Meghna Jaradi
A lineup of shiny lowriders parked just north of Pioneer Square—silver, purple, forest green—is the first sign I’ve arrived at Studio 7117’s Khmer New Year Celebration. The artists: members of White Center-based Eazy Duz It Car Club.
A copy of Aaliyah Uy’s oil painting “tendril, leaf, fruit, & flowers” hangs inside: adorned mudra hands in front of a barred, graffiti stickered window in Long Beach. A friend says an opening prayer before performances begin. Officers from Seattle University’s first-ever Khmer Student Association dance in celestial apsara dress. Discreetly mounted ceiling cameras are documenting the congregation of diasporic third culture. “It’s our first livestream,” said Devyn Pedrano-Snow, pulling back a curtain to reveal a screen showing multiple camera angles. He and cofounder Dany Srey-Snow are the husband-and-wife duo behind Studio 7117, this interdisciplinary creative studio and “urban ashram.”
Studio 7117’s physical headquarters is known for its grounded, shoes-off presence within the Pioneer Square Art Walk, the longest-running art walk in the country. Studio 7117 opened its doors a year and a half ago, but Devyn and Dany have been building since 2017. 7117 is a fortunate number representing their wedding anniversary and complementary yin-yang energies. What began as a creative umbrella while the couple lived on an Air Force base in North Dakota now includes an ecosystem of artists and collaborators who call this third space home.
New year celebrations ended up being the perfect time to announce shared good news: Studio 7117 Collective will be fiscally sponsored by Northwest Film Forum for the next three years. It’s a big step towards the eventual goal of becoming a nonprofit and mobilizing more resources for community storytellers.
As working artists, Devyn and Dany model self care practice, cultural pride and shared abundance for fellow creatives. While the official news came through in December, they took an additional two to three months to sign the papers and formalize their vision for the studio’s future.
“We don’t take [this work] lightly… There has to be a capacity to truly hold others and their art. To do that we have to have our own experience of being tapped into something bigger,” Dany said. “[We hold art] not just on the surface level, but in the process… it’s a full body thing.”
What is an urban ashram?
There is a different level of commitment that comes with holding creative space as a “creator” of three tiny humans. “Our kiddos are directors of the studio,” Dany laughed. “Our first role is husband and wife, then parents, then studio creatives and artists. Everything we do is keeping our children in mind…these beings we brought into the world.”
Dany went on to speak on the importance of parents continuing their creative practices. “It allows us to release, to be present and embodied.. but [the kids are] usually part of our process..their energy gets infused in how we operate.” Case in point: although Studio 7117 set up a kids room upstairs, the livestream showed two littles happily (and safely!) playing in the back of the green, blinged-out Chevy. It’s important to remember that kids who are woven into the fabric of a global art world will eventually become our future leaders.
The interplay between parenthood, creativity and wellness enables deep community work and cultural perpetuity. Dany is a Reiki master and ancestral healer who calls upon her Khmer ancestors, and Devyn is a breathwork and meditation facilitator with Filipino roots. They were both practicing yoga teachers when they first toured the studio space. Programs like men’s circles and women’s circles flow with seasons of life: “When we have the space to do it and when it’s needed for us, we start to call it in more. We’re creatives first,” said Devyn, who turned to meditation after he exited the military.
An incense-laden, non-denominational altar paired with an intention-setting invitation is just one of the nods to sacredness offered to all who enter. Urban and street influences show up in Dany’s graphic design and in Devyn’s audiovisual sensibility–throwbacks to formative intercultural experiences in White Center, Renton, Las Vegas and Long Beach.
In this first year of service, Studio 7117 prioritized hosting events and exhibitions centering community creatives. “We’d rather have the space and our being speak for itself,” said Dany. It has, made clear by the generous flow of positive feedback and cash donations received after a jarring burglary in February 2026.
What is fiscal sponsorship?
“It was Dany who first picked up film!” Devyn explained: she made fashion vlogs during their North Dakota stint. While applying for grants, Dany was also the first to identify fiscal sponsorship as the way forward for Studio 7117 Collective. He credits ongoing community support for their decision to apply for Northwest Film Forum’s program: given his filmmaking background, they’d worked with NWFF’s action programs and have great relationships with the staff and directors.
The NWFF sponsors over 100 film projects and organizations, according to its website. Fiscal sponsorship is a long-standing, well-established funding model that allows a nonprofit to extend its 501c3 status to a mission-aligned project that might lack tax exempt status. After entering into an agreement, the sponsorship recipient can seek grants and solicit tax-deductible donations via the sponsor, for an administrative fee. According to Devyn, Studio 7117’s sponsorship agreement with the NWFF is remarkably fair, charging a 7% fee.
In a moment where histories are being actively erased, the volume of community stories that will be documented is particularly significant. Jumana Mana’s Foragers—a documentary about wild edible plants in Palestine and Israel—will not let me forget how important it is to make art and make it now.
That Studio 7117 was sponsored as a collective of multidisciplinary creatives is exciting because compelling things happen when artists widen their aperture and blur the boundaries between mediums. One such project will premiere before year-end: an untitled experimental film blending contemporary and traditional dance. The central theme explores feminine rage and reclamation of autonomy through neang yeak—a woman monster character from Khmer lore. Dany developed this work while studying with highly-regarded classical dancer Leav Chanlyka on a recent trip back to Cambodia. “The experience of [bodily] erasure happening with wars, with bordering countries…are all different mirrors of a woman’s experience,” Dany said.
Devyn is serving as the director of photography, the producer and editor for this project, intermixing footage from the trip with clips from Dany’s Srey Selepak dance performances. Expect a vibey soundtrack, too. “I really wanted to make film so I could score it,” he laughed. A Seattle Film School alum, his first love was hip hop music.
Devyn’s career eventually led to technical directing roles with Town Hall Seattle, Microsoft Xbox and beyond. “I got contracted to do Blue Origin… for a space launch, which was really cool for my professional career. But it means so much to do that for ourselves now,” he said. Devyn lit up when he talked about hiring and training a team on this in-demand skillset, and when he illustrated the impact of consistent livestreaming. He pointed to how Seattle Arts & Lectures transformed post-pandemic, as an example: “Whether it’s financial or not, the reach [hybrid events have] is so much more.”
Studio 7117 is hitting a nine year mark, and Devyn and Dany are just getting started. Following their curiosity is leading them to the otherworldly. “Devyn and I have been able to broaden our perspectives by leaving home and ultimately coming back to lay roots. We want to share Seattle with the world, we also want to share the world with Seattle,” said Dany.
It’s an ambitious timeline, but by year three of its NWFF fiscal sponsorship, Studio 7117 Collective is well positioned to host creative exchanges with global arts organizations—with eyes on potential partnerships in Japan, Cambodia, and Southeast Asia.
The journey of a creative spirit appears to lead back to personal responsibility. “This work is not a trend, it’s a timeline shift,” Dany said. “What you’re creating is what you’re leaving behind, so what do you stand for?”
