The Work Before The Wall
- Isabelle Zamundu
- Jun 25
- 4 min read
Disclaimer: This day moved so quickly that I did not capture photos at the meeting itself, but please enjoy the intermittent photos I did get to occasionally break up the text!
When most people think about museums and curators, they probably imagine exhibitions, artworks, and gallery walls.
Recently, I learned that some of the most important curatorial work happens long before any artwork exists at all.
In preparation for a strategy meeting at Street Art Museum Amsterdam, I spent the day helping transform the museum into a space where conversation could happen. We cleaned, rearranged furniture, set up dining areas, working with the weather and prepared for a group of community members and volunteers who would be gathering to discuss the creation of a new mural project.
At first glance, these tasks might seem unrelated to curation. Yet by the end of the evening, I realized they were central to it.
One of the biggest lessons I have learned during my internship is that before taking action within a community, two questions must be asked:
Who is involved? How do we create the conditions for people to meaningfully participate?
The strategy meeting brought together volunteers from VoorUit, a social work organization that provides housing opportunities in exchange for community service. Before attending the meeting, participants completed training through STAR 2.0, an international initiative that uses street art as a tool for inclusion, participation, and community engagement.
What impressed me was that everyone entered the room with a shared foundation. In order to make serious progress, they require a shared understanding of purpose. Before discussing logistics, designs, or timelines, participants first engaged with a common set of ideas and theoretical frameworks. It was a reminder that successful community projects require more than enthusiasm.
The mural itself is intended for a site beneath a bridge that connects two distinct neighborhoods. Large concrete supports rise from a narrow river below, creating expansive surfaces that seem to be asking for color and life. Currently, the area feels somewhat disconnected. It is poorly lit and often serves as a passageway rather than a destination.
The hope is that through public art, the site can become something more: a place that encourages movement, interaction, and connection between neighboring communities.
Creating that kind of transformation, however, requires more than paint.
Throughout the meeting, I watched experienced community organizers and artists discuss how participation could be encouraged at every stage of the project. One of those artists was Cika Schulz, a street artist who formerly spent time as a SAMA intern whose experience with collaborative projects helped guide the conversation.
What stood out to me was her approach to leadership. Rather than directing the group from above, she offered suggestions, asked questions, and shared lessons from previous projects. Her role felt more like mentorship than management. Instead of creating hierarchy, she helped create dialogue.
Watching these conversations unfold taught me a great deal about what productive collaboration looks like. Everyone brought different experiences, skills, and perspectives to the table, yet the focus remained on finding solutions together. They also generously had their conversations in English, so I could understand and offer input of my own occasionally.
Earlier that day, while preparing vegetable skewers for the evening meal, I had the chance to speak with Pim, who works within VoorUit's communications team. Our conversation moved from art history to organizational structures and eventually to the challenges faced by cultural institutions today.
Because we both come from academic backgrounds rooted in art history, we found ourselves discussing museums and the different ways institutions operate in the Netherlands and the United States. We shared a similar conclusion: meaningful change requires flexibility.
Many traditional cultural institutions were built on rigid organizational models that can make adaptation difficult. In contrast, the people gathered around this project seemed committed to a more collaborative approach. Responsibilities were distributed, ideas moved freely, and individuals supported one another's work rather than competing for authority.
Again and again, I found myself noticing the same pattern. People from vastly different backgrounds had come together because they cared deeply about helping their communities flourish.
There was Marcel, whose Surinamese cooking regularly brings people together during museum events and Friday borrels. There were community organizers, artists, volunteers, communications specialists, and youth workers. Each person contributed something different, but all were working toward a shared goal.
The mural project itself still has many steps ahead. Participating groups must agree upon a final design, and community involvement remains a key objective. One requirement is gathering signatures from local children, ensuring that young people are actively included in the process rather than simply observing the finished result.
Yet perhaps the most valuable thing created that evening was not a design proposal or project timeline.
It was a space.
A space where people could share ideas. A space where different forms of expertise were valued. A space where community members could imagine together what their neighborhood might become.
As an intern, I arrived expecting to learn about street art. Instead, experiences like this are teaching me something equally important about curation.
Being a curator is not only about selecting artworks or organizing exhibitions. It is about creating the conditions that allow people, ideas, and communities to come together. It is about making space: for conversations, for creativity, and for people simply to be present with one another.
The mural will eventually transform a physical space beneath a bridge. But before that transformation can happen, another kind of space must be created first.
The people gathered around the table that evening showed me exactly how that begins.
