Art impacts us in multiple ways. Studies show it can expose hidden injustices, provoke reflection and inspire reimagination of our world, or that the arts can open spaces for personal and social transformation, providing a platform for activism and social change (Monk et al., 2019; Belfiore & Bennet, 2008). Art invites conversations about often-ignored issues, amplifying the voices and values of activists and creating a space for soulful reflection. But how much of art is at risk? What kinds of structural problems- like systemic inequity, marginalization, or institutional unreliability- undermine its value? And what can be done to ensure it survives?
Perhaps no place can make addressing these questions as worthwhile as Philadelphia can. Long seen as “the sixth borough of New York” due to its affordable rents and sustainable living, Philadelphia is experiencing a cultural renaissance driven by a flourishing art scene. Known as the “Mural Capital of the World,” Philadelphia hosts over 4,300 murals, a testament to its community-focused public art programs and its history of social activism. Programs like Mural Arts Philadelphia – originally established in 1984 as an anti-graffiti initiative – aimed to revitalize the city’s “tainted” public image and highlight art as a tool for social engagement. However, it is Philadelphia’s broad and diverse artistic landscape that keeps igniting the city’s burgeoning vitality. In this lively environment, artists across disciplines find various opportunities to explore themes of precarity, social risk and systemic challenges, using their work to spark dialogue and address pressing issues.
Philadelphia is a city filled with artists who use their art to engage with the socio-political realities of their community, focus on conversations around community healing and critique systemic inequality. Structural conditions within the art world create significant challenges for artists, particularly those navigating institutional and systemic inequities. The closure of art schools around the country exemplifies the precarious nature of arts education and the loss of spaces that shape emerging talent. These closures, alongside unreliable funding and the growing dependence on temporary, project-based opportunities, leave many artists unable to sustain long-term careers. Systemic inequities further compound these struggles as artists from marginalized identities often face barriers to accessing resources, representation and institutional support. Broader sociopolitical factors, including neoliberal policies and late-stage capitalism, exacerbate these conditions by prioritizing profitability over community investment, thereby underfunding the arts and treating creative labor as expendable.
These structural challenges not only shape the lived experiences of artists but also influence the content and context of their work, using their practice to critique, resist and navigate the systemic forces that define their precarity. This report examines the margins of both the art world and individual artists’ lives, exploring how systemic inequities intersect with artistic practice to shape personal experiences and professional trajectories. Artists working in underfunded genres, independent spaces, or non-mainstream practices often face exclusion from institutional support, while those from marginalized identities encounter compounded challenges rooted in race, gender, class and other social factors. By analyzing the lived experiences of artists and socio-political critiques embedded in their work, this report highlights how structural inequities perpetuate precarity at both personal and professional levels, revealing the connection between the marginalization of the art world and the artist.
Artists face numerous challenges that stem from the precarious nature of institutional and organizational support. Artists are typically freelancers driven by competitive, self-organized projects, whose “freedom” from the nine-to-five work shift frequently comes at the cost of stability, security and even creative autonomy (Christopherson et al., 2008). Public art organizations, galleries and institutions exist to support artists, offering them spaces for visibility, financial aid and career development. Against this backdrop, artists remain vulnerable not only due to their conditions of professional precarity and insecurity but also due to their status as “creative authors.” As a result, artists have even begun channeling their responses in their work, using their art as a medium to respond to insurmountable issues.
In this research report, I delve into the intersections of art, precarity and resistance within Philadelphia’s art scene, focusing on how artists may use their art to reflect and critique the realities of structural conditions that shape their livelihoods. Through interviews and analyses of key works by local artists, this report seeks to highlight the lived experiences of artists grappling with institutional reliability, financial insecurity and marginalization. By examining the strategies of resistance that these artists practice, we can see how art functions as both a personal and collective response to broader societal challenges. This report seeks to underscore the critical role of art in fostering dialogue, building community and inspiring change on the margins of the art world and individual artists’ lives, exploring how systemic inequities shape their personal experiences and professional trajectories.
D’nae Harrison
D’nae Harrison (she/her/hers) is an award-winning interdisciplinary artist from Philadelphia whose work speaks boldly for those who cannot freely express themselves. As both an artist and musician, Harrison uses her voice as an instrument and her work as a medium to inspire those who have experienced oppression. She encourages her audience to practice self-love, amplify their voices and trust their unique perspectives. Much of Harrison’s work is emotionally charged, contrasting bright, bold color palettes with geometric backgrounds and linear patterns. These recurring motifs thread together self-reflection and themes of social commentary, addressing inequalities and injustices personally and within society.
Shaded Oppression | 2016, oil and fabric on wood, 48″ x 48″
One of Harrison’s most notable pieces, Shaded Oppression, exemplifies her powerful approach to social critique. Created in response to the 2016 election, this piece uses oil paint, fabric and wood to portray blinded and gagged individuals who are constrained by pieces of the American flags. Symbolizing the stifling effect of government and societal expectations on marginalized voices, these figures are accompanied in the center of the canvas by a single, unmasked and ungagged figure who stands defiant, representing a form of resistance and independence amid oppression. Harrison explains that the square dimensions and fluctuating background of the piece allow it to be seen as a new “flag” for the country’s oppressed, symbolizing unity and defiance. Through vivid colors, linear patterns and “black and white” motifs that subtly reference colorism, Shaded Oppression calls for viewers to face the harsh realities of American injustices and consider equality a universal right, independent of one’s skin color. “This painting,” Harrison explains, “speaks not only for me but for those who don’t have the freedom [to speak].”
