View of foyer houseplants at Roots & Culture, taken from outside.

Eric May is a founder of Roots & Culture, a nonprofit gallery space in Chicago that features stellar group and two-person shows throughout the year. May is also the longtime chef at Ox-Bow, a 95 year old summer school/retreat for artists located in Saugatuck, MI. (You can read more about Ox-Bow on Art21 blog here). It’s not completely uncommon to see houseplants in a contemporary art gallery, but the front-window “garden” at Roots & Culture is truly special – the first time I visited R&C several years ago, it was the foyer that really captured my fancy. It’s earthy, beautiful, completely unpretentious, and somehow those plants seem to encapsulate everything that Roots & Culture and its approach to exhibiting art (and creating community around art exhibition) is all about. Heidi Norton and I talked to Eric about how he came to found R&C, his passion for sustainable living, his life at Ox-Bow, and a range of other topics. We’re truly grateful to him for taking the time to talk with us.

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Claudine Ise: Tell us about how you found the space that Roots & Culture is in. I’ve always been struck by the fact that although it’s a storefront space, the setup inside is really homey – and in fact, there’s a full kitchen in back, and you have a “garden” in the front, not unlike a home. You transplanted the kitchen from Ox-Bow – why? And what kind of plants are in the front window? They all seem to be thriving there.

Eric May: Initially, I had been shopping around for a space without a clear idea of what I had in mind. Really, I had been growing bored with the Logan Square area where I had lived for seven years and it was time to move. The Noble Square/ East Village area was appealing. It was affordable and seemed much more central. So I started looking in that area for a few months. My dad actually first came across the space at 1034 Milwaukee and let me know that it was a potentially interesting space to house many activities. I was looking for a place that would be multi- functional, a live/work type of environment but not exclusively an exhibition space. I was for sure captivated by the idea of art cohabitating with daily life which I had come to experience through apartment galleries and the like in the Chicago scene in the early to mid 2000’s. I was also working as a curator at another nonprofit gallery, so when we found the storefront it seemed like a natural choice to open as a gallery. And it had ample studio space in the basement and a modest loft that we built out as an apartment.

I really lucked out I think, because I had enough space to build out a clean, professional gallery. I remember consulting John Corbett about my initial plans to open an apartment gallery and he said, “just make sure that there aren’t stacks of pizza boxes everywhere”.

View of kitchen at Roots & Culture, with old Ox-Bow stove in background.

Also I was really impressed by spaces like duchess and 65GRAND, which I felt were very successfully exhibiting work in crisp, clean spaces while still feeling welcoming and homey. So a certain level of professionalism was always in mind as we designed the space. That said, I deeply believed in the idea that by creating an exhibition space which had a domestic, holistic feel, it could slow down the viewing process- a space in which an audience can linger and exchange. Offering food at our events seemed like a great way to encourage this type of viewing experience, since I have a background in cooking. As for the stove- Ox-Bow had begun renovating and rebuilding certain buildings on campus in late 2005, which included the kitchen. I asked them if I could keep the old stove (which I had learned to cook on), at the time having no idea what to do with it. My friends were kind enough to let me store it in their barn on the farm in northwest Indiana and fortunately a year later I had a space to move it into. The party is always in the kitchen, so we designed an ample kitchen as a reception area with the old stove as the focal point.

The hearth, a source of warmth and nourishment, is an essential nucleus of a happy, healthy home and I thought this would be a wonderful attribute of the space. I like to see Roots & Culture as a bigger project, an experiment in ecology both social, domestic, and also biological, more on the latter to follow.

Heidi Norton: My parents spent their 20′s living off the land- building cabins, raising animals, crops and subsequently it has influenced my art and life extensively in a variety of ways. You have been committed to Ox-Bow for many years, can you talk about how a space like Ox-Bow and it’s relationship to nature and land has influence your philosophies around art and food? What is Ox-Bow to you?

