Eight young artists are gathered in the narrow space of the Ministry of Casual Living: an art gallery, community space and home on Haultain Street. They're arranged in a make-shift circle, perching on benches, settling into worn folding chairs. The heat stopped working and there was a flood last night, but the place has history and there's a sense of nostalgia in the room, as they prepare to move out.

Founding minister David Gifford, now a sessional instructor at the University of Victoria, recalls getting married in the space ("everyone was invited") while current minister Aubrey Burke says last night's movie night, which lasted until 7 a.m., nearly killed him. It was one of many daily events this month — the ministry's way of going out with a bang.

They're fresh from a board meeting to discuss their future. Eviction from their Haultain home, which happens Dec. 1 as the property is rezoned as residential, has meant a dramatic restructuring for the group dedicated to emerging arts. But far from a death sentence, they see it as an opportunity.

"It's not like we're packing it in," says minister Aubrey Burke. "We're evolving and changing and growing."

For now, it means they'll be occupying three donated downtown window spaces, instead of the centralized gallery setting in Fernwood. It's a temporary solution — in the longer term they hope to purchase a permanent space.

While the grassroots, freewheeling, anything-goes attitude still seems to be there, the Ministry of Casual Living certainly seems to be growing and growing up. On one hand, they laugh when asked how many board members they have.

"Everything here is very organic," says Byron Thompson, who is filming the session as part of a documentary about the group that he plans on submitting to film festivals in the spring — one of several strategies to generate income for the group. Pretty much anyone who wants to come to a board meeting is welcome.

On the other, they say they've been discussing the benefits of inviting an accountant or lawyer to the board. They're also using terms like "five-year plan" and they have a $9,500 nest-egg saved, thanks to an endowment from the arts sustainability fund.

Gifford says that 10 years ago, they probably wouldn't have had the discipline to hold on to that kind of cash.

"It probably would have gone to beer and pizza," he says after some thought.

He and Stephen Nguyen opened the space an an anti-gallery gallery — one where anyone could stop by and hang out without a curator breathing down their neck.

"We were homeless and angry at the man," he said. "We were art students and ... just wanted to show art galleries how we think it should be done."

It meant living in the space and welcoming nearly everyone who wanted a show to have one. In ministry fashion, they haven't kept exact records but they estimate that they've hosted more than 450 shows in their 10 years, with a near weekly rotation

.

There have only been two shows that Gifford can remember rejecting — one involved naked photos of the artist with a paper bag on his head ("there are children walking by") and the other was a project of driftwood art. Gifford says it's his only regret — he must have considered himself "too cool" at the time.

He never imagined the ministry would still be going strong, 10 years later.

"Artist-run centres are made to kind of almost rise and then disappear when a new one springs up," he said. "This one seems to have its own energy that keeps it going."

It has largely depended on the individuals who step up to the role of minister, which not only means an opportunity to curate and promote the space but also pay the rent and live there.

Current minister Burke, who will be the last one to live in the space, recently calculated that, collectively, the ministers have contributed at least $85,000 out-of-pocket to the cause — no small feat considering they are typically students with multiple jobs (Burke has four).

He says there's a sense of family in both the grassroots model and the lineage of minister-to-minister responsibility.

"We've all kind of shared in its trials," he said. "It's pretty tough to live here in a sense; you're paying the rent, you're freezing during the winter, you don't have a shower so you're always a little bit dirty. But I think it's definitely this shared experience that has kept us together and kept us strong and running."

Each minister has injected his or her own flavour into the project and Burke's perpetually sunny attitude and contagious laughter is clearly not his only contribution. His business savvy is undoubtedly an asset, even if he receives some flack from artists for pursuing the minor.

He says one of his main interests is figuring out a way to keep the group sustainable, while maintaining its creative mandate.

"It's really important to hold down that zone where collective artists and experimental stuff can happen," he said. "And have a model that's sustainable too."

The feeling is definitely optimistic in the room. They're excited about the windows, which will give more emerging artists an opportunity to try out curation: each window will be governed by a new curator on a three to four month term.

"Not only is it an experimental space for establishing artists to show their work, it's actually going to be a turnover for curators," Burke says.

The first window, donated by White Bird Lounge, will be located at 678 Yates St. The second, donated by Decade is at 1407 Government St. And the third, which will be dedicated to video installations is at 625 Johnson St., donated by Games Workshop.

The main question now is how to remain maneoeverable but also grow.

Burke has big dreams for the ministry and is talking about pop-up ministries from Singapore to Mexico — he recently wrote a paper for university about what that model would look like.

In the nearer future, they've been chatting with other artist-run groups in town, including the Wayward School, about developing a new model based on collectivisation. And although money has always been tight, their model is what has made them so adaptable.

"We're more elastic than other places because we don't have that kind of funding structure."

Ultimately, they're confident that this isn't the end.

"It's more than just a little gallery," Burke says. "We're rolling and anyone that wants to get on the train and roll with us is welcome."

asmart@timescolonist.com

This story has been updated with corrected information