be recounted, narrated, or in some other way represented to other people afterward; or anyway, it is political in so far as it is." I might suggest that social artworks (and this is something they have in common with performance works) are essentially political in exactly this way. They have a double set of actions and functions, one for the persons present, one for those who hear about what happened later. As Graeber suggests, actions recounted in a way that influence others have the potential for consequences that reach far beyond the scope of the original event. Most of the artworks I count as profoundly important to me are actually not ones which I have experienced directly. This leaves us with a paradox that I think we're better off embracing and investigating than shutting down.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>5) A wide range of response-abilities. One of the things that makes receiving gifts fraught (as we are likely to be aware in this season) is that there is only one socially appropriate reaction: pleasure. Artworks which attempt to control and foreclose their own interpretation have the same problem. An artwork which limits its own interpretation limits its use as well. If we can't make up our own minds about it, we can't make anything of it; it becomes inert. The main complaint I've heard about social artworks comes close to this. Social artworks that foreground a kind of conviviality can make participants feel there is only one sort of appropriate response: social pleasure and social bonding. Personally, one of the aesthetic qualities I most admire in social artworks is what I think of as aliveness - when the interactions of the participants develop beyond the situation envisioned by the artist, when the participants take over and really make something new happen. This is the reason I keep doing this kind of work - if the piece is successful, I never fail to be profoundly surprised by what actually develops. </div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Inconclusion</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>At this point, rather than a conclusion I'd be more interested in the way other people reading might take up these questions. I'm sure we could come up with a much longer list than the above. I know many people on the list come at sociality and creativity from a perspective outside the art world and art context, and I am particularly curious to know your rules of thumb and criteria for success.</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : </div><div><br></div><div>Sal Randolph</div><div><a href="http://salrandolph.com">http://salrandolph.com</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>The Relational Debate</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Laurel Beckman - Video Podcast of the DIY => DIT panel at UCRIA</div><div><a href="http://www.bampfa.berkeley.edu/podcasts/art/ucira/MED2570">http://www.bampfa.berkeley.edu/podcasts/art/ucira/MED2570</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Claire Bishop, Antagonism and Relational Aesthetics (pdf)</div><div><a href="http://roundtable.kein.org/files/roundtable/claire%20bishop-antagonism&relational%20aesthetics.pdf">http://roundtable.kein.org/files/roundtable/claire%20bishop-antagonism&relational%20aesthetics.pdf</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Claire Bishop, The Social Turn (requires free registration)</div><div><a href="http://artforum.com/inprint/id=10274">http://artforum.com/inprint/id=10274</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Nicholas Bourriaud from Relational Aesthetics (pdf)</div><div><a href="http://www.creativityandcognition.com/blogs/legart/wp-content/uploads/2006/07/Borriaud.pdf">http://www.creativityandcognition.com/blogs/legart/wp-content/uploads/2006/07/Borriaud.pdf</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Nicholas Bourriaud glossary from Relational Aesthetics</div><div><a href="http://www.gairspace.org.uk/htm/bourr.htm">http://www.gairspace.org.uk/htm/bourr.htm</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Nichola Bourriuad and Karen Moss interview</div><div><a href="http://www.stretcher.org/archives/i1_a/2003_02_25_i1_archive.php">http://www.stretcher.org/archives/i1_a/2003_02_25_i1_archive.php</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Lucas Ihlein - blog</div><div><a href="http://www.lucazoid.com/bilateral/">http://www.lucazoid.com/bilateral/</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Sarah James, The Ethics of Aesthetics</div><div><a href="http://www.artmonthly.co.uk/ethics.htm">http://www.artmonthly.co.uk/ethics.htm</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Grant Kester, Dialogical Aesthetics</div><div><a href="http://www.variant.randomstate.org/9texts/KesterSupplement.html">http://www.variant.randomstate.org/9texts/KesterSupplement.html</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Lars Bang Larsen, Social Aesthetics</div><div><a href="http://www.aleksandramir.info/texts/larsen_afterall.html">http://www.aleksandramir.info/texts/larsen_afterall.html</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Darren O'Donnell Greasing the Glue (includes criteria for beautiful civic engagement) (pdf)</div><div><a href="http://www.mammalian.ca/pdf/Greasing%20the%20Glue.pdf">http://www.mammalian.ca/pdf/Greasing%20the%20Glue.pdf</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Darren O'Donnell Haircuts by Children interview (Performa 07)</div><div><a href="http://07.performa-arts.org/performa_live.php?date=2007-11-14">http://07.performa-arts.org/performa_live.php?date=2007-11-14</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Jacques Ranciere, Art of the Possible - interview (requires free registration)</div><div><a href="http://artforum.com/inprint/id=12843">http://artforum.com/inprint/id=12843</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Radical Culture Research Collective</div><div>A Very Short Critique of Relational Aesthetics</div><div><a href="http://transform.eipcp.net/correspondence/1196340894">http://transform.eipcp.net/correspondence/1196340894</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Sal Randolph, Notes on Social Architectures as Artforms</div><div><a href="http://salrandolph.com/text/7/notes-on-social-architectures-as-art-forms">http://salrandolph.com/text/7/notes-on-social-architectures-as-art-forms</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Judith Rodenbeck - The Open Work; Participatory Art Since Silence</div><div><a href="http://distributedcreativity.typepad.com/idc_events/2006/01/the_open_work_p.html">http://distributedcreativity.typepad.com/idc_events/2006/01/the_open_work_p.html</a></div><div>see also: <a href="https://lists.thing.net/pipermail/idc/2005-November/001199.html">https://lists.thing.net/pipermail/idc/2005-November/001199.html</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Trebor Scholz The Participatory Challenge</div><div><a href="http://www.collectivate.net/the-participatory-challenge/">http://www.collectivate.net/the-participatory-challenge/</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Randall Szott - Leisurearts blog discussion of Bishop/Kester etc - runs over several posts</div><div><a href="http://leisurearts.blogspot.com/2006/03/artforum-new-art-practices-cross.html">http://leisurearts.blogspot.com/2006/03/artforum-new-art-practices-cross.html</a></div><div><a href="http://leisurearts.blogspot.com/2006/05/grant-kester-artforum-claire-bishop.html">http://leisurearts.blogspot.com/2006/05/grant-kester-artforum-claire-bishop.html</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Conferences/Festivals/Programs mentioned</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Conflux</div><div><a href="http://confluxfestival.com">http://confluxfestival.com</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Live in Public: The art of Engagement</div><div><a href="http://www.grunt.ca/engage/">http://www.grunt.ca/engage/</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Live Biennale</div><div><a href="http://livebiennale.ca">http://livebiennale.ca</a>/</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Participatory Dissent </div><div><a href="http://participatorydissent.artintervention.org">http://participatorydissent.artintervention.org</a></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Performa 07</div><div><a href="http://07.performa-arts.org">http://07.performa-arts.org</a>/</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>Open Engagement</div><div><a href="http://jendelosreyes.com/openengagement/about.html">http://jendelosreyes.com/openengagement/about.html</a> </div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>CCA</div><div><a href="http://www.cca.edu/academics/graduate/finearts/socialpractices/">http://www.cca.edu/academics/graduate/finearts/socialpractices/</a></div><div><a href="http://socialpractice.org">http://socialpractice.org</a>/</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div>PSU</div><div><a href="http://www.pdx.edu/art/graduate.html">http://www.pdx.edu/art/graduate.html</a></div><div><a href="http://web.pdx.edu/~esteen/">http://web.pdx.edu/~esteen/</a></div><div><a href="http://socialpractices.blogspot.com">http://socialpractices.blogspot.com</a>/</div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><div><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div>
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