EM: Ox-Bow is my favorite place, my second home, and a place that has taught me a lot in my adult life. I grew up in places with access to nature and was super interested in plants and animals as a child. In fact I spent most of my summers in the Western Michigan area, so the Saugatuck area was very familiar and a landscape that felt native to me. Ox-Bow’s land is a treasure of untouched natural beauty in the Midwest and has a rich and diverse ecosystem. I have encountered many a breathtaking natural experience in my years- the mating dance of the ichneumon wasp, finding giant moths on my cabin, stumbling across a family of barred owl chicks, spotting a red fox darting across the meadow, foraging from a dead tree in full bloom with chicken-of-the-woods mushrooms. A few of my early co-workers in the kitchen grew up in rural areas, so they proved to be a wealth of knowledge in the old ways and taught me many old timey skills such as canning, pickling, homebrewing, slaughtering chickens, and gardening. We have an ethos of wasting as little as possible, composting everything, using scraps for stocks, etc. The area is a fecund and robust agricultural region and we have access to an amazing bounty of naturally raised produce. Its funny because the mantra of seasonal, local, farm-to-table eating has become so fashionable in the city and it’s the kind of philosophy that has existed in the Ox-Bow kitchen for decades. And our producers, until recently, did not have to advertise the virtues of their products because they have all along just adhered to the old ways, generations of sustainable farm practices. So clearly living and working in the heart of the country has had a huge influence on my approach to cuisine. There is a more meta influence that Ox-Bow has had upon my broader practice and I think its pretty simple- in this experience which is closer to the land, I have learned a sensitivity toward relationships between ourselves, our environment, and the other beings that populate it. Equally central to this is the closeness of the community and shared experience, which is focused 24/7 on the pursuit of creative endeavors. The proximity in which we work and live requires a sensitivity to others and a sense of collectivity. These are core values to what I do.

Shelter at Ox-Bow

CI: Do you have a garden at home? If so, what’s in it?

EM: You might call our horticultural dabblings at R & C “gardens”. I like to keep a diversity of plants and animals around me, so I have always kept pets and house plants. The foyer garden at the gallery began as a collection of my houseplants. It’s probably the efforts of Mike Wolf, who has been a resident of the space for four years, that nudged the houseplant zone into what you might call a garden. Over the years, he’s started fruit trees up there. Green onions grow pretty successfully. I was really impressed when he pulled up some voluptuous bulbs of ginger out of one of the pots recently. He has also ran a compost program in the basement and always has seeds germinating down there. Last year I built out an unused room in the basement into a garden and contemplative space that I call the “Grow Room.” I successfully grew lettuces, radishes, and herbs, but ultimately felt like the produce was lacking in a robust flavor that I reckon is developed from natural sunlight. The electric bills also did not exactly make the endeavor a sustainable practice in terms of energy produced versus energy consumed. I also have grown mushrooms down there, which require far less light, and now I primarily grow exotic mushrooms down there these days- shitakes, blue and pearl oysters, and lion’s mane mushrooms.

Eric May's "Grow Room"

View of plants inside Roots & Culture, taken from outside.

HN: Claudine and I recently stumbled upon this restaurant at the Crocker Museum for Art in downtown Sacramento, opened by a “philosopher”, chef and artist, Jonathon Keats. Keats says,  “this is not a restaurant for humans to eat plants; rather, it is an exercise in creating a dining experience for the plants themselves, with a menu of enhanced sunlight that is designed to appeal to their sophisticated sensory apparatus, providing them with not only energy, but also a satisfying, piquant, and delightful experience.” In your opinion, what does this “solar gastronomy” offer to human mankind and to plant/botanical mankind? What are your views on this dining by the electromagnetic spectrum philosophy? Gimmick or cool?

EM: This “plant restaurant” project looks pretty silly to me. I like the idea of revering plants and drawing focus to their life cycle. But to call it a restaurant and to frame the serving of light to organisms that do not perceive pleasure to cuisine seems a bit of a stretch. And this is coming from someone who has hosted dinner parties for wild animals. In my work, though, I am highlighting the differences in consumptive habits of people to animals and unpacking the anthropomorphizing of animals. I’m having a hard time locating intention for Keats’ framing this work as cuisine. In my grow room project I have been interested in the co-presence of consumption and production of horticulture. That said, an aspect of this work, the idea of granting plants their own time and space to consume is kind of cool. Maybe it would be more complicated for an audience if they were invited to dine upon plants as the plants “dine” upon light. I like his cookbook format though, recipes are a great discursive tool for work like this, a strategy I’ve used in some of my own writing. It kind of harkens back to the old school conceptualists and their lists of directives for recreating their work.

CI: To me, the name ‘Roots and Culture’ has a kind of retro-hippy vibe that doesn’t scream out “Contemporary Art shown here!” What does the name of your space mean to you?

EM: The name, I get this question every once in awhile. Retro- hippy vibe works for me! The name comes from my love of reggae music, Roots & Culture was a movement in Jamaican music during the early to late seventies, which is aligned with the Rastafarian movement and Garveyism. Of course it’s more than a little clumsy to reference such a specific historical moment that my only real connection to is through cultural fandom. More generally though, the music represented a shift from more base, popular subject matter to socially conscious meaning. I like that as a metaphor for our activities. I like the slipperiness of signifiers too, and I like the openness of the name. It is very clear in a way, but also layered with other referents, like to botanical and fungal ideas. This kind of broad way to talk about ecology is at the core of my practices and I couldn’t really articulate that when I first opened the space, but have now come to as my practice has expanded.

View of foyer plants at Roots & Culture, taken from outside

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(Ed. Note: May’s essay takes the format of responses to a series of questions about Chicago’s apartment gallery scene, posed by EC Brown of Floor Length and Tux).

Do these space have real cultural or regional impact? Does anyone really care if Chicago has 2.3 trillion small project spaces?

The overall arc of sixty+ years of independent art spaces in Chicago clearly has significance in that it’s become the tradition it has, and an activity that folks here seem to stay interested in. Beyond that, the factors of cheap rent, lack of venues, and DIY spirit lend to the reason why every other undergrad starts their own space and we end up with 2.3 trillion things going on. I think that perhaps one of the strongest cultural benefits is the self- education of young folks in organizing- something risky and entrepreneurial. It almost doesn’t matter if their project is “successful”- at least they’ve gone through the motions of taking on something bigger, outside themselves, and collaborative. And who will see all these activities? I think that’s up to the folks running these spaces and how hard they are willing to work to promote themselves and stay dedicated. Some survive, some don’t- lesson learned. A recent train of thought has questioned whether these spaces are a mere surrogate for the healthier, better supported art venues of the bigger cultural centers- a last ditch effort for artists to get their work shown. All said, in the end of the day, the work gets shown. Chicago can have a really healthy community-supported art scene. Regional impact beyond our own metropolitan area? Folks that I know in Indianapolis, Milwaukee, Detroit, Grand Rapids, Kansas City, St. Louis, Ann Arbor, and Minneapolis pay attention to what happens here. I know people that, inspired by the independent space scene in Chicago, have embarked on their own spaces in their home cities. Flyover maybe, but at least Chicago’s got the busiest airport (do we even anymore?). Beyond that? Eh. Maybe I’m the wrong person to ask – I’ve been here my whole life! More press would be helpful…

Do these projects propose alternatives to institutional models or do they reinforce them?

We all start out feeling revolutionary in our aims, to do something better, more community-based, holistic. I guess the models that we have are, in fact, usually of the institutional template, though. In some ways I feel that the dominant modes of production- the very art being made and shown follows pretty conservative models. White wall, painting, sculpture, pedestal, postcard, press release, price list, opening- it is all rather rote and familiar of the institution. Perhaps we are at a moment where all is challenged- a proposition that interests me. Artists making conventional objects need conventional exhibition space- but let’s say we blow the whole thing apart. Social projects, space as practice, radical arts admin, I think that it’s a ripe moment to challenge the institutional paradigm. Artists run spaces? I keep asking myself what this means, what if I really ran a space as the artist? Actually, I run a space that functions quite by the books for the most part- though, I do believe that we are an active and relevant part of the art world. Some day I may re-invent the space, but for now, I am bound to the dominant structure and will support the kind of objectmaking- that while sometimes may feel conservative – I feel is still worthy of contemplation.

Do these spaces really provide something that institutions or larger galleries can’t?

I think this is a good point of defense for these kinds of activities. Again, maybe it’s a Chicago thing and symptomatic of our weak collector/ commercial gallery system that cannot support the throngs of artists produced yearly by our plethora of art degree producing programs. But I truly believe that we need the independent spaces to self-support our scene. Nurturing challenging and indefinable work is always at the core of the best of the missions of these spaces. If commercial galleries are too nervous to work with this type of art because there will be no one to buy it, then in order to foster a healthy and provocative art scene we need independent spaces to fill this role. I think that the nonprofit model can still be relevant in obtaining cultural monies to support such projects. Even more progressive programs can take this further, blurring definitions of artist run space/ curation/ production. If we look ahead to more progressive models of both exhibition and production, we will need to move further and further toward new models that will support these new activities.

Have there been particular programs that you feel excelled in these spaces and would have benefited from being seen in a more traditional environment?

Well, I support all of my artists and wish for them to succeed in their careers, so of course I can envision our programming in larger art centers, museums, and perhaps commercial galleries. There seems to be an identity crisis that might be particular to Chicago – on one hand you’ve got the DIY, decentralized, almost anti-consumerist activities by both artists and venues. Then there are plenty of artists and spaces – both “alternative” and independent – style commercial spaces that are interested in participating in the market and the production and exchange of saleable objects. I cannot blame any artist for striving to achieve financial successes, we all know how hard it is. Make nice paintings, want them to sell? Why not. In the Capitalist age we all must survive in someway and that might mean participating in more traditional environments. On the other hand, programming at more progressive projects like Mess Hall and InCubate would be paradoxical to enter into institutional environments. I can think of several particular programs at R & C that probably would not fit so well either.

