By Rachel Cabitt

April 13, 2020

The Changing Work of Freelancing, in Photos

Technology has driven many industries to change the standard definition of work, and while “freelance” as a term has been used since the 19th century​, the ability to work “freelance” today is changing, and more available than ever, thanks to collaborative, accessible technology.

John Provencher, a graphic designer and developer remarks that ​“websites are the design of our time.”​ Provencher views websites as not just a URL that lives online, but a generative system that can live independently and compound upon itself. ​His work involves simplicity and variables, not all websites surround themselves around code, some only need images or typography to be interesting.

In college, the web wasn’t John’s main focus, in fact, he wasn’t very good at coding either. Javascript took a long time for him to learn, as it does for anyone. Fast-forward: he now teaches students how to build websites part-time at The New School. He first started two years ago just as he was leaving his full-time job ​at a branding agency​. Teaching felt like the perfect, stable gig to bridge the transition to freelance. He also saw it as a way to workshop his own ideas. In essence, it was a way for him to be a student again.

“You can be really risky in college and in my professional career I just always wanted to take huge risks.”

At the beginning of this year, John alongside friend and co-teacher Laurel Schwulst hosted their first workshop for their independent learning initiative, Fruitful School. Hosted for six weeks at Pioneer Works, they worked with eleven students of all different ages and backgrounds. The students at Fruitful applied with “seeds”, ideas for what they wanted to achieve in the workshop. The applicants weren’t judged on quality but instead on if John and Laurel, as teachers, had the references and resources to support their ideas.

When asked if teaching had become a crux of his practice, he readily agreed. It’s almost a breath of fresh air, being around a group of people who are curious and truthful in their willingness to learn, as opposed to getting stuck in the finite details of the industry. And the industry can be finite.

Ritu Ghiya describes it as “an intense vacuum of a certain kind of person... Privilege is a word that’s tossed around a lot, criticality [isn’t] welcomed there as much.”

An artist and designer, Ritu blurs the lines between artmaking and technology. Her interest lies in transforming physical objects into special, digital experiences.

Studying media theory in school, the path to web and technology was unexpected.

“What I’m doing still feels super new to me, and every project I’m taking on now still feels like I’m taking it on to learn something new... I feel like my whole career has been informed by chasing what I’m interested in.”

After graduating, Ritu worked in artbook publishing. But while she was surrounded by art, her role wasn’t creative. She left her full-time job on a “whim” to teach herself how to code. She spent her time introducing herself to others who weren’t inside the corporate world, leading her to the DIY tech community full “of people who don’t want to be complicit with what big tech is doing.”

Through researching, she was introduced to the School for Poetic Computation, a Black Mountain-esque school focused around care, technology, and theoretical learning. She began doing one-off design gigs for them and was then introduced to The New York Tech Zine Fair, a new project of the owners. Ritu soon jumped on as program manager.

The fair has provided Ritu with a backbone for her practice, while she “navigates the minutiae of having to be a worker in technology and art.” It brings together a community of artists that are “interrogating power, hegemony, and technology and producing independent publishing. I kind of call it a celebration of publishing about technology outside of technology.”

“There are just a lot of people who are tired,” Ritu admits. And for her and many others, this community is a way to ease the frustration of big corporatism.

“For me personally, things have started making sense with my career as a designer and developer within the last few months. I think the recipe in all these things has brought me the work I do... If I reflect, I think I have created these paths for myself because I didn’t see one that made sense to me.”

Jo Shaffer, a visual effects artist, and bassist, also created their own course. Unlike John and Ritu, Jo’s practice lies in the software that technology has created over time. Visual effects programs like Houdini and Maya were only introduced to the market in the late 90s. On Jo’s end, it has taken years of trial and error to climb multiple, steep learning curves.

“At first you’re just struggling with technology and it’s hard to, even if you can execute something, really imbue it with your voice or have a take on it.”

Jo cites ​*Everything is Cinem*a​ by Richard Brody. "The New Wave people were really interested in the idea of a filmmaker, that as tech improved, being able to lock themselves in a room and make a film in the same way an author just needs to go into a room and make their art.”

Now after taking the time, Jo has noticed themselves paying closer attention to detail, light in particular. How does it scatter? How does it diffuse?

“Stone buildings at sunset, that’s my perfect light.”

Jo found themself in a freelance position by way of music. They currently play bass in an indie rock band, The Ophelias. In order to financially support life on the road, when they’re in New York, Jo is devoted to VFX, making sure all projects are finished before touring for consecutive weeks. But it’s not something they mind, comparing it to getting lost in a video game.

In terms of the overlap between their two mediums, music and tech, Jo finds the intersection in their practice. “It sounds dumb to say out loud cause it’s so intrinsic to how you go about making... I just haven’t found that learning how to procedurally model a flower is that much different from learning how to play a bass part. You just study something, practice it.”

*Words and photography by Rachel Cabbitt*.