Proof of Genius #09 — Impact Producer

At a Glance

Who: Chris Vijn
What: impact producer, program creator, and initiator
Works on: social issues such as discrimination, democracy, inequality, migration, technology, extremism, and polarization
Formats: film, photography, exhibitions, festivals, performances, youth projects, and public programs
Background: including twelve years with VPRO Tegenlicht as a researcher, director, and impact producer
Initiatives: including Ook Mijn Plek, YUSU Talents, and the Nachtgenootschap
Approach: bringing people together, organizing spaces, and ensuring that ideas are
actually put into practice Genius: According to Chris, impact arises when people become co-owners of what is being created

 

Chris Vijn calls herself an impact producer. It’s the kind of job title where you don’t immediately know what lies behind it. After talking with her, it becomes much clearer.

She works on topics that are inherently fraught with tension: discrimination, housing shortages, democracy, technology, migration, extremism, and polarization. There are already plenty of viewpoints, reports, and debates on all these topics. Chris is primarily interested in what happens when you actually involve people in something.

Sometimes that leads to a film or exhibition; other times, to a festival, performance, or youth project. Occasionally, something emerges that’s hard to categorize under a single label. She doesn’t decide on the format until it becomes clear who needs to come together around a topic and what’s required to spark change.

She developed this approach, among other places, at VPRO Tegenlicht, where she worked for twelve years as a researcher, director, and impact producer. There, she learned to view major developments from different angles and to become skeptical whenever a single explanation seems to account for everything too easily.

During our conversation, she describes Tegenlicht as a welcome respite from the chaos of the media landscape. She actually works in a similar way herself. She first observes, listens, seeks out people who wouldn’t naturally cross paths, and builds from there.

In her case, “producing” is therefore a strangely small word for what she does. A good idea is, at best, just a starting point. There needs to be a location, funding, an audience, people willing to participate, and someone who ensures the whole thing doesn’t remain merely on paper.

 

Art crops up remarkably often in this process. Not because art is meant to solve social problems. But it can create a situation in which something shifts. People see things differently, step outside their usual roles, or realize that a familiar argument suddenly sounds less self-evident.

At one point in our conversation, Chris says that she’s actually too big to do everything on her own and too small for a company with staff on the payroll. She laughs as she says it, but it’s a pretty accurate description. She runs a foundation, takes on commercial assignments, develops programs and cultural projects, and is constantly working to bring people, money, venues, and organizations together. Networking interests her only if it leads to concrete action.

Halfway through our conversation, her phone rings. A 15-year-old participant in a project has questions about transportation and payment. Chris answers the call. The interview can wait.

So this is what social impact sometimes looks like. Not as a big word in a policy document, but as making sure a fifteen-year-old boy knows where he needs to be, how to get there, and whether his expenses are covered.

That practical approach is also at the heart of Ook Mijn Plek. There, young people and young creators work with film, photography, music, visual arts, and design to address discrimination and inequality. There’s no pre-determined message for them to illustrate. They explore what they encounter on their own and turn it into their work.

At YUSU Talents, young people from North Holland North are given the space to further their creative ambitions. Some do so through music, others through video, design, or storytelling. If you say that young people deserve space, you must then ensure that that space actually exists.

The Nachtgenootschap also stems from this mindset. There, the night is treated as a serious part of a city’s cultural and social life. Creators, organizers, visitors, and other stakeholders all have a say in what happens after sunset and what’s needed. That inevitably makes the discussions more chaotic than when policy is devised at a conference table during the day. And that’s a good thing.

YUSU’s motto is “Dream. Dare. Do.” Chris seems to have a particular talent for that last word. Ideas are rarely the problem; execution is.

During our conversation, the word “grassroots” comes up. She reacts to it immediately. Many of her projects start with people who run into obstacles, feel something is missing, or want to bring about change themselves. Then you have to prevent a professional system from being built around it, in which those same people gradually lose sight of their own project.

She talks about a new co-production with young people. They find themselves in a fictional world where the existing order has vanished. No laws, no old structures, no inherent authority. They’re given walkie-talkies, where only one person can speak at a time.

The world has ended. Rebuild it.

Then issues like power, rules, decision-making, and conflicting interests naturally come to the surface. You don’t need to explain much about democracy when a group has to figure out for itself how to make decisions together and what happens when not everyone wants the same thing.

Chris is better at letting people experience something like this than telling them how it works beforehand. You can see that reflected in the way she leads. She doesn’t need to be at the forefront all the time. She makes calls, organizes, persuades, seeks funding, connects people, and clears away practical obstacles along the way. At some point, the project has to be able to function without her.

That’s why Lao Tzu comes up during our conversation:

“When the work of the best leader is done, the people say, ‘We did it ourselves.’”

With Chris, a statement like that doesn’t feel like a management philosophy hung above a desk. It’s closely tied to her daily practice. Ultimately, people must take ownership of what has been created.

That becomes more difficult as soon as a topic is sensitive. Chris warns that in such cases, you quickly end up inviting mainly people who think more or less the same way. If you only assemble a “safe” group when discussing discrimination, extremism, or democracy, you’ll likely end up with a “safe” conversation as well.

By this, she doesn’t mean that every opinion has equal value or that every boundary should disappear. Rather, she means that living together becomes difficult when we only want to speak with people who already belong to our own circle. She handles friction quite well. Chris is direct, knows where she stands, and has little patience for vagueness, but she does want to understand why someone might come to a different conclusion.

After talking for a while, “impact producer” no longer sounds like some made-up job title at all.

She produces films, festivals, exhibitions, and projects, but a large part of her work takes place in the spaces in between: where a young person enters an institution, an artist engages with a social issue, people who don’t normally speak to one another cross paths, and an idea must take the difficult step from plan to reality.

If all goes well, Chris ultimately doesn’t need to stay in the middle of it all. Then the others can move forward.

Chris Vijn: https://whoowhoo.nl/

Photos: © Keith Montgomery