Jamie Sherman:

Welcome to the Michigan Minds Podcast, where we delve into the rich expertise of faculty specialists at the University of Michigan. I’m Jamie Sherman, a cultural and arts journalist and PR advocate for the Michigan News Office. I’m pleased to introduce Nick Tobier, educator in Art and Design at the Penny Stamps School of Art and Design, who emphasizes collaborative endeavors in public domains and the potential of shared spaces. Nick is the co-creator of the Brightmoor Makerspace in Detroit, in cooperation with Detroit Community Schools. On some occasions, youth and adults refine their artistic skills and nurture business ideas, while on other days they get the chance to showcase their work at the Venice Architecture Biennale. Welcome, Nick.

Nick Tobier:

Thank you, Jamie. I greatly appreciate the invitation.

Jamie Sherman:

Absolutely. Let’s dive right into it. Please share the motivation behind establishing the Brightmoor Makerspace.

Nick Tobier:

Sure. So, the Brightmoor Makerspace emerged after I discovered this institution, Detroit Community Schools, which still exists, founded on Waldorf principles aimed at educating the whole person—intellect, emotion, and hands-on skills. When I arrived around 2009, many practical programs had been sidelined because of poor performance in standardized assessments and potential state oversight or closure. It’s classified as a Public Charter Academy, thus a charter school, but the original founders remained. Bart Eddy, who previously taught at the Detroit Waldorf School, Candice Sweda, gym instructor Ken Dargan, and Marcel Amonra joined me to begin reintroducing numerous hands-on activities during after-school hours and weekends, and it naturally expanded from there. I had an idea to construct a bamboo bike trailer, something I had never assembled before.

I’m not sure why I thought this was a worthwhile concept, but we had several kids interested. We gathered bamboo, a hacksaw, and a wrench, aiming to use children’s bikes to create this apparatus. We successfully constructed it, and one of the eighth graders, Erica Cross, asked, “What will be our next project?” At that moment, I had not considered what would follow. I believed we were just building the bamboo bike trailer for fun, thinking that was it, but I realized there were individuals anticipating more to come.

Now, 16 years have passed, and a lot has transpired. We evolved from a program that had been marginalized to possessing our own facility, to considering how we might engage more hands-on skills that were evidently captivating. Many of the students who joined us were often categorized as learning-disabled or faced disciplinary issues, but honestly, they just struggled to remain still. Realizing that fidgeting is natural for kids, especially for a 14-year-old boy, reinforces the necessity to be active, which transitioned from operating in the hallways to utilizing a classroom, to now having a 3200 square foot former Ford garage on the school campus, which continues to thrive and is an incredible venue.

Jamie Sherman:

That sounds amazing. What specific skills do they develop at the Makerspace, and what projects are they typically focused on?

Nick Tobier:

Great question. At times, we could be described as staunchly low-tech. People frequently offer us 3D printers, which we tend to decline because they often malfunction and the filament is pricey, plus during our previous experiences with them, participants would usually just create cell phone cases. We emphasize hands-on craftsmanship with power tools, and while these tools can be dangerous, we work with straightforward dimensional lumber for projects. We construct a variety of furniture, create living edge tables, and are currently exploring fashions such as tie-dying, screen printing, and jewelry. Our work has progressed from furniture making to constructing small living spaces, which is our next venture. I hesitate to call this a frontier because it carries too colonial a connotation, but we are crafting concepts that one could reside in, though they currently lack sewage systems.

Our broader vision includes collaborating with some HBCUs. Attracting teachers into our school isn’t overly difficult, yet it remains a challenge like it is for all schools, and we require educators who will embrace our students in a manner that transcends merely teaching the subject matter, recognizing that many of our students have tumultuous lives outside of school, and often bring that chaos into the classroom. It’s not that they’re inattentive or disengaged; they often listen while multitasking.

While we produce furniture and engage in woodworking, I often remind people that we’re not training professional woodworkers, but instead cultivating creative confidence so that after using a chop saw for the first time or confronting something intimidating, they realize that they are capable of achieving things they previously thought impossible. This shifts the focus from merely enduring life to exploring what future possibilities they might pursue.

Jamie Sherman:

That must be incredibly empowering, I would assume.

Nick Tobier:

If you visit, you’ll be pleasantly surprised. I would describe it as unexpectedly serene for a space filled with 45 teenagers and power tools; the calmness isn’t enforced, but rather stems from the concentration of the students. We play music, and people converse, yet it is an intense environment.

Jamie Sherman:

Regarding creative confidence, I’m curious, how do the ideas develop for future projects, and what direction do they typically take?

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Will the initiative be established, or do they have the chance to suggest concepts for activities?

Nick Tobier:

Absolutely, the projects are quite impressive. Allow me to share an example. A few summers back, we had a chance to collaborate with the city of Detroit on an edifice located in a local park, which includes several buildings affiliated with the Detroit Land Bank. We managed to obtain these through the Land Bank and operate a distinct non-profit entity that currently owns ten parcels of unoccupied land adjacent to our site. We created visions and models for how you might envision utilizing the vacant land, and therein lies my aspiration of collaborating with HBCUs, aiming to recruit a new cohort of educators who would inhabit our cluster of tiny homes that we are constructing alongside a studio that serves as a communal work area right across the street.

