Garden of Voices: Where Eco-consciousness Meets Performance
Left: Nicole Jackson; right: Kasey Broekema.
On September 14th and 15th, 2024, interdisciplinary dance non-profit Project III and sustainability initiative Embodied Earth presented their inaugural collaboration, Garden of Voices. Headed by Kasey Broekema and Nicole Jackson respectively, the two organizations center the event around fostering climate awareness, kickstarting community dialogue, and inspiring attainable action. In an interview with Xuezhu Jenny Wang, Broekema and Jackson discuss the details of their collaboration and how their “pod” structure integrates various disciplines seamlessly. They also offer invaluable insights on socially informed entrepreneurship that opens up the art world.
Xuezhu Jenny Wang: How did you meet, and when did you start thinking about creating art together?
Kasey Broekema: I met Nicole through a university alumni mentorship program after I had just officially incorporated Project III. I went in thinking it’d be another coffee chat and didn’t expect to have much to offer as a mentor, but when Nicole pitched the seed of what eventually became Embodied Earth, I was struck by their boldness and tenacity right away. I admired Nicole’s dedication. Early on, many collaborators disappear if the idea doesn’t materialize immediately or if there’s no instant funding. Nicole, however, was all in, willing to stick through the uncertainties.
XJW: Nicole, what was going through your mind when you first pitched the idea?
Nicole Jackson: Honestly, I wasn’t too excited about another coffee chat either. But after hearing about Kasey’s journey with Project III, I felt an instant connection.
Embodied Earth was an idea that had been swirling in my mind for a while. It came from a paper I wrote for an art history course during my senior year. The professor tasked us with conceptualizing an exhibit, and I decided to write about ecofeminist artists—how they explore femininity, agency, and the relationship between bodies and the environment. The interconnectedness of our bodies and the Earth fascinated me, and I wasn’t ready to let go of the idea. Meeting Kasey felt serendipitous because she believed in me and offered so much support for me to bring this vision to life.
KB: After Nicole pitched this idea, I immediately saw how it aligns with Project III’s focus on movement and the body. Nicole’s willingness to explore intersections of sustainability, climate justice, and the arts was a perfect fit.
Garden of Voices. Courtesy of Project III and Embodied Earth.
XJW : This reminds me of a chapter from the book Mothers of Invention that discusses ecofeminism and the parallels between violence against women and the environment.
NJ: Exactly. There’s so much gendered language and violence in how we talk about the Earth—terms like “pillaging” and “rape” are used for violence against both women and the environment.
XJW: Could you tell us more about how Garden of Voices came to be?
NJ: For Garden of Voices, we focused on themes like composting, urban gardening, and climate resilience. A grant from the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council gave us the resources to begin, and our community partner, The Brotherhood Sister Sol, was incredible. They steward the Frank White Memorial Garden and do wonderful work with youth organizing and engagement.
We developed a “pod” structure where each team includes a choreographer, a researcher, and a visual artist. Our inaugural collaborators—fiber artist Nicki Koning, choreographer Maqks Gross, researcher Allison Su, composer Georgia Dahill-Fuchel, and performer-choreographers Ashley Cassetta, Kyra Lin, and Holly Harkins—were instrumental in bringing the project to life. The six-week whirlwind production timeline definitely pushed everyone to their limits, but it also inspired a lot of creative and innovative thinking. All of their ideas are inextricable from each other to create the final performance. The pod structure encourages and almost enforces collaborative thinking from the start. We encourage cross-disciplinary co-creation by activating pre-existing environments, reducing waste, and integrating audiences into the art-making process. Instead of hosting separate events, we bring everyone together in one cohesive space. We also wanted the audience to feel like active participants, empowered to rethink their own environments.
KB: Yes, our collaboration through the pod structure ensured true interdisciplinarity, where everyone had agency, and no one had to jump through hoops to be heard. As liberating as it was, it presented challenges since hierarchy often serves a structural purpose. It felt like venturing into uncharted territory and pushed us out of our comfort zone.
Garden of Voices. Courtesy of Project III and Embodied Earth.
XJW: What feedback did you get from the audience about the event? Any surprising or interesting comments?
KB: I was nervous about how the audience would receive the project, but the feedback was incredible. Our audience ranged from teenagers to seniors in their 80s, representing diverse communities and backgrounds. One moment that stood out was when a group of senior ladies, part of a Harlem dance group, shared how much the performance resonated with them. Another time, a local artist who lived next door came in. Seeing how the performance sparked conversations in the community was deeply humbling.
NJ: During the daytime programming, a young child walking by with his grandmother saw Nicki’s artwork and was curious enough to come inside. He got to interact with the installation, contribute to a papier-mâché turtle later used in the performance, and even dig into the compost.
XJW: What’s the connection between sustainability and performance? How does performance nuance sustainability discourses?
NJ: There’s a lot of waste in fine arts and performing arts—costumes, set designs, drywall in galleries, or the pouring of cement to install a statue, most of which, unfortunately, end up in the trash. Historically, there hasn’t been much emphasis on reuse in major institutions. But that’s starting to change.
Organizations like Artists Commit and the Gallery Climate Coalition are creating tools to help cultural spaces become more transparent about their carbon footprints and adopt more sustainable practices. When we worked with Artists Commit, for instance, they made it clear from the beginning that they were not trying to dictate or change our mode of operations; instead, they emphasized small changes along the way. We kept hearing a phrase from one of their liaisons: "Do you really need that?” Whether it was ordering something from Amazon or scheduling extra rehearsals, Kasey and I would look at each other and just be like: “Do we need that?”
KB: And questions like this made us realize that sustainability in performance will serve not only the environment—it’s also about the people. It’s about ensuring that projects are manageable and meaningful for everyone involved, from the creators to the community. This approach creates a symbiotic relationship where goals can be achieved efficiently.
Garden of Voices. Courtesy of Project III and Embodied Earth.
XJW: When I think about sustainability, my mind goes to a somewhat subtractive process—using fewer materials. Does this feel limiting?
KB: To answer directly—no, I don’t feel limited. If anything, it has completely transformed how I approach my work. I came in with this bias about being super precise and getting all the terms right; I initially felt intimidated by all the carbon calculators, using the right language, etc. In time, I learned that it’s about how to open up these terms and operate sustainably within myself and my team. It’s about setting small, intentional goals and avoiding getting bogged down by external pressures. If you come in with sustainability in your mindset, everything else falls into place naturally.
To return to the overarching action of subtractability, there’s of course the question of scope. We want to grow our organization and scale up, but how can that be done sustainably? For instance, after a Hollywood or Met Opera production where stages and sets are built at massive scales, what’s a sustainable approach that can incorporate community? Perhaps instead of putting it in a warehouse for years, what about other startups? What about these non-profits that don’t have an operating budget and need something for their set? There are so many ways to give back.
NJ: Exactly. Working with constraints—like limited time or budget—can actually spark innovation. In our recent project, we had six weeks and a small budget, yet the results were remarkable. We pushed ourselves and our collaborators out of our comfort zones. We asked dancers to perform in natural environments, artists to leave their studios, and researchers to inform performances—all without the luxury of elaborate setups. And the creativity that emerged was incredible.
What’s more, this intentional approach had ripple effects on our community partners. After the project, they started envisioning new ways to use their spaces, like hosting movie nights or silent discos in their community garden. Hearing that feedback and keeping this connection alive felt really rewarding.
XJW: That’s amazing—creation through limitation. Who are the target audiences for your projects, and what changes do you hope to inspire in the arts and cultural arena?
KB: We have two audiences: artists and the public. Ideally, these roles become interchangeable. Even if someone isn’t an artist professionally, their participation makes them part of the process. The art world often operates in silos, which leads to gatekeeping and limits growth. We want to change that by fostering more discussion across disciplines. For example, we’ve worked with architects, sustainability experts, designers, and dancers—zigzagging across definitions of art.
NJ: I truly believe that art will always find a way to flourish, regardless of constraints. What’s exciting is how intentionality and collaboration can amplify that process. For us, our audience includes the artists we work with, our event attendees, and our community partners. Our mission is deeply tied to site-specificity and community collaboration. I’d love to see more cultural organizations bridge the divide between art production and environmental groups to co-create meaningful work.
Garden of Voices. Photo by Xuezhu Jenny Wang.
XJW: As women entrepreneurs and leaders, what are some highlights, lowlights, or advice you’d share with others?
KB: The advice I always give, and the mantra I live by, is: don’t wait for permission. Especially as women, we are often told that we need to wait for invitations or validation, but you don’t need that. Tap into your communities, take action, and give back. If you have an idea, chase it—no project will ever feel perfect. Start with what you have, and know that more opportunities will follow. It’s okay not to have all the answers. The key is to commit to action.
Also, one major lesson from Project III has been to let go of ego. Instead of comparing yourself to others or feeling jealous, support your community and learn from what works. Build connections rather than gatekeeping. The more art and collaborations we nurture, the better off we all are.
NJ: I completely agree. In environmental art, there’s no room for competition—only collaboration and coalition-building. As Kasey said, a key lesson I’ve learned from Garden of Voices is the importance of ego-free teamwork. When leading, you’re often asking your team to step into the unknown and take risks. Trusting them fully is essential. Take care of your artists, too. They’re at the heart of everything.
XJW: Is there anything else you’d like to share?
NJ: Please stay tuned for Embodied Earth’s new website that we are working on! Kasey and I are also thrilled to announce that we received the 2024–25 Assembling Voices Fellowship and will continue our collaboration in Spring 2025.
KB: To anyone reading this: never stop making your art, no matter the scale or scope. It’s beautiful and important.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
