Reminiscing on six years at their headquarters in Long Island City, Queens, Flux Factory veterans Stefany Ann Goldberg and Jason David Brown say one of the most memorable exhibitions they mounted there was 2003’s “Miracle on 43rd Street,” an interactive installation that included a bus ride through the neighborhood, a special map and scavenger-hunt-like walking tour, and small public art projects meant to be discovered by the participants. It was elaborate, labor-intensive, and time-consuming, yet lasted just one day and attracted less than a handful of visitors.

“We put in an amazing amount of work, but it was cold and rainy that day, so almost no one came,” says Goldberg, the art collective’s executive director. “There’s a way in which that project is ultimate Flux Factory, a lot of hard work to do something absolutely ephemeral.”

Flux Factory is true to its name, with a nebulous group of artists — including 18 who pay what Goldberg calls a “very affordable” rent to live in the labyrinthine converted warehouse and countless others from all over the world who have participated in various exhibitions, salons, and other events — and a mission that supports constantly evolving projects in endless mediums. Right now the group is undergoing perhaps its biggest transformation, with the loss of its 7,500-square-foot space at 38-38 43rd Street. The Metropolitan Transit Authority recently acquired the building, which stands in the path of the $6.3 million East Side Access Project that will connect the Long Island Railroad with Grand Central Station. Goldberg says Flux Factory will most likely be forced to vacate by the end of the summer, although the MTA has yet to give the group a definitive deadline. The collective’s last exhibition in the space, “Everything Must Go,” kicks off April 4 and runs through April 27.

“It’s a Flux-on-Flux show,” Goldberg says. The exhibition comprises a quirky, ramshackle, collaborative installation that’s more trademark-Flux-Factory-funny than wistful. It sprawls throughout the entire building—even into the bathrooms, bedrooms, and laundry room—includes an ongoing rummage sale and performances, and will close with a dance party. “It’s a farewell to the space and also a show that imagines the future of Flux Factory.”

This is not the first time Flux Factory, which is supported by grants and donations, has had to regroup. Founded in 1994, the collective operated out of a former spice factory in Williamsburg until it was priced out of the neighborhood in the early 2000s. But both Goldberg and Brown, who were there for that move, say this time is different. The artists had signed a 10-year lease with a five-year renewal option on the Queens space, which includes not just studios, but offices, a computer center, a darkroom, a performance space, a musical recording studio, and other amenities.

“We essentially saw this place as permanent,” Brown said. “You watched Williamsburg change and you could sort of see it coming, but here, it was like a freak of nature. It’s a bit odd because we’re not being pushed out by the typical forces.”

“We’re not necessarily bitter about the development of mass transportation in New York City; we’re for that,” Goldberg adds. “But it’s frustrating.”  

Flux Factory’s next move, Brown says, “is the question on everyone’s lips.” After the group leaves 43rd Street it will continue to operate as a nonprofit arts organization, but the collective doesn’t expect to sign a lease on a new home anytime soon, given that their current location took two years to find. In the meantime, organizers say they’ll focus on building the Factory’s presence on the Web and putting together a roster of site-specific projects that will take place everywhere from in friends’ living rooms to on buses.

“We’re looking at this as a way to cultivate partnerships with other institutions both new and old,” Goldberg says. “It’s a way to grow, do new things, and transform again. It’s definitely going to be difficult, but we’ll do it. The more compelling part of the story is that we’ll survive.”