Artist-Run KC: Mike Erickson and Erika Lynne Hanson on 1522 Saint Louis, a Humble West Bottoms Space

It was via email I was able to meet and interview former Charlotte Street Fellows Mike

Erickson and Erica Lynne Hanson about 1522 St. Louis, a project space in Kansas City

founded in 2012. 1522 St. Louis at the time offered “a platform for artists to explore

possibilities and projects outside of their standard studio practice, through collaboration,

questioning, and the opportunity of space.” I emailed both of them a set of questions to

respond to about the logistics of the space and how it coincided with their individual art

practices. After Mike responded, Erika was able to then lend her own perspective on the

experience of running 1522 St. Louis.

Julia Monte: How did all of the artists who ran this art space initially come together

and what steps were taken to get 1522 St. Louis up and running?

Mike Erickson: For me, I remember it like this. I was trying to figure out how to move into that

space. I knew the landlord and had previously talked to him about smaller spaces for gallery

possibilities. As time passed I needed a live/work space and knew of 1522, but couldn’t

afford it all on my own, it was too much space for me. I had friends that were interested in

studio spaces which was great, but there was space left open and through talking with my

coworker, Justin Gainan, I had found out he and Erika had similar interests in opening a

gallery space. Since there was space available and a shared interest it all seemed to fall into

place.

I can’t really honestly remember much that it took to get it running. Some money. There were

people that we wanted to show, I would think for each of us, probably before even the space

was a real thing, so that part wasn’t hard. We chose a name for the space–its address–and

made a logo based off of hobo signs.

I will admit that first year I didn’t do much, if really anything, administratively; I think I thought

of myself more as a caretaker of the gallery space at that time. I thought a lot about the vibes

of the place, haha, that’s what I was really looking for. I wanted the space to build or gather a

type of energy I thought I had grown up on in the city’s gallery scene when I was a student

and freshly after. Once it was just me running the space, I really got a full idea of what it

takes to run something like that and it was more than I thought, for sure. It’s a lot. I honestly

don’t think one person should try to do it on their own, it’s a dumb attempt. Those types of

projects benefit from multiple perspectives.

Erika Lynne Hanson: At the time, I remember there were a number of folks thinking about

starting spaces. I had chatted with some of the people that would become original PLUG

members, and there was a sense that the city could use more contexts for viewing and

exhibiting work. Mike and Justin Gainan wanted to start something as well. I remember in

our initial conversations there was a real opposition to looking for granting and funding

sources. I am sure this was for a number of reasons, but I think at the heart of it was the

desire to be a totally autonomous entity that could be as loose and flexible as possible. From

there, like Mike said, we just kind of made it happen.

For the first year, I took a lot of the lead on admin and PR things, as well as working on

shaping the exhibitions, working with the artists to try and instigate risk.

An image of Amy Kligman’s show, You’re Invited.

JM: What were some of the possibilities and projects that were investigated in this

space and by whom?

ME: There was a lot that took place in there and I feel like I could talk more about projects

than possibilities, because in a sense they were and are all possibilities still. So many

wonderful things.

ELH: One of the focuses we had when starting 1522 was to create a space where it was

okay to fail, and really tried to convince the artists to make new work that they had been

thinking about, but was maybe outside of their normal practice.

Like for our first two exhibitions Katie Ford and Lee Peichoki were asked to respond to the

the words “Naamah, Ulignous, & Laborer”, that were chosen by tossing a dictionary into the

air. The exhibitions were interesting in relation— Katie built an installation that explored failed

utopias, and Lee Showed these surrealist domestic paintings— there was a similarity in the

vibe of the exhibitions, while the work was totally different. Without our prompting both

exhibitions ended up speaking to ideals and expectations and the inherent “spookiness” that

can come from one’s projection.

In a later series of exhibitions we asked 4 artists to use the space as a studio / laboratory to

create installations that functioned differently than their usual work, Amy Kligman totally

embraced this challenge to the fullest, working with so many awesome party supplies to

create a wild, yet smart, installation.

JM: What was one of your favorite events or projects at the space?

ME: I loved the openings. The people, new friends and old friends, the talk, the laughs. I lost

my voice at one of the first shows, I think Amanda Gehin’s. I still have a wheat bundle from

the Hmh Services show. I remember how crowded it felt in there at David Rhoads’ opening.

The snow and cold during Garrett Hayes’ show. We had a Dolphin family dinner among Elvis

Achepol’s exhibition — which was of drawings of the furniture from the Dolphin’s backrooms.

Its really difficult for me to separate my memories of my life at that time from my memories of

the gallery; I like that.

ELH: We did a show called Monkey Business that paired Julie Malen’s personified monkey

sculptures with Hundreds of Milton Stevenson’s paintings. The exhibition vibrated between

being sincere, cynical, critical and playful— in the works themselves and in the pairing.

JM: Were you both making work while running the space? If so, how was the work

influenced and what advice might you give to a young artist on how to make work

while also running/starting a new art space?

ME: Yeah, I was definitely making my own things while the gallery was going. My studio was

on the flip side of one of the gallery’s walls. Did it have an influence on my work? I think it

must have, yes, but perhaps no more so than say reading the news, the morning coffee

ritual, or the weather. I name those examples because they are daily things. That space was

that for me, I was in it every single day, it was the last space I was in when I leaving my

house and the first space I walked though when I came home every time.

The advice I would give is to make sure you have the desire to do both. Either one, artist and

gallery director (if that’s what that is), in and of themselves, requires serious time and

dedication and commitment to do, so choosing to try both at once can be an invitation to

feeling overwhelmed in side in many ways, was for me at least.

