CURATION: Primrose Paul of 10 East Arts


Primrose Paul sits in an empty Re:Public gallery space.
Primrose Paul, Program Coordinator for 10 East Arts. Pictured in Re:Public between exhibitions.

Primrose Paul can dialogue. Meeting her is a conversation between the people present, but also with the space you’re in, the artwork surrounding you, and the time we’re living in. Primrose changed course from studying biology on a healthcare track to art history and exploring painting techniques along the way. Now she is the 10 East Arts Program Coordinator, stewarding the HUB, a community gathering and performance space, Re:Public gallery and artist residency, and public space art activations for the surrounding neighborhood.

Re:Public is one of the spaces Primrose curates through an artist residency program and community partnerships. We met there to discuss curating professional experiences for local artists, differences in indoor vs. outdoor artistic conversation, and an upcoming public art initiative, Art in Unexpected Places. Dig in to hear about Primrose’s experience with curating both private and public spaces, and the conversations that each of those strategies can spark.

This interview has been lightly edited for brevity and clarity.

Marissa Byers: Give us an introduction to the work you do, and how you came to this practice.

Primrose Paul: I started curatorial work in college. I switched my major halfway through, I wanted to be an art historian. I was scared when I got in there because I’m like, “I don’t know how to draw or paint.” One of the professors, he’s my mentor and we still have a great relationship, he asked: “Do you know what people do with art history degrees after they graduate? Nothing. So train to be an artist and learn something new.” I thought, “You know what? At this point, I might as well.” But I had this thought that I didn’t want to create to make money and feel like I will always be in survival mode.

My apartment was my safe space. I would put up paintings and mirrors, and figure out what the spatial experience of the person visiting my apartment would be. I ended up deciding that I love curating spaces, so that’s where I started. Then in 2020, as we remember the protests and everything happening, there was definitely a need for a space for conversation. Not just, “Hey, let’s just go talk about this,” but a space where the conversation could be triggered by art. I think my work started with a need for a space where we could have these tough conversations—racism, sexism, all the intersections there are to be talked about—centering art as something we could use to start the conversation about the hard things happening around us.

MB: I love seeing the connection of how you think about your personal space as invitational, and applying that to the work you are doing now.

PP: It’s the same thing we talked about coming here to Re:Public [when there’s a show versus when it’s empty]. When you see the artist transform the gallery into something new, it’s like, “I didn’t know the space could do that.” With the artist residencies we have done so far, everyone has had an opportunity to transform the space into something different. It’s interesting to see how everyone with their medium has their own way to present the space. Some will just put stuff on the wall, sometimes you’ll walk in here and it looks like a circus or a garden. It’s my favorite thing with this space, that everyone has a different way they can curate it and present it to you.

MB: Can you talk about the John Boner Neighborhood Centers’ history, acquiring and starting up both the HUB and Re:Public?

PP: This all started around 2018. These were all spaces created by the Boner Center in an effort to prevent displacement of people who already live in the neighborhood. One of the things the Boner Center does really well is approaching a whole person holistically—health, financials, but also creativity as something that can make a life better, help you think about change and what’s possible in a neighborhood. This space was born out of thinking about the whole person and how creativity can transform people.

People make these spaces whatever they want them to be. Most things that happen in the HUB, which is a little bigger, are performances or movie nights. In here, we see more visual art and exhibitions. The Boner Center made these spaces for artists that are affordable. Artists aren’t required to have a lease for the space, and they can use it for five consecutive days as their gallery, then someone else can use it and guests can have a completely different experience. I think that’s the whole point. You get to have all these people use these spaces and transform them into something different. But everything that goes in here has to be artist-centered or something to help engage or educate the community.

Re:Public, a gallery on the Near Eastside of Indianapolis. A stone and grey fronted building with two windowed garage doors that open into the space.
Re:Public Gallery on the Near Eastside of Indianapolis

MB: I love that kind of kaleidoscopic experience. What about the cohort of artists that you have each year?

PP: When I started here in 2024 the spaces were underutilized for a while. I was thinking about how to bring artists into the community and have affordable space for them to exhibit. There was that conversation with some artists that I knew and the ones who had existed in the space before, wanting space where they could just have their work up or be experimental about work that they wanted to do.

