A heartfelt profile of Trenton’s community arts engine and the IT guy who somehow ended up running it.
If you ask Craig Shofed how he became Executive Director of Artworks, he’ll tell you it started in 2006, when he moved to Trenton and wandered into a building full of paint, possibility, and people who didn’t mind that he still thought “troubleshooting” meant fixing printers. By 2009, life threw him a curveball, renal failure, and after a kidney transplant and a recovery powered by neighbors who literally drove him to the hospital and made sure he was fed, Craig decided to become a full‑time artist.
That’s right: the man who spent 25 years in IT, a career he fell into after a summer job installing computers, woke up one day and said, “Let’s try photography.” And Trenton, being Trenton, said, “Sure, why not?”
Craig’s art career took off. His work has been exhibited in Philadelphia, New York, San Diego, London, and across the U.S. and Europe . He curated the long-running Common Threads exhibition at Hopewell Valley Vineyards, showcasing artists tied to Trenton’s creative scene . He even had pieces selected for major regional exhibitions like the Mercer County Photography Exhibition and shows at Hanover Creative and the William Trent House amphorartworks.com Exhibitions Shofed Art.
But the real twist? Craig didn’t just become an artist, he became the guy running the place that gave him his start.
Artworks is, in Craig’s words, “a Community Arts Organization.” Not a museum. Not a gallery. Not a nonprofit pretending to be a business. It’s a third space, a creative refuge where Trenton’s artists can gather, learn, experiment, and occasionally argue about whether gesso is a scam.
Artworks has a staff of five. Five people.
Yet it produces citywide events, exhibitions, classes, youth programs, and the beloved Art All Day, a 15‑year‑old tradition that began under former Executive Director Lauren Otis and has become one of Trenton’s signature cultural experiences. Craig refuses to take credit for it, but he’ll happily tell you how much it meant to him as a young artist finding his footing.
The organization’s impact is wildly disproportionate to its size. Craig calls the staff’s workload “herculean,” and he’s not exaggerating. Artworks is powered by volunteers, community partnerships, and a relationship with the City of Trenton that Craig is genuinely proud of the kind where calls for help never go unanswered, and collaboration is the norm rather than the exception.
Craig’s affection for Trenton is not theoretical. It’s lived.
When he was recovering from his transplant, neighbors drove him and his wife to appointments. Artists supported his growth. No one competed; everyone collaborated.
He describes the early Trenton art scene as “raw, vibrant, and easy to access,” full of creatives who were just as likely to have work in MoMA as they were to be your next‑door neighbor . That sense of mutual uplift shaped him and now shapes how he leads Artworks.
Craig is candid about the biggest shift in the arts community: the loss of third spaces. Coffee shops, studios, hangouts, the places where artists gather without needing a reason.
But he’s hopeful. Hanover Creative, Tren-Town Market, 120 East, Rojas, Casa Cultura are all signs of a new wave of creative infrastructure. Artworks plans to be part of that solution, too.
Craig’s answer to nurturing new talent is refreshingly blunt: “Stability and money.” You can’t support artists if you can’t keep the lights on. You can’t keep the lights on without staff. And you can’t keep staff without funding.
But beneath the practicality is something softer: Artists need to know that Artworks is there for them. Always.
Craig doesn’t want Artworks to become something new. He wants it to stay what it is: accessible, welcoming, and committed to helping people realize their artistic visions.
He wants people to feel safe when they walk through the doors. He wants the team, the people who keep him sane, motivated, and occasionally surprised to continue doing the impossible every day. He wants Artworks to remain the place where someone like him could walk in, find a community, and eventually find a calling.
He didn’t expect to be here. But he knows, deeply, that this is exactly where he’s supposed to be.