By Marsian De Lellis
This article originally appears in the California Arts Council Individual Artist Fellowship Catalog, produced by Los Angeles Performance Practice in partnership with the California Arts Council. This activity is supported in part by the California Arts Council, a state agency. Learn more at www.arts.ca.gov
Dear Reader,
You’re in for a treat. What you’ve uncovered is a time capsule of artists—artists who not only sustain but radically reimagine the creative landscape of Los Angeles. They work in a region that ranks first in arts providers, yet—according to the Arts Vibrancy Index—a staggering 466th in state funding. As an artist, I know this paradox all too well. It fuels my commitment to advocacy as Director of Creative Resourcing for Los Angeles Performance Practice, a small but nimble arts organization with a big heart. At LAPP, I work to secure critical resources artists need—not just by raising capital, but by picking the locks of gatekeeping and, above all, cultivating a sense of belonging.
One of our most meaningful initiatives was the Individual Artist Fellowships provided by the State of California through the California Arts Council. In 2023, LAPP distributed $760,000 in unrestricted funding to 90 artists across disciplines and career stages. Support like this remains a rare chance to create, sustain, and sometimes—let’s be honest—simply survive. But money was only the starting point; through mentorship and institutional connections, we worked to fortify the fragile ecosystems artists depend on to thrive.
My approach to resourcing has always been rooted in activism. It began with the rallies I organized as a teenager, which helped pass the nation’s first LGBTQ+ student anti-discrimination law. I’ve carried that spirit into experimental puppetry and object performance, creating installations with dolls that memorialize obsessional lives. For me, championing artists means encouraging us to embrace our delusions—and push them even further into form.
This year I’m also serving as Director of Emerging Artists at the Eugene O’Neill Theater Center’s National Puppetry Conference, where the motto is “risk, fail, risk again.” That spirit of persistence resonates with me. So much of being an artist is about normalizing rejection and continuing anyway. This digital catalog serves as both a snapshot and a stratum: each layer testifying to the tenacity of culturemakers across generations. It honors artists whose work manifested through this fellowship, and countless others whose contributions enrich our creative fabric. If you weren’t selected, know that the outcome speaks more to scarcity than merit. The demand is there. The talent is there. Now it’s time for the resources to match.
This work came to life through many hands. I especially want to acknowledge Producer and former Director of Programs, Patricia Garza, who—with Claudia Diaz and William Ruiz Morales—built the scaffolding to realize this vision. Patricia shaped the Partner Council, gathering voices from all five districts and over 100 community organizations to guide outreach and center equity. They also connected artists with cultural institutions like Getty, MOCA, and Hammer, expanding the map of where emerging artists belong.
As every collection invites reflection, so does ours. LAPP traces its origins to the vision of founder Miranda Wright, who in 2010 set out to build a producing infrastructure linking artists between Los Angeles, Cuba, and Uganda. In those early years, Miranda did it all—handling paperwork, securing venues, even cleaning bathrooms after shows. Emerging from an ethos of international exchange, LAPP has evolved into what we now proudly call an “artist resourcing organization,” with Programs for Artists, Field Initiatives, the Live Arts Exchange [LAX] Festival, and Creative Producing projects. Like any excavation site, we keep brushing away what no longer holds, exposing new scaffolding beneath the
surface.
This catalog was never meant to be a sealed vault. It is both a living archive and a signal cast into the unknown—whether to future artists, or to distant civilizations who might someday stumble upon the creative traces we left behind. As you scroll through these pages, I invite you to lift the lid on the complicated, messy lives of artists whose work defines this fragile moment. These are the echoes we send forward. A small golden record from L.A. to the cosmos. The history of the future is being written right here, right now.
Until the next transmission,
Photo of Marsian De Lellis courtesy of Owen Scarlett and The Center for Provocative Thought