That was where my idea started. We now have short residencies where they have the space for a week. We built off the spirit of First Fridays, since that’s already in Indy. They also have a program sometime during that week where people come in and learn how to make art like that particular artist.

My first class was in 2025, and that was like a mixture of disaster and success because it was the first class trying to figure out how we’re going to submit work, how we’re going to accept people. It was successful, but it was also a mess. It was a learning experience.

This is a program where I’m offering you the space, and the expectation is you learn something, you’re able to get a hang of the space and market yourself to other people, invite other people to learn about your work. One of the things we had a problem with was submitting pictures of work or artists not having professional headshots. Some of them did not know how to document their work. These are all problems that we encountered, since we have to create graphics for you to use as marketing your exhibit.

For the 2026 class, I decided we’re going to take headshots, we’re going to take pictures for you to use, and then we’re going to have something that’s cohesive that we can use throughout the year. One of the things that I thought about from last year to this year was having stipends for the artists so that they’re not feeling used. During this time, we were also applying for grants to support this class of 2026 and the classes moving forward. We were lucky enough to get the grant that we applied for.

The other thing we did this year is we did an artist dinner. We invited all the artists that work with 10 East Arts, not just the ones in the class, but also those who collaborate and facilitate things that are not always held in this space. The whole point was making sure the artists we’re working with know each other. Some of this has enabled collaborations with the artists that are already in the class, which is something really nice to see. It’s like you’re having kids and your kids just end up working together. I’m like, “Oh my god, this is so cute.” I do love doing this work and seeing them come together and collaborate or work in other spaces, even outside of 10 East Arts.

MB: I love the balance of your role as curator of the space, but also curating people. Curating their experience together, curating the vision of how the group looks as something cohesive, and curating important skills for them as professionals.

One of the things that I’m really interested in is public art, art in communities. How do these gallery spaces interact with the neighborhood? How do you connect with neighbors and invite people into this space?

PP: One of the philosophies I hold is that I’m not doing this for me, but rather for other people who live in this neighborhood. When we have events, I like talking to people and getting to learn about what they think. Right now in the HUB, we have a wall with big blocks of color. You can take a sticky note and write what you think should be happening in the space, or what you want to see in neighborhood spaces.

When I started here, people already knew about the spaces. I didn’t want to reinvent something that already worked, with free things to do: being exposed to art, or watching a movie, or seeing a performance. I’m trying to increase the number of programs we have so things are happening here really consistently. We’re dipping our toes in all the things that you can do with art and creativity. Sometimes I talk to neighbors who didn’t know this space existed, so we’re collaborating more to bring everyone in.

MB: Moving out of the gallery into the neighborhood, tell us about Art in Unexpected Places.

PP: This was an idea started by Joanna Nixon around 2020. The point was having art in all the spaces you don’t expect, like an alleyway. The program we’re doing this year is public art along 10th Street. A lot of people do not like walking along 10th Street because it doesn’t feel safe to walk, there are a lot of empty buildings.

We applied for a grant from the City of Indianapolis to become a cultural district, got the designation, and also got the funds to do this project. It’s the same concept as Sidewalk Galleries downtown with the Indy Arts Council. We’re using storefronts that are occupied, but also some that are unoccupied, for murals.

One of the things that I did for this program that I think I will keep practicing is allowing people to vote for the art that they want to see in their neighborhoods. The people who live here have preferences, there are things that they want to see in their neighborhoods. Why don’t we just let the people vote for the art that they want to see?

One of the challenges with the project, as we’ve been marking up the spaces and doing measurements for the windows, is poor documentation. We’ve had to not accept artists because their work is poorly documented, which means it cannot be blown up to a bigger size to work on a storefront. For the next submissions that we have, I want to have a workshop where artists can come document their work. We’re also working with the people who own the sites. Some of these buildings have been not occupied for so long, it’s hard to track who owns this building and get signed MOUs for them to accept for us to put the art on the building. Then for the buildings that are occupied, they can be owned by one person but rented by another, which means you have to get two people to say yes.

MB: What do you hope will be the impacts of Art in Unexpected Places?

