Youth Collectives and the Nurture Economy

In my final year of university, I felt unfulfilled. No coursework, internships or independent projects satisfied my creative needs. Inspired by art movements, I joined three friends to start a collective: ROOD.

In March 2023, we began by combining our different disciplines, which rarely intersected in a traditional academic setting. We came from filmmaking and design backgrounds but decided to actively seek fine artists, musicians, fashion designers and anyone from a field unknown to us for projects that bend between all disciplines. 

Since then, ROOD has become our way of democratising the creative process, documenting the stages of art-making with an emphasis on the journey rather than the final result, and amplifying the voices behind it. Above all, we believe in championing youth culture. We work across a range of projects from mini profile docs showcasing artists to events that merge between a rave and an exhibition. We also support others by producing their projects in our approach. While we don’t distinctly focus on a topic, we value depth and collaborative thinking. 

ROOD is just a droplet in the vast ocean of group action that stretches throughout history. The term “collective” has long been synonymous with creative fields, existing for at least as long as modern art itself. We all know that collectives, at their core, represent a group of people coming together under a shared belief, identity or aesthetic preference.

Most modern art eras were born from groups of friends united in opposition to some aspect of society. 

Since the early 20th century, this structure has played a crucial role in shaping modern art and how we engage with it. Many art movements, such as Dadaism or Surrealism, began with individuals gathering to develop new concepts and approaches to engaging with their reality.

This momentum grew stronger in the 1960s when youth culture took on its contemporary form worldwide. Some, like the UK’s Art & Language, sought to break away from traditional art, emphasising conceptuality. Others, such as the Spiral Group, focused on marginalised identities and systemic issues. Japan’s Gutai Art Association focused on specific Avant Garde mediums and styles. These are just some that come to mind. Across the globe, collectives became vessels for anti-establishment ideals, for dreamers wanting to forge new methods or realities.

Today in London, where I live, they are everywhere. From magazines to event organisers, many of them started as collectives. More recently, UK galleries and museums have started collectives of their own. In 2019, four artists collectively split the Turner Prize, declaring their action in the name of “commonality, multiplicity and solidarity”.

But the concept of creative collectives has noticeably evolved, at least in my circles, with younger generations shaping its definition to emphasise connectivity. After all, as it has been well documented, we increasingly feel lonely. The pandemic highlighted the importance of support networks and collaborative efforts in navigating challenging times. So it is hardly surprising that the phrase “the nurture economy” has emerged in relation to collectives, suggesting a focus on mutual support and growth within these groups. 

Some of my best memories come from events hosted by collectives. Speaking with Francis-Xavier Ssuna, founder of Audio.Sync, he tells me that he started his collective to create an environment that would bring out the best in him and others. His music collective regularly collaborates with venues to host jams, writing sessions and live events.

“(It's about) emphasising how important connection and feedback is in a world increasingly devoid of spaces for people to connect freely and authentically – they foster deep relationships and open us up to new ideas and ways of being in a digital dystopia.”

Like Audio.Sync, 3EIB is another community-led platform that holds events for designers. Its founder, Dania Arafeh, describes it as “a fashion platform celebrating creative practitioners from South West Asia and North Africa (SWANA).” She launched it after a trip to Palestine, her homeland, driven by a desire to elevate SWANA creatives on the global stage and by “the belief that creativity can be a form of resistance.”

Though 3EIB began as a space for SWANA diaspora conversations, it now includes all members of the global majority and stands in solidarity against rising discrimination and fascism. Dania says, “I believe resistance must be rooted in shared values of love and communication to transform trauma into meaningful action and self-determined systems of care.”

I also like Resolve, which combines design with social change through community programs, and Baesianz, which champions artists of Asian backgrounds through events and publications. They also have a football club. Elsewhere, Tribe is another identity-focused community that I appreciate. It has been steadily growing and throwing events for marginalised people, particularly black and queer individuals who can’t access the emotional and creative support they need. Film collectives have always been a big reference for me – I am, after all, a filmmaker – especially T A P E, whose platform showcases underrepresented voices in the industry. All of the organisations I have mentioned provide their communities with admirable support. 

In a culture that increasingly demands that we work alone, young people are exhausted. We crave spaces where we can create alongside other people, whether for a shared purpose or for resistance or simply for joy.

New collectives continue to emerge and grow because we are looking for change. Just like how our predecessors stood together to challenge an unjust system and exhibit new forms of art, we want to provide alternative platforms and spaces for today. 

It’s hard to predict how collectives will evolve – there are so many of them, in many different forms – but I’m confident that they will always exist, constantly redefining themselves to fit new systems, technologies and modes of expression. Some of them might be less radical than before, but one thing seems sure right now: we are finding new ways to create something special, together.