Andrea Steves is an artist, curator, researcher, and organizer currently based in Brooklyn. Her recent projects deal with museums and public history, monuments and memorials, and the complex legacies of the Cold War. Andrea also works in the collective FICTILIS and the Center for Hydrosocial Studies, and is co-founder of the Museum of Capitalism. She is currently a visiting scholar at the Center For Capitalism Studies at The New School.
As told by Laressa Dickey:
Andrea Steves is a default collaborator/social activist at heart. Her art is making art ad infinitum with others; conversations, possibilities, small details become part of an ever-moving-forward conversation about what we might make together (we, in this case, being people who are interested in questions, in social deviation, in experiments in odd and queer forms). She has never seen Star Wars, and this is a badge of honor, meaning that her imagination has not been colonized by two or three generations of Hollywood infiltration. It means that she scratches around for truth, for connections in relationships that might move forward into a flow of making--whether performance, text, soundscore, film, she's got eyes and ears in the back of her head and her mind moves at 100 mph. Andrea is scrappy and knows how to make the meal (ideas, money, etc) go further because she is a magician at iterative forms.
According to Rose Linke:
If you and Andrea Steves cross paths, you should know some things. She has ideas about what might be possible and she wants to get you involved. You will probably end up making dinner together, stoking some proverbial or actual fire, talking late into some night somewhere. Before you know it, you are definitely planning to quit your job, join the cause. There is, after all, so much to do. Together you will probably make a grant proposal or an installation or a performance or a publication. She will, without a doubt, introduce you to people along the way, people who are also ready to really look and question, dismantle and reimagine. If there is a patch of sun, you will find her there, soaking it in. Otherwise, she moves quickly and it may be tough for you to keep up. She probably just got off a plane. One day, you might end up on a kitchen floor across the country, taking the batteries out of a hundred transistor radios, before cooking a lobster some sea captain gifted her hours before. You may very well end up in front of a camera and under some lights, speaking a language that isn’t your own. Or, at least metaphorically. She will show you that every conversation can become a project. The potential is right there, before your eyes, and it has been there all along.