Are these projects a manifestation of DIY, or are they rogue businesses? Or vanity projects masquerading as non-profit cultural services?

Well with a constituency of 2.3 trillion, I think that the alt-space scene in Chicago most likely ranges the gamut. R & C has probably existed as all of these things. DIY seems a pretty common operational mode for most of these spaces. I don’t see larger institutions or private donors throwing loads of cash at start up galleries – we all start modestly and with support generally from our peers and friends. As for the idea of rogue business–that depends on how well folks have their shit together. Ways in which I ran our space for the first year and a half were off-the-books, the days before we were 501(c)(3). Also, it is so unclear sometimes what the convoluted beaurecracies of this city expect in terms of licensing and permits – they seem to invent new hurdles for small businesses all the time. Look at the wave of crack down last summer – I mean in my eyes, the Green Lantern is probably one of the more legitimized and organized spaces in the city, but they ran into trouble – for what, a sandwich board? Broke city needs money. Another example of DIY, while being a totally legitimately- run business is Golden Gallery. I can think of more-than-a-handful of commercial galleries in the West Loop that had humble, perhaps legally questionable, beginnings in apartments and Pilsen storefronts. Vanity projects – who wouldn’t take pride in the endless time and energy that they put forth towards a project with little gain other than supporting the local arts community. Maybe there are a few instances where self-centered motives can present a conflict of interest – for instance, curating your own art work into your own shows or at your own space. What else would this mean? I can see where maybe a curator puts together a show to the means of their own critical standpoint, but that seems commonplace enough. I don’t think I am comfortable pointing fingers at anyone in particular’s own “vanity”. I’m sure that there is plenty of it, hell, I’m vain sometimes, but projects like these for the most part, I envision to be generous and oftentimes selfless acts.

Do these projects impact, in any way, the neighborhoods they are situated in?

That is an interesting question, one that is often asked by granting organizations in their proposals. Most immediately, I feel like new communities form around some of the more off-the-beaten path spaces. This raises questions of gentrification when seen through the perspective of neighborhoods with settled populations invaded by the art-going masses (which tend to have a certain overall demographic- educated, maybe in the upper range of the middle class). It is really tricky to reach beyond that community. At R & C, I feel like we have some success- being on a commercial strip – at attracting the customers and proprietors alike of nearby businesses – the coffee shop, the resale shop, the bike shop, the tattoo shop – I mean I guess there’s not a huge gap in these kinds of audiences, but it mixes things up. Having a high school across the way always makes for an interesting dynamic – I can’t say that many of the kids have tried to stop by (they like fucking with my cats through the window), but the teachers stop by for sure. I was at an opening on an unusually warm autumn night at a new space in Humboldt Park, Monument 2, and there was a pack of neighborhood kids who came around with piñatas and caused quite a scene on the sidewalk. That was a good vibe, having rug rats running in and out of the gallery. Inevitably, though, you see mostly the same faces at art events.

Do these spaces provide a solution to Brain Drain in Chicago? Do these spaces create collectors?

Geez, I would probably have to say that the independent spaces do not solve the greater problem of “Brain Drain”. There simply are not enough resources to go around to support artists in their adult lives, exhibiting from one independent space to the next. Plenty of artists find other means and obviously stick around. I think a common path outside of the commercial system is obviously in education. The plateau seems to happen pretty quickly with the careers of showing artists that work with independent spaces (and even our commercial galleries)- there is this sort of apex of street cred that one can develop which doesn’t necessarily pay the bills. As a nonprofit, I envision a situation where perhaps I could provide stipends for my artists. If there was more public funding to go around this could be a reality, like in Europe or Canada. But unfortunately, I feel like there are two major options that the artist can foresee – get a day job (not a necessarily a bad thing) or find gallery representation. And with a lack of commercial options here, artists turn to the independent spaces, who try as hard as they may, don’t typically have the resources to help artists make a living wage for themselves. So, the folks that wish to sell their work to make a living – they bounce, anyone with some tenure in this city has watched half of their friends inevitably leave for the coasts. Do these spaces create collectors? I’ve seen some evidence of this. I think there is a moment when spaces “grow up” and stray from the pack-em-in free beer party scene and start to function like business professionals. It takes a lot of work to court someone with an interest in art and can afford it, but might not necessarily know what they are looking at. My strategy is to throw the right kind of parties where folks like these will feel comfortable to view art, have conversation, and hopefully buy something- and sometimes it works. Maybe I’m not ready to grow up yet, but grown up parties can be fun (and more productive), too.

Eric May is an artist and the director of Roots and Culture