Infrastructure is my Art

It was May 2018. I had just finished my second year at the School of Art, and had been granted a Summer Research Award under professor, Grace Nickel. Freshly inspired by lectures on the integration of science and art from Seema Goel, who was the head of the University’s STEAM program, I was beginning to read chaos theory and considering ways of applying this to my art. That summer I dove headfirst into theorizing, experimentation, and by the end of it had produced a singular work that fundamentally changed my approach and practice in art. It has been almost 6 years since then, and I am still exploring the ideas I first touched on back then. 

Looking back, there is no way I could have predicted how formational that summer would be. Not only did I receive incredible one-on-one guidance and mentorship from Professor Nickel, but I also was able to produce my first independent work, and cultivate my own experimental approach to clay. 

But beyond that, there is something else about that summer that has recently resurfaced. 

The first thing I had to do was set up my studio. I had to wait until all the honors students had cleaned up their spaces and after that I was allowed to take up two sections. This was possibly one of the most luxurious art experiences of my life. 

I had been working with clay in my kitchen, and within the classroom, so the invitation to take up two honors studios felt like a universe handed to me on a platter. 

Just to spell it out for a second. 

I was working in clay in my kitchen… 

Read: working with a messy, dusty, potentially hazardous material (when dry or when working with glaze chemicals, not to mention the firings) in my shared domestic space. IE, I was constantly vigilant to clean up my mess, aware of the irritation that working in a domestic space produces, and always balancing my desire for exploration with the need to contain my practice. 

…and within the classroom…

Read: all material and work must fit within a syllabus and on a shelf. All work must be completed within strict timelines. All exploration is publicly viewable. 

So the invitation to take up two honors studios felt like a universe handed to me on a platter. 

And in a way it was. 

I am a relentless documentor, so I documented the process of setting up my studio. I took such joy in the act. A place for thinking. A place for experimenting. A place for working. 

Space, space, space!

So much space. 

I could take up as much as I wanted. My imagination was my only limit. 

Omg, space determines art, I remember thinking to myself.

I left it at that and went on with my research. I couldn’t have known that in a few short years I would be exploring this idea so fully. 

It is time for me to begin to explore this medium. Change the infrastructure, you change your imagination and consequently your art. 

What is it called when Infrastructure is a medium?

Whether it is making a Tiny Gallery to install in small Manitoba towns, or starting a business combining a micro brewery with a contemporary art gallery, or now experimenting with a new kind of arts organization called, The Creative Uncommon–I am fairly certain, that along with print, photography and clay, infrastructure is one of my mediums. 

I don’t just want to work with clay–I want to set up a studio to work with clay. I don’t just want to exhibit works, I want to explore creative ways of understanding art and audience. I don’t just want to work for or even run an artist organizations–I want to reinvent artist organizations. 

Change the infrastructure, you change the world. 

Infrastructure is my art.