A Dichotomy of Connection:
Place,
the Internet,
and Curating
A Dichotomy of Connection:
Place,
the Internet,
and Curating
A Dichotomy of Connection:
Place,
the Internet,
and Curating
by Kate Mothes
Paintings by Sara Willadsen, and installations by Matthew Bakkom at Match Factory in Hortonville, Wisconsin in the Summer of 2017. Images courtesy of Young Space.
APRIL 12TH, 2018
REGION > WISCONSIN
About four years ago I began Young Space, a website and curatorial platform, when I was living in Edinburgh, Scotland. After I completed my graduate studies in art history there, I moved back to Wisconsin, where I grew up, and I continued the project here. I live in Northeast Wisconsin, which is a sprawling agricultural and suburban borderland between urban sprawl to the south (Milwaukee-Chicago), and the locked-in-time Northwoods that stretch up to Lake Superior. It is predominantly white, Catholic, conservative, and middle class; there are about half a million people here. It is an unlikely place in which to curate and manage a global contemporary art platform.
As a curator who is located outside of any art world hub, I am constantly negotiating whether I have a neutral presence within a global art world, or am an outsider who is not in fact present in it. I haven’t determined whether being “neutral” or an “outsider” are mutually exclusive. Because where is the art world? Can I be in it and outside of it at the same time, simultaneously connected and disconnected? The very platform that this writing appears on is the product of this emerging--if paradoxical--dichotomy of connectedness as art initiatives decentralize.
Install view of "Settling the Ghost", a show curated from submissions via Young Space, at Standard Projects in Hortonville, WI. Summer 2016. Image Courtesy of Young Space.
What I think of as a “dichotomy of connectedness” emerges from my relationship with and reliance on the Internet to find out about contemporary art and artists elsewhere in the world. Historically, I would have relied on traditional publications like newspapers or magazines to find out what was happening, or more commonly what had already happened—a narrow, centralized understanding of the art world. The Internet now provides not only a window, but a legitimate platform for contributing to and working within a globalized world. It is a window through which to look outside of my geographic area in order to connect with artists, gallerists, curators, and other organizers around the world. With this capability, it actually becomes a valid option for artists and organizers to leave urban centers like New York City (or choose not to move there in the first place), and work elsewhere. Despite the pull of a city, a perpetually unsettled contemporary art organizer such as myself can opt to experiment with possibilities – both physical and virtual – in someplace like semi-rural Wisconsin, rather than trying to “make it” in an established art center. I choose to travel to those places rather than uproot entirely. However, it has become clear over time that in looking outward from a decentralized place, toward the major art coasts or beyond, one risks losing of a sense of where one really is.
As I mentioned, I began my project when I was living in Edinburgh. Scotland and Wisconsin share some striking geographic similarities: their two major cities are almost identical in size, and they nest in the south amidst agricultural land. Scotland has the North Sea; Wisconsin has Lake Michigan. Both Wisconsin and Scotland boast beautiful, legendary, rugged, northern landscapes.
In Scotland, like anywhere, art activity is clustered in urban centers, but there are also decentralized examples of contemporary art initiatives, like the Pier Art Centre in remote Orkney, or artist-led spaces like Highland Institute for Contemporary Art in Inverness and Embassy in Edinburgh. Despite support from organizations like Creative Scotland, they are subject to fluctuations in funding and organizational structures, and these organizations occasionally move, change shape, or start and stop, and the temporal nature of their existence became a central point of interest for me.
Outside of the larger cities in Wisconsin, by comparison, the initiatives are independent and remote. There is little state funding available for the arts; Wisconsin is ranked 47th in the country in terms of its per capita arts spending. The most ambitious projects are artist-run, such as Michelle Grabner and Brad Killam’s Great Poor Farm Experiment in Little Wolf, Wisconsin, or the Wormfarm Institute in Reedsburg. What they have in common is an awareness of and connection to the international art world, but a decisive, physical remoteness that challenges what and why an “art space” or a “gallery” should be.
Installation view of "Together With", a two-part exhibition in collaboration with Denver-based artist collective Hyperlink in Madison, Wisconsin in May or 2017. Image courtesy of Young Space.
Wisconsin struggles to retain artists and creative entrepreneurs; I had always been one of those who believed I would leave Wisconsin and never return. In fact, most artists and organizers I know here are originally from somewhere else, or split their time between here and elsewhere. But a shift has occurred, and not just in Wisconsin. Gradually, it has become acceptable – even desirable – to land in lesser-known areas, to acknowledge flyover country as home base, and still produce work that international collectors, gallerists, and curators are paying attention to. Arguably, there is some cachet in that: it takes courage to break away from the status quo. But having done that, I constantly ask myself, What is the value of this decentralized place for me? Cheaper rent, ample space, or a small, tightly-knit community generally come to mind. More importantly, I ask myself, What value am I bringing to this place? I hope that I bring good ideas and support to others in my community. But sometimes I also struggle to find an answer. If I look outward too much, or rely too much on the Internet for news and projects elsewhere, I lose touch with what is happening locally, or how I could contribute right here.
Increasingly, as I work on Young Space from this out-of-the-way base, I’m interested not only the role of place in curating, writing, or art, but in my relationship to it as I pursue these things. When I moved back to Wisconsin, I knew that while I had enjoyed easy access to contemporary art spaces and communities in Edinburgh, Glasgow, or even London, I was going to have to create my own in Wisconsin. This realization manifested as a compulsion to organize, to connect with others, and to collaborate – all things that are imperative to making any community thrive. That is why I plan to bring Young Space projects increasingly offline and further afield; utilization of the Internet as a tool is central, but relying on it should not be.
ABOUT YOUNG SPACE
Young Space came into being in Edinburgh, UK, during a postgraduate program at the University of Edinburgh-Edinburgh College of Art. While studying the History of Art (in a building far removed from the art school), Kate Mothes established the blog as a way to connect with artists and exhibitions in Scotland.
It grew into a nomadic project platform once she moved back to her home state, Wisconsin, where it has taken the shape of numerous collaborative projects, in addition to the online platform. After going on hiatus for several months while other projects took over, it was re-launched in October 2016 with a new format, featuring original interviews and other content. Since then, it has grown exponentially, leading to a brand new website relaunch and series of projects in March 2018. It continues to expand and reconfigure in response to artists’ input and participation.
REGION
A comprehensive feature on any state, area, or city that lacks mainstream coverage. Region considers the various factors that influence a particular art scene or art-making community, and how it sustains itself. Region also includes profiles of individuals influencing the area (be they curators, writers, artists, professors, etc.), and is always written by people familiar with the topography of the region’s art community. It can include interviews, op-eds, or dialogue in man other forms. Region aims to demystify specific art scenes for interested artists, educators, dealers, curators, advocates, and everything in-between.