The challenges artists face due to institutional precarity and instability are not isolated. Rather, they reflect broader conditions within the creative industries. Harrison recalls the frustration of having an anticipated art installation pulled at the last minute from a festival without explanation. “That’s the up and down with art,” she laments. “You can’t be too attached to things because you never know.” Harrison recalls this experience with dismay, explaining that cancellations are rarely explained and that organizations often fail to take responsibility for the impact their decisions have on artists’ livelihoods. A similar finding emerged in high-profile arts festivals and institutions funded by public and private cultural renaissance funding across Canada, as culture workers whose labor keeps the events and institutions running are contracted out, paid less and receive fewer benefits (Finkel, 2009; Jenkins, 2009). Although artists want to speak up for themselves, they fear the risk that comes with biting the hand that feeds them, knowing that pushing back could result in being blacklisted or losing future opportunities.
Harrison working on her mural To The Polls (2020)
As a result, Harrison highlights how institutional and organizational instability creates significant challenges for artists. She discusses how public art institutions often lack meaningful artist representation at the top, leading to decisions that frequently disregard artists’ needs and livelihoods. She believes those managing artistic spaces should better understand the artist’s perspective. “It’s a lot of people in charge that are not really artists…Because artists are so eager to be seen and so genuine in their profession, it’s really easy to get taken advantage of,” she reflects, emphasizing the need for artists to have more control over the spaces meant to support them. Harrison argues that if artists had a stronger voice in these institutions, they could create more sustainable solutions.
Experiences like these illustrate the unpredictability of the art world, where canceled shows and shifting institutional priorities can leave artists in financially and emotionally precarious situations. In 2017, Harrison’s brother graduated from Delaware College of Art and Design (DCAD), which closed its doors at the end of the 2023-2024 academic year. He later graduated from the University of the Arts (UArts) in 2019, which subsequently closed its doors shortly after in June 2024. Alongside these institutions, 40 other art institutes nationwide closed their doors to students over the past decade. Such disruptions echo broader trends in precarious creative labor, where artists must navigate unstable work and educational environments while fearing backlash if they speak out against unfair treatment.
Harrison’s reflections show the necessity for structural changes within the art world to better support and protect artists. Despite the constant hurdles, her work continues to advocate for self-expression and the importance of artists’ voices within society. By fostering dialogue around social justice and creating spaces for marginalized narratives, Harrison exemplifies a commitment to artistic activism, making her a powerful figure within the Philadelphia art scene.
Candy González
Candy Alexandra González (they/them) is a multidisciplinary visual artist, poet, activist and trauma-informed educator raised in Little Havana and now based in Philadelphia. Their art practice, which spans photography, poetry, printmaking and papermaking, is a courageous space to express their experiences and confront societal issues. González’s work explores body politics, fat phobia and self-healing, combining personal introspection with broader cultural commentary.
Altars to Community Healing | 2023, paper, pulp and water-dispersed pigments, 30” x 40” each
Their piece Altars to Community Healing was created during residency at Mount Holyoke College. As a series of pulp paintings on abaca, this work is part of a series that grew from conversations with students around community healing, which González facilitated through papermaking workshops. Installed at the Talcott Greenhouse on campus, a space of solace for students, the piece blends harmoniously into its natural surroundings, symbolizing mutuality, co-existence and collective healing. This exploration of community healing through papermaking directly addresses the systemic marginalization they experience as a queer, nonbinary, immigrant artist, demonstrating the interplay between individual precarity and broader structural conditions.
On the topic of precarity, González reflects on how intersecting identities—as a brown, queer, non-binary person and child of immigrants—shape their experiences of vulnerability. “Precarity is a condition that is brought on by multiple factors,” González states, describing the compounded challenges marginalized groups face. They underscore that systems of power create and maintain these states of insecurity, particularly for those whose identities make them targets of oppression. This awareness has shaped their journey and their understanding of art as a space for resistance and expression. González acknowledges that their parents, as undocumented immigrants, sacrificed stability in hopes that their children might escape precarity, yet society’s devaluation of creative expression continues to provoke their vulnerabilities.
González’s critique extends to the systemic failings of educational institutions under late-stage capitalism. “Educational institutions are run like a business, no?” they say, pointing out how market-driven frameworks have made arts education especially susceptible to cutbacks and closures. Their reflections resonate with critiques of neoliberal policies that prioritize profitability over social responsibility, leading to cycles of instability in the arts. González witnessed this firsthand when teaching at Wells College, shortly before its art program closed. They describe a palpable sense of grief and betrayal among students and alumni as beloved educational spaces disappeared, leaving many to process the loss of transformative experiences without institutional support.
