By Andrew Amelinckx
Appeared in The Register-Star, October 8, 2007
At first glance the structure on Route 11 in Ancram appears to be just another deserted roadside gas station, like many others people pass on rural roads, but this one is different. It isn’t a gas station at all but a large scale art piece by New York City-based artist and professor of Fine Art at Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, Martine Kaczynski, built over the course of several months, beginning in June, as part of the Rural Projects artist residency program. The operatic strains of Giacomo Puccini’s music were heard Saturday evening at the premiere of the piece, which is aptly titled “Route 11.” Rie Miyake and Kristin Ezell, who are in the graduate music program at Bard College, performed selected works by Puccini at the installation site for a gathered crowd both local and from further afield.
Kaczynski, who has been exhibiting since the 1990's, has shown her large scale, site-specific architectural pieces in many venues including the Socrates Sculpture Park in New York City, the Rosen Sculpture Park in Boone, N.C., and the Lipe Sculpture Park in Syracuse. “It’s been a great summer for us,” said Sarah Anderson-Lock, who along with her husband, Greg Lock, founded Rural Projects.
The Locks provided both the work and living space as well as the land for Kaczynski, their first artist in residence, this summer. Anderson-Lock said that Kaczynski was “dedicated to her art” and “threw herself into the project.” The London born Kaczynski , who has been in the states for 17 years, said she “ruminated” on the project for two years before beginning the physical work of building the piece.
“I started cataloging these strange photos I was taking of abandoned gas stations,” she said. From there she discovered the basic structure behind them. “It’s almost modular — recognizable,” she said, calling the abandoned spaces such as the one her work mimics “future relics of America.” She started with the photographs and drawings, built models and worked with the design on site as well. Kaczynski, along with her assistant, Christopher Werner, built the piece by hand.
They worked on the project “on and off” from June until October from 5 a.m. to 7 p.m. “It was very physical, and quite brutal,” she said. According to Kaczynski, Werner, who is from Columbia County, became a collaborator on the piece. “We worked closely together. I couldn’t have done it without him.” The money for the piece came out of Kaczynski’s pocket. “It broke me a couple of times,” she said, but added that if she hadn’t spent the amount of money she did on the project “it wouldn’t have come out as cleanly as it did.”
According to Kaczynski, this is phase one of her project. In phase two she plans to install solar panels on the roof to power an out door movie projector. The work relates to the idea of the plight of a fuel consuming society and the search for alternatives to oil. “My sister works at Shell,” she said. Kaczynski also plans to advertise the piece locally as a “changeable venue” to rent for outdoor functions, such as dance and other performing arts, and hopes to work with kids at the site. “I’ve always been involved with art education,” she said.
Rural Projects is situated on 30-acres of wooded hills, which have belonged to the Locks for four years. Their 12,000 square-foot barn has been converted into a studio, and is in the process of being further converted into a living space for the residency program. “We hope to renovate little by little,” said Anderson- Lock. According to Anderson- Lock, Rural Projects is a summer only residency because of the “seasonal” work space, but that the program isn’t just for sculptors. “We’re totally open to two dimensional work,” she said, adding that they were looking for “artists established enough to come and realize something ambitious” and that at some point they would like the barn to be an exhibition space for local and regional artists.
Kaczynski said that she felt her piece would “become part of the community.” She said that while they were working on the piece people would honk their horn as they drove by. “They have definitely softened up to art,” she said with a smile.
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