In My ROOM WITH USEN
Usen Esiet is a curator and cultural organiser shaping the independent arts landscape in New York as the force behind Hausen, a self-run gallery and living exhibition space. His practice sits at the intersection of art, design, and site-specific installation, curating experiences that feel both intimate and expansive.
Through Hausen, Usen has cultivated a distinct curatorial voice connecting artists and audiences while refining a language rooted in experimentation and community. The gallery operates as an evolving canvas for dialogue, exchange, and discovery.
What makes his work compelling is the way he transforms his home into a cultural hub. Hausen hosts a dynamic programme of exhibitions, installations, and residencies, positioning domestic space as both a sanctuary and public platform. By dissolving the boundaries between private life and artistic practice, Usen challenges conventional notions of cultural institutions and demonstrates the power of independent spaces to foster intimacy, innovation, and belonging.
His story centres on the radical adaptability of space and how home can become a site of production and connection. It reflects a belief in flexible infrastructures, independent curation, and the idea that culture flourishes when rooted in lived experience.
Design is embedded in his sensibility. From staging exhibitions to shaping the textures of everyday life, it functions not just as an aesthetic layer but as a guiding principle for how people encounter art and one another.
ReFramed: Let’s start from the beginning, what’s your name, where are you from and what do you do?
Usen: I’m Usen Esiet, a creative producer, curator, and writer. I was born and raised in Nigeria, and Brooklyn has been home for the last twelve, going on thirteen years.
ReFramed: What’s your earliest memory of your first room?
Usen: My first room is still my room, in a way. I shared a bunk bed with my older brother, I remember all the laughs, shenanigans, pretending to be asleep when our parents checked in. It was filled with light and love. It felt like a safe space for the two of us.
ReFramed: Paint us a picture. What did that room look out onto?
Usen: The room was small but bright. The window faced an open plot of land that changed daily motorbikes, cars, livestock. Sometimes fights or parties, classic Nigeria. It was a window into my little world and a window out to everything beyond.
ReFramed: What did the bed feel like? And who got the top bunk?
Usen: Extremely firm classic hard-foam Nigerian mattress. We’d jump on it all the time. Top vs. bottom bunk caused many debates; we switched depending on mood. Eventually we graduated to separate beds, and the room kept evolving like my spaces do now.
ReFramed: Beyond sleep, what does a bedroom represent to you?
Usen: Solitude and solace. I’m on the road a lot, and my bedroom is where worlds begin reading late, thinking early, building ideas. It’s my private launchpad.
ReFramed: You talk about adaptability in your spaces. What does that mean in practice?
Usen: I identify with shapeshifting moving beyond limits, physically and metaphysically. My space changes with my mood and season of life. I collect art; how it sits with books, vinyl, and objects shifts the room’s energy. I host often, so I design for fresh experiences each visit should feel new.
ReFramed: How has this current space changed since you moved in?
Usen: Radically. I moved in when it wasn’t truly livable. I showered at friends’ places nearby. It started as a white-box canvas. Since then the walls have cycled from white to red, half-blue/half-red, all blue, and back to white. The ceiling went from white to a soft off-white/yellow after our last show. A chandelier appeared. Plants ebb and flow (my landlord even helps keep them alive when I travel). It’s always evolving and will again soon.
ReFramed: And how has the space changed you?
Usen: It showed me I’m a caretaker of rooms and of people. Hosting joy, excitement, and community here made me realize I’m a custodian of a space that makes room for others to feel good.
ReFramed: How has your relationship to home evolved?
Usen: Naturally and deeply. The longer I’m here, the more connected I feel to the room, the neighborhood, the community. I inherited a space with its own legacies; I want it to outlast me. That responsibility to shape and share it means a lot.
ReFramed: One object that holds a memory beyond its function?
Usen: A photograph by Howard T. Cash. I met him eight years ago near Union Square; we fell into conversation and discovered he’d spent seven years in Nigeria photographing icons like Fela Kuti and traveling the country. That serendipity is why I love New York: you step outside and meet someone who carries a piece of your story. I recently reconnected with him - also by chance - through another street vendor. The print is from his series Angels on the Beach, showing women honoring their ancestors. It reminds me how connected we all are, across distances. I’ve even spotted the same image at Red Rooster, seeing it elsewhere makes me feel linked to everyone who lives with it.
ReFramed: What do you notice when the room is quiet?
Usen: Birds in the tree outside at sunrise and sunset. For a moment I forget where I am and just sit inside that sound. It’s peaceful.
ReFramed: How do you use your bed when you’re not sleeping?
Usen: Rest and contemplation. It’s where I count blessings, laugh, cry, call in gratitude, and work through ideas. Comfort first always.
ReFramed: When you’re away, what do you miss most about this room?
Usen: Ease. The solitude here. When I’m away, even if I’m still, it isn’t the same stillness. I long to reenter this room’s ease and rest.
ReFramed: What do you hope people feel when they walk in?
Usen: Welcomed above everything.
ReFramed: How does the space resemble you?Usen: It mirrors me in real time. Whatever I’m engaging in books, a strange new vinyl find, shoes tells you where I am in my life. It’s a living self-portrait.
ReFramed: If this room had a season or time of day?
Usen: Fall—maybe edging into winter. Watching through the three windows as leaves drop or snow falls. Time moving while I sit still. Calming.
ReFramed: What emotions does the room carry?
Usen: It transforms with the moment and the people loud laughter, quiet reflection, encouraging conversations. The emotion is communal and situational.
ReFramed: What’s the first thing you see from bed when you wake?
Usen: A charcoal/ink/pencil drawing by a South African artist named Lido. It reflects how the world sees me and my own fragility. It’s a soft reminder of mortality and a prompt to chase the day.
ReFramed: If you left tomorrow, what would you want untouched?
Usen: Everything. There’s affirmation in returning to a space exactly as you left it. I always say: the only thing I love more than leaving New York is coming back to a room tuned to my sensibilities and comfort.
ReFramed: If your bed could describe you in two words?
Usen: “Needs rest.” (Runner-up: “Wise guy.”)
ReFramed: Describe your room in two or three words.
Usen: Longing & belonging.