At present, we have transformed those lots from neglected areas, where dumping was a common sight every weekend, into a vibrant musical playground, a park featuring a band shell. We initiated a dialogue about what types of establishments people would like to see, such as a shoe shop or a bakery—ideas that emerged from the youth. One intriguing concept, contributed by D’Angelo, is a hybrid between an animal rescue and a pet shop. Given the abundance of stray dogs in the community, especially pit bull mixes, there’s often a tension between affection and hostility with certain dogs.

The concept involves capturing problematic dogs, rehabilitating them, and facilitating their adoption. While many of these ideas may seem far-fetched, once you start crafting, you realize, “Oh, we constructed something with a roof that I can actually enter.” It’s beyond mere production; we are currently developing what we’re calling the Brightmore marketplace, crafted from donated lumber and exquisite wood. If a tree falls in your yard, we will gladly remove it, milling it into usable timber. We can create stunning, upscale cutting boards that we refer to as charcuterie boards in Ann Arbor and simply as cutting boards in Brightmore, but they truly are exquisite. We’re planning to participate in the Ann Arbor Farmer’s Market, specifically the artisans market, at some point, and we have performed quite well locally with our endeavors.

Jamie Sherman:

That’s fantastic. Please elaborate; I’m aware that the Makerspace secured federal NEA funding on two occasions for these neighborhood pavilions. Can you elaborate on that initiative?

Nick Tobier:

Of course. The initial NEA funding was designated for the Makerspace itself, along with support from entities like the Knight Foundation and the community foundation for Southeast Michigan, as well as the Fisher Foundation. The neighbor pavilions project originated during the COVID pandemic, when accessing our children’s computers became problematic. The only devices we could procure were outdated Chromebooks that lacked reliable Wi-Fi. Imagine a small 700 square foot home with five children attempting to attend school in the same area, resulting in many kids falling behind. Once Governor Whitmer permitted outdoor work, we devised a plan to construct what we termed outdoor classrooms.

How could we safely gather people with public health being a priority? Our community in Brightmoor experienced substantial COVID-related fatalities early on, including one of our bus drivers and a lunch lady within a month. Thus began the creation of these aesthetically pleasing structures, which feature a distinctive three-part roof. We initiated activities there, fostering in-person connections by May 2020. The first pavilion was established in a vacant lot behind the Makerspace, and we constructed benches for the children and neighbors to engage with one another outside their homes.

The initial neighbors’ pavilions consisted of that one and a larger 900 square foot version at St. Suzanne’s Community Action Center, which we managed to complete the following year and has been consistently programmed since. It has hosted day camps, mayoral debates in Detroit, and a dinner church that met there during the pandemic, where the pastor delivered sermons while attendees listened from their cars, receiving meals delivered to them. We have constructed five of these throughout Brightmoor, all easily identifiable as they share a similar three-part roof structure. I take great pride in having designed something that is built in public and remains standing, all constructed with the involvement of youth who are compensated for their work. It’s essential to highlight this is not unpaid labor, and we have seen numerous stamped students engage in these constructions. Some spaces are open access, while others require scheduling.

Jamie Sherman:

So, it was established for a very specific aim back then.

Nick Tobier:

Exactly, and it has expanded.

Jamie Sherman:

And it has indeed expanded. Now, these serve as communal spaces that are available for use.

Nick Tobier:

Some locations are quite accessible; for example, there’s one at Outer Drive and Burt Road, known as Prayer Park. You can simply drop in, while others are affiliated with faith organizations or public institutions such as schools, and you can generally come by. Our first pavilion is marked by a series of makeshift extension cords, and there’s an individual who leads what I can only describe as free jazzercise. He brings a boombox and gives it everything he’s got, drawing in participants.

Jamie Sherman:

That sounds delightful.

Nick Tobier:

Indeed.

Jamie Sherman:

How did the neighbor’s pavilions initiative pave the way for you to present at the Venice Architecture Biennale? I understand that this event was taking place from summer into fall.

Nick Tobier:

Interestingly, I was walking into the Makerspace one day when a call came from one of the curators. He introduced himself and informed me, “You are featured in the US Pavilion in Venice.” This presented a chance to share proposals, which I had fortunately been keeping an eye out for. This year’s theme is called Porch, the Architecture of Generosity, I find it incredibly beautiful and characteristically American that such informal structures exist, which are both attached to homes and serve as spaces for greeting neighbors. We proposed this project, as many in the community refer to them as porches, albeit these are porches not connected to homes.

Over the years, as Brightmoor has experienced population decline due to suburban migration, economic challenges, and significant neglect—including arson and a lack of public facilities—people have often left when neighborhood schools are decommissioned. Thus, these social structures, while not physically connected to residences, function in similar capacities.

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as a veranda. Therefore, the curators were seeking constructions that embodied the essence of a porch, and we were invited to characterize the essence of a porch. Each of the exhibitors, including some of the most renowned architects and firms in the United States today, alongside us, presented a window designed to reflect the concepts of their project, yet not to serve as a replica of it. I take great pride in the fact that ours does not resemble a model of ours, even though I have been informed that many installations appear similar to architectural models. Ours is undeniably distinct. Should I attempt to illustrate it for the audience listening?