González in front of their piece Altar to Corporal Striations (2020)
At the heart of González’s critique is a rejection of resilience as an expected daily response to structural failures. As they explain, resilience is meant to help individuals overcome occasional challenges, not to serve as a constant survival mechanism within a broken system. They argue that resilience should not be relied upon daily to adapt to institutional and societal harm. “Resilience is the reason why Black folks, Indigenous folks, immigrant folks, are able to thrive,” González explains, “but it’s not something that we should be accessing every day. In an ideal world, all of our needs would be met and we could live full, joyful lives.” González’s vision challenges resilience as a default expectation, suggesting that the true need is for institutional accountability and systemic change.
Nazeer Sabree
Nazeer Sabree (he/him/his) is a compelling new presence in contemporary art, emerging with a fresh perspective deeply rooted in Philadelphia. Sabree’s art is both an exploration and a reflection of his life experiences, which he channels into intricate portrayals of boyhood, identity and healing. Growing up, Sabree initially believed an art career was out of reach. However, with the support of a high school guidance counselor who introduced him to what artists’ portfolios were, Sabree found a way to transform personal conflict into artistic expression. Now, his work not only addresses his journey but also mirrors the experiences of a wider community, offering a sense of connection and shared healing.
The Place of Storms | 2023, oil paint, mixed media, found objects on canvas, 65″ x 72″
Sabree draws inspiration from Philadelphia’s dynamic cultural landscape, a setting that shapes his work’s aesthetic and thematic depth. Through his “False Face” series, he presents a vivid, sometimes haunting portrayal of Black boyhood and manhood, aiming to unpack the complexities of Black masculinity shaped by American history and societal expectations. The series embodies a layered narrative, using symbolic elements—such as wax and gun shell casings juxtaposed on cerulean backgrounds—to highlight themes of institutionalization, innocence lost and the pervasive threat of violence. Sabree explains that these pieces respond to lived realities, merging his memories and broader social observations into powerful, collaged representations of today’s invisible yet deeply felt truths.
“Risk” in artistic work, therefore, goes beyond creative exploration. It encompasses the very real struggles artists face to sustain their practice amidst financial and institutional uncertainties (McRobbie, 2016). For many, this means balancing the need to create meaningful art with the necessity of earning a livelihood through low-paying, unstable work (Morgan & Nelligan, 2018). However, community-based activist art amplifies the voices and needs of communities, especially those experiencing hardship. Art in its many forms—folktales, theatre, or visual art—has historically served as a tool for cultural impact and social movement (Scott, 1992). Community art calls for individuals to recognize and question unjust systems through public murals, performances and installations, creating a ripple effect for potential social change. Art creates connections across diverse audiences, inviting them to engage, collaborate and consider new ideas.
Sabree in his studio (2024)
Sabree’s artistic process often includes what he refers to as “Friend Therapy,” a collaborative and reflective approach that underscores the collective nature of healing. “A lot of the people who I invite here to paint… realize that there’s a lot of overlap in a lot of our experiences,” he shares, illustrating how his studio becomes a space for shared catharsis. This approach not only informs the emotional depth of his work but also contributes to a larger conversation on vulnerability and expression within these communities.
Philadelphia, he notes, is a city often associated with anger and resistance. However, Sabree sees a different undercurrent: a profound sadness shaped by poverty and unspoken emotional struggles. “People say Philly is angry… but really it’s a lot of sadness that’s going on,” he reflects, shedding light on the burdens many Philadelphians carry silently. Through his art, Sabree seeks to address these hidden emotional landscapes, using visual storytelling to confront and disrupt narratives surrounding Black masculinity and the challenges of day-to-day life.
Sabree’s intensely personal and socially engaged work reflects a broader struggle for social justice and understanding within a system that often marginalizes these voices. By capturing his community’s beauty, pain and resistance, Sabree situates himself within a lineage of artists who challenge norms and demand space for more inclusive narratives. This way, his art not only acts as a vehicle for self-exploration but as a force for community-centered dialogue, giving voice to the often overlooked and pushing for a collective reimagining of what it means to grow up, live and create in Philadelphia.
Philadelphia’s vibrant and diverse art scene offers a powerful lens to examine the intersection of art, precarity and resistance. Artists like D’nae Harrison, Candy González and Nazeer Sabree confront themes of institutional stability, marginalization and systemic inequity, using their creative practices to critique and respond to systemic inequities. Their work underscores the transformative power of art, not only as a medium for personal reflection but also as a catalyst for social change, challenging oppressive structures and amplifying voices that are often silenced. These personal and collective narratives of resistance and collaboration thrive in Philadelphia’s dynamic art scene, fostering community and inspiring dialogue about overlooked issues. In an era of uncertainty, the stories and practices emerging from the margins remind us that art remains an essential force for healing and connection, imagining a more just world.
To learn more about Philadelphia’s vibrant arts ecosystem, visit Artist-Run Alliance.
Nidah Mohammed is a doctoral student at the Annenberg School for Communication and a Steering Committee Member at the Center for Media at Risk. Nidah studies art, emotion and curiosity among Philadelphia’s artists and the general community.