PP: There’s something that public art does to a space. Whenever I walk in a place and there’s a lot of art and it’s not just blank canvases, it does make me feel better about the space that I am occupying. That’s one thing I’m hoping that it does for the spaces—it will make them feel like spaces that are worth more investment and worthy of people occupying them and feeling safe walking through the spaces.

One of the art fellows from Arts for Learning had the idea to start an Annual Art Walk in 2024. We started a collaboration to cater to families on the Near East Side. Most of the art we show is from kids and schools, to help kids see themselves as exhibiting artists. This year, one different thing is definitely adding Art in Unexpected Places. The Art Walk will be the opening reception where people can actually walk around and experience this public art in the area. The whole point is exploring and looking at art and introducing yourself to the spaces around the Near East Side and learning what they do.

Neil Cain’s residency in the Re:Public gallery

MB: I have heard different perspectives on programming with public art. Some people think public art should stand alone and doesn’t need extra work after it’s installed. Other folks with more of that curatorial mindset are thinking about how are we help people understand art, interact with it, and not forget that it exists after it’s been installed. I’m curious about your thoughts on arts programming for things like Art in Unexpected Places, or maybe even just neighborhood murals. What’s your take on how programming adds to, or maybe does not add to, artwork?

PP: I think if something is just placed and we do not talk about it, we don’t see it anymore. When it’s there for a really long time and it’s not refreshed, it fades away into something we just see every day and we forget the importance of it being placed in the space.

I think things are not meant to last forever. I believe in the impermanence of art. Sometimes I just want to see something refreshed, something new, and then that way I think we’re keeping people on their toes and interacting with it. When I think about public art, it’s intertwined with programming. Maybe we should have programs where we just go sit in front of the art and we host the program there. Because then it’s like, “Okay, it’s there. I see it.” We talk about it.

Public art is still something I’m honestly trying to figure out. I’m always learning with every step of the way. This year has been where I’m trying to figure out, “Okay, what happens when art is not just in a space with four walls, but it’s out in an urban space, it’s interacting with weather and all that.” When you’re boxed in a space, it’s easier to figure out where things go and how four walls interact with each other rather than thinking about a whole globe interacting with one thing.

MB: How does your approach to curation change with public art, compared to when you’re in a gallery?

PP: In a gallery, I would start with a book, and I would go and write all my ideas down. But now that I’m thinking about public spaces, I go to the space and look at it first. With four walls, I can visualize that in my head and start placing things where they need to be. Four walls can do like a lot of storytelling together, rather than one place where you need to put all your story in one site.

Neil Cain’s July 2026 residency at Re:Public

MB: It’s interesting to think about our community spaces as something anyone can shape, and then as artists, how are we doing that or inviting people to interact with those spaces.

PP: People do like participating in arts in general. Whenever we have a mural where people can come and help put it together, it makes you feel like you’re part of a fabric. That does something to people, they want to keep engaging in the things that make their neighborhoods. One of the things that I love about public art is sometimes it does require a lot of participation from other people who are not just the artists, but volunteers.

It’s such a collaborative experience, rather than in a gallery where most of the time it’s just two people just deciding, “Hey, this should go here or we should move this there.” In public space, you know, if it’s a big sculpture, it’s not just you who’s going to put it up. You need like 4, 5, 10 other people to help you. You get to watch it come together when you’re having people participate.

We just had a mural up by the HUB and it’s an I-Spy mural. Seeing how people interacted with it, they were happy to be putting a brushstroke up, to be one of the people who like made this whole thing come to life. People just love being part of that.

MB: In a gallery, art can be more of an internal monologue as you observe it, or maybe a dialogue where you’re talking to a curator or a tour guide who’s explaining context. When you move outside into a public space, now it’s a conversation with many people who are experiencing the art, and what it means to them as a part of their community. It’s not just me making meaning myself, but us making meaning together.

PP: I think with public spaces, there’s also the lack of conversation, which means there’s a lot of people forming their own ideas which are not shared with other people. Most of the time when you’re interacting with public art, it’s either you’re walking by yourself, or with a friend. We don’t think about outdoor spaces as galleries that need to be curated in the same way that we think about like a space that’s enclosed.