Jamie Sherman:

Yes, please do.

Nick Tobier:

Alright, everyone possesses what is referred to as a porch window, and ours features an antique casement window on one side, resembling the casement windows of older residences in Brightmoor, which were constructed approximately between the 1920s and 1950s. It’s painted over, like many of them, for both privacy and insulation. There’s one pane that is unlatched, allowing you to peek inside, and if you’re clever, you may open it, or if you’re curious, you’ll pull it open to reveal the complete scene adjacent to that window, which resembles a hybrid of a small dresser and an apartment complex.

When you glance inside, you’ll discover a map of Brightmoor illustrating a street layout, showing where vacancies and standing houses are located. In one of the remaining drawers rests a photograph of the team that constructed the buildings. Upon opening it, there is an exquisite line from a poem authored by one of our recent high school alumnus, Perseus Skipper, stating, “10 dreams for all to share.” However, the complete poem is featured in a video accessible via QR code, for which I will provide the link, wherein Perseus recites the poem, and the youth walk towards our pavilion, which deeply moves me as they engage with one another and the space they created.

Thus, the full experience involves, instead of doing what I used to do—taking a picture of a QR code with my phone and following the link to hear the poem and view the video—even for those unable to reach Venice. I’m extremely enthusiastic that we will attend the closing ceremony. Perseus, who is a poet, softball player, and currently a freshman at Oakland Community College, alongside Kaiman Griffin, a freshman at EMU and myself, will be going, and they may speak; perhaps I’ll say a few words as well. I’m eager for them to be part of the US Pavilion in Venice.

Jamie Sherman:

How did they respond when they discovered they would be included in this prominent international festival?

Nick Tobier:

There was an entire series of events, from boarding a plane to obtaining a passport to traveling to Italy. They’ve invested considerable time researching Italy, particularly Venice. I found the process of acquiring a passport quite enlightening. If you lack a photo ID, it’s rather complicated, and there are numerous aspects we often take for granted. Collaborating with some of the most brilliant and inventive young individuals I’ve encountered, who have succeeded despite institutional challenges, has taught me not to overlook these details. However, obtaining an ID without one is quite a challenge, and we accomplished it. I almost felt like we had completed the journey after securing it. Perseus’s voice resonates through the pavilion regularly as people watch the video, which is truly remarkable, and I eagerly anticipate experiencing this alongside them.

Jamie Sherman:

Certainly. I’m curious about your background, particularly since you teach at an Art and Design school and are presenting at an architecture festival. What is that experience like for you? Do you often work across both festival scenes?

Nick Tobier:

I was a graduate student in landscape architecture, so the realm of design significantly shapes my practice and self-perception, which I describe as kind of public construction. The structures I create typically align with the small architecture scale. Sometimes they resemble sculptures, yet I feel fortunate to navigate both the art and design domains. Venice alternates between the Architecture Biennial and the Art Biennial. I believe I am likely more comfortable in the architectural sphere since the inquiries I grapple with in my work are often social and cultural, and maybe more grounded in everyday use than the magnificent creativity we often link to work produced in studios and exhibited that way.

Therefore, it makes total sense to me. They’ve constructed a porch on the exterior of this quite formal neoclassical structure where what are called porch talks occur in Venice. They’ve rendered a structure more approachable. This is particularly poignant for me at a moment when many perceive the United States as potentially an unwelcoming space, trying to showcase the design practices of the world as something inherently communal and social. I feel extremely fortunate that our work in Brightmoor resonates so well with this exhibition this year.

Jamie Sherman:

Absolutely. To conclude, what lies ahead for the Makerspace and for you personally?

Nick Tobier:

The significant goal is if we can realize what we believe we are capable of, knowing we can construct a structure that is livable. If we can navigate city regulations and understand what it entails to potentially develop a shared septic system while obtaining permits, transitioning from residential zoning, and securing a commitment from enough individuals willing to inhabit these structures and devote a few years to teaching, we have examples, such as Cass Community Services in Detroit, where Reverend Faith Fowler facilitated the building of numerous tiny house communities, partially funded by David Lee Roth. I do not quite grasp that relationship or its origins, nor am I certain I’m even accurate in that respect, but that’s what she relayed to me. There’s a kind of cultural barrier we must overcome; we probably ought to stop referring to them as tiny houses. They are small homes, yet entering them doesn’t invoke feelings of being punished. They’re not a clubhouse, yet they could be. The next step is to delineate this and see if we can make it happen.

Jamie Sherman:

We’ll need to conduct a follow-up interview then. That sounds incredibly intriguing.

Nick Tobier:

I hope to extend an invitation for everyone to come visit. Yes.

Jamie Sherman:

Wonderful, thank you immensely.

Nick Tobier:

Thanks a lot for having me.

Jamie Sherman:

We appreciate your listening to this episode of Michigan Minds, produced by Michigan News, a division of the University’s Office of the Vice President for Communications.