I think the times I did the worst, and there are a number of times in contention for that title, at

running that space is when I was focused more on my own situation and less on the gallery’s

situation. Those spaces can be run by you but they are not you, they are something uniquely

themselves with their own needs separate from yours and so a relationship develops, must

develop, a give and take, and it’s real. For it to be successful the proper attention must be

paid.

ELH: I was actively making work, curating other exhibitions, and teaching at KCAI during this

time. I think that the work I did for 1522 was often influenced by my studio practice, thinking

about how I was viewing it as a shifting thing, and challenging myself to stay flexible. That

often spilled over into the questions I would ask of the artists when approaching them about

doing a project.

In hindsight, it seems like there were magically more hours in a day then! I would say that

making time to be in your studio is the most vital thing, by this I don’t mean necessarily a

physical studio, but in the mind set where you can be working through problems and

scheming new ideas.

JM: What was the motivation behind closing 1522 St. Louis? Have you planned/do you

plan on starting a new project like it?

ELH: That was ultimately Mike’s decision, since Justin and I left Kansas City after the first

year and a half of 1522’s run.

ME: I was moving. That is mainly why I closed it. I was also feeling a little worn from doing it

myself for two years (after Amanda and Justin left). It was a lot for me to do, and I was the

type to not really feel comfortable asking for help with it or delegating portions of the work to

others, would I do it again? Maybe, I can admit I do think of it at times and miss those

activities that surround a space like that and its operations. For me to do it again the situation

would have to feel just right, so far that’s not been the case.

JM: Mike, now that you have moved to Northern CA, can you talk a little bit about how

the climate in the artist community has changed and what you are doing now as an

artist in a new community?

ME: The town I live in now, Tomales, is tiny with a population of around 250. So in this town

itself it’s relatively fair to say there isn’t much of an art community, although there are creative

people. Truthfully in the last two years I have only visited a gallery or museum once, and I

was traveling at the time. While there aren’t those type of institutions super close nearby

there is the ocean and beautiful landscapes and seascapes, all new to me. Types of regional

agricultural architecture, such different light, super thick fogs, whales, owls, sounds of cow

sex, clean air, rain for days, and green fields around christmas, in a sense that’s a new

community for me. And a community that informs my making.

I still paint, and being out here removed from the influence of the a scene has changed the

paintings I think, but other things have as well. Having spent so much time in the midwest I

was never aware of a landscape near me that captivated me enough to make me want to try

to paint it. Out here I can’t stop looking and learning how to look just by looking at the

landscape, that it feels silly to think I never wanted to paint landscapes.

I have always possessed the ability to be a hermit. Kind of disappear into the studio. I can do

that very easily out here. An interesting thing though is then trying to find the energy source

or tap that I always sought when I wanted to be social and have that type of interaction, take

in that type of information. Out here the closest I have gotten to the energy I got from the art

scene in KC has been through the an aspect of the farming/agricultural scene. I worked at an

organic farm stand that also had a internship program as a part of it. Sounds odd or not, but

there are a bunch of young people out here living in old chicken coops and out buildings and

waking up at three in the a.m. with their best friends and tend to and harvest plants we can

eat. Things that nourish. I like that that energy is similar to the pack feel of my art making

community memories. Everyone loving everyone else’s production.

I think making things is a bit like golf in that ultimately you will probably play your best game

when you are content focusing on your own game/play and not the game/play of others, but

yet you see how others play it, and then you can think of ways to play it more in your own

way. Triangulate your position. With the internet and social media you can keep up with it,

the game, from pretty much anywhere if you want. All the situations for inspiration exist and

all the freedom of being away from it exist as well, all a choice. What a good time to paint or

make I think.

JM: Erika, could you talk a little bit about what you are doing now within your art

practice?

ELH: When I left Kansas City it was to take a faculty position at Arizona State University,

teaching courses that focused on fiber and socially engaged practices. My work has always

referred to the landscape, often as a thing that was distant to the human. Once I relocated to

the desert that had to be totally rethought — humans are intrinsically part of the landscape.

My current projects explore the creation of locations for meaningful interactions between

objects (and when I say objects I am including humans as well). In more plain language, it is

a re-homing campaign. I am weaving flags that pay homage to a thing that has been

displaced from the landscape, then the flags are brought to the location. So far I’ve visited a

glacier, sand dunes, and a dark skies town. I am really lucky with my current position,

because it provides a reasonable amount of flexibility to travel for exhibitions and

residencies.

An image from Garrett Hayes’ show, Artifactual Fiction

Artist Run KC is a print publication from Informality that encapsulates a partial history of

artist-run spaces in Kansas City.

Artist-Run KC features interviews with former Charlotte Street Foundation Artist Award

Fellows who have managed spaces or contributed in a meaningful way to Kansas City’s

artist-run scene. This zine was produced by Informality in collaboration with PLUG Projects

and commissioned by the Charlotte Street Foundation for their 20th anniversary celebration,

Every Street is Charlotte Street. Artist Run KC features interviews with David Ford, Tom

Gregg, Peregrine Honig, Mike Erikson, Madeline Gallucci, Erica Lynne Hanson, Garry

Noland, Glenn North, Dylan Mortimer, Sean Starowitz, Caleb Taylor, Heidi Van, Jaimie

Warren, and Davin Watne.

Artist Run KC launched at PLUG Projects on NOVEMBER 12th 2017 alongside their revised

PLUG book! If you are interested in a copy email editor@informalityblog.com