If we’re not actively thinking about the public as like a gallery in itself, there’s a lack of conversation. I think that’s one place where public art can do better, starting these conversations. If I walk into a gallery, I definitely try to find an artist or at least another person and I will talk to them. But I don’t think the same process happens with public art. Although that could be a good thing, you just get to form your own ideas and just keep walking.

MB: It is interesting that the way spaces are set up has so much impact on if we’re going to start a conversation with a stranger, if we feel like we have entry points into a conversation. It’s so different just talking to a stranger, versus a programmed thing, like an art walk, where we are doing something planned together.

PP: The other thing about art, I think, is when you get into academia and you learn about all these things, then you have the language to talk about art and technique and all those things that are not in a normal conversation. Until someone gives you the language, sometimes it feels like there’s nothing to talk about. It’s just more like something to witness but not talk about. Programming allows people to learn the language to put thoughts together and talk with others about what they’re experiencing.

MB: That makes me think about the accessibility of art. It can often be something that is presented as highly academic or a fine arts culture. Are there ways that your work helps make art more participative and inviting to people who might not have experience with it?

PP: I think every gallery should always have a statement that tells you about the exhibition because that’s where the conversation starts. That’s why curatorial statements are necessary, even in public spaces. When we’re placing these things outside, it’s important that you have a reason as to why that is there or what it is and what it means. It breaks the ice and allows people to understand you. If you give me an idea of what you’re talking about, then I am able to agree with you or disagree with you. Curatorial statements, artist statements, or just having a resource where we have something online to read about it help you see something, understand, and talk about it.

Whenever we see things as just finished products, we don’t get to learn about the work that went into them. For our residency and the artist workshops that they host, you get to learn how they make their work, and then it does make more sense as to why this is the price of the art. I am always curious to learn about why things are the way they are. In our galleries, you can be curious and just talk to the artist because whenever we have programs in here, they’re also here. If you get to talk to the person, you get to learn more, and then you can disagree, agree, dig deeper, all of that.

MB: I encountered an essay that you wrote, Speculative future, speculative fiction. I was really intrigued by defining Afrofuturism as an imagination exercise and not just looking at past experiences and the commodification and stereotypes that racial experiences have created, but also being able to dream for what we want to see in the world and how we want to be together. On that vague theme, how does that show up in your work? What ways does that connect to the community that you work with and being able to imagine something different together?

PP: I would say my imagination lies purely on the programs that we do and the things that we’re able to do with what we have at the moment. I am still a student of Afrofuturism. With everything I keep learning, it goes back into exploring where you’re from to figure out where you’re going. I’ve learned from the artists and works that I’ve studied that sometimes when you are a Black artist or an artist of color, people always think that your art is connected to race. But sometimes it’s not. And that’s where the whole notion and conversation about Afrofuturism started for me.

I would say with my practice of Afrofuturism in my daily life, one of the things that I have I have started doing is exploring my own traditions. Whenever we think about the world and colonialism and how people are stripped of their identity, it’s hard to connect with yourself when you don’t really know yourself. For me it’s still an exercise that I am trying to do, still exploring, still talking to my grandparents, because that’s one place I have had knowledge about the past, learning from them. Some of them lived through colonialism I’m learning how that impacted the trajectory of their lives. I’m more looking into my past rather than my future to have a view of where Afrofuturism is taking me.

MB: When we’re thinking about places and physical spaces, like a neighborhood, do you see a connection with thinking about the past in order to dream about the future and how neighbors experience that too?

PP: Yes, definitely. I know about some of the past of the Near East Side, but I wouldn’t say that I’m an expert in the history of it. I’m learning why people might not feel comfortable coming into these spaces. Maybe they just don’t feel like they’re there for them. At the same time, whenever you’re in work that has to do with community engagement, you also have to understand that you cannot force people to come out and experience all those things. If you were used to not going to a place, it wouldn’t feel very usual for you to go into a space and feel space is meant for you. How are we breaking the barriers for that? You do have to get in there, learn, go into the neighborhoods and try to learn about them and what makes them feel safe.

To learn more about Primrose Paul and 10 East Art’s programs, visit: