Having a disability, it’s not easy to make friends. But I have made friends in my work… and hopefully they’ll be lifelong friends.”

Lilly Marino

At a glance

WHAT: “Visions from Newport” art exhibit

WHO: Featuring multiple pieces from more than a dozen artists and studios that support adults with disabilities

WHERE: The Atrium Gallery, in the center building of the William Powers Administration Building, 1 Capitol Hill, Providence, R.I.

WHEN: Now through March 18

Visions from Newport is not simply an exhibition placed in a government space. It is a statement about who gets to be seen.

For Lilly Marino, being part of the show is both personal and historic.

“It means a lot,” she said. “This is my first exhibit.”

Now 39, Lilly has been creating art for more than 15 years. After sustaining a traumatic brain injury at 14, her family worked to ensure she remained active — physically, emotionally and creatively. Before the accident, her father, Mike Marino, describes her as athletic, social and a natural leader — qualities he says never left.

“She’s still very social, very bright and very determined in anything she pursues,” he said.

Today, Lilly works three days a week at Downtown Designs, a storefront studio on Broadway in Newport, and also creates at Sunlight Studio on the St. Mary’s campus in Portsmouth. Both are part of Looking Upwards, a nonprofit that provides accessible arts programming for adults with developmental disabilities.

Her work in the exhibition includes weaving and painting — and she stands out in a distinctive way.

“Nobody else had weavings there,” she said proudly.

Weaving has become one of her signature mediums. At the studio, she creates textured wall hangings that are sometimes transformed into pillows, handbags and circular “bloom brooches” — layered fiber pieces backed with flannel and pinned like flowers. The pieces are intricate, full of color and intention.

Her creativity extends beyond fiber art. Lilly also makes jewelry — lanyards, necklaces, bracelets, anklets and earrings — neatly organized on shelves her father built for her workspace at home. She has sold her work at the famed Brimfield Antique Flea Market in Massachusetts, setting up her own table for four days at a time alongside her father.

“She’s making a lot of friends,” Mike said.

That sense of connection is central to what the exhibit represents for her.

“It means being included,” Lilly said. “Having a disability, it’s not easy to make friends. But I have made friends in my work… and hopefully they’ll be lifelong friends.”

She believes the exhibition challenges assumptions about who gets to be seen as an artist.

For her, the message is straightforward.

“It helps people see that people with disabilities can have talent,” she said. “We are just like everybody else.”

When asked what she hopes the community remembers after walking through the gallery, Lilly didn’t hesitate.

“That we can all have an art space,” she said.

More than an art show

That conviction echoes the broader vision behind Visions from Newport — one curator Seamus Hames has spent much of his career advancing.

For Hames, the exhibition is more than a gallery show. It is a reflection of what he has worked toward for decades.

As Education Program Director and Accessibility Coordinator for the Rhode Island State Council on the Arts, Hames supports programs across the state that place accessibility at the center of their mission. But his connection to the work began long before his current role.

From 2005 to 2015, he directed a studio for artists with developmental disabilities — an experience he describes as transformative.

“I’ll always look back at that experience as one of the most cherished times of my life because I learned so much about people,” he said.

The lesson that stayed with him — and one he believes visitors can discover simply by spending time in the gallery — is simple yet important.

“People have more or less the same wants and needs underneath,” Hames said. “But layered on top of that are our unique personalities, which together display an infinite variety.”

That individuality is on full display throughout the exhibition. Many of the works draw from deeply personal interests — favorite animals, television shows, hobbies and daily rituals — transforming ordinary experiences into vivid visual language.

“As an artist, that’s the goal,” Hames said. “To develop a unique style so that your personality shines through and everyone knows that artwork could only belong to you.”

One piece that captures that idea comes from artist Bob Stengel, who incorporates maps into his paintings. An avid collector, Stengel began using folded paper maps as foundations for layered circular designs. From a distance, the works appear as mesmerizing abstract compositions. Up close, worn creases and frayed edges reveal another narrative — one tied to travel, memory and lived experience.

“They remind us of a time before GPS, when maps gave us a sense of security and control over our surroundings,” Hames said. “They can hold memories — like sitting in the passenger seat on a road trip, navigating for a parent.”

Moments like that, he said, create an entry point between viewer and artist.

“That’s what great art does. It reminds us of our collective humanity and strengthens empathy.”

That philosophy shaped how he curated the exhibition.

Rather than selecting a single representative piece from each artist, Hames structured the show to demonstrate depth. With three walls in the atrium gallery, the exhibition features five to six artists from each of three participating studios, with multiple works displayed per artist.

“Many of the artists working in these programs are incredibly prolific,” he said. “Showing only one piece doesn’t always capture the scale of what they’re doing.”

The decision highlights something Hames has long observed: the work created in these studios is not incidental, nor is it therapeutic output placed casually on display. It is the result of sustained practice and artistic voice.

Bringing life to dull spaces

Installed inside a state administration building — a space typically associated with taxation offices and government departments — the exhibition brings a distinctly human presence into a bureaucratic setting.

The response has been overwhelmingly positive. Employees and visitors passing through the building encounter artwork that is vibrant, layered and unmistakably individual. In that context, the artists are not viewed as participants in a program, but as professionals.

That distinction is intentional. The exhibition follows a competitive curatorial process, features professional installation and includes formal citations from the governor recognizing the artists’ achievements — underscoring that this is serious work worthy of institutional recognition.

Hames hopes the show also prompts something practical — that viewers learn these studios exist in their own communities, that they are open, accessible and often seeking volunteers. In many ways, he sees programs like these at the forefront of a growing national “arts and health” movement — one that recognizes the arts not as enrichment alone, but as essential to dignity, identity and well-being.

Inside the atrium gallery, those ideas are not theoretical.

They hang on the walls.

Lilly’s weavings rest alongside painted maps, layered canvases and mixed-media works from artists across Rhode Island. Together, they form something larger than an exhibit.

They form a statement.

Talent does not require permission to be seen.

It requires opportunity, recognition and space.

And, as Lilly put it, “If there’s a will, there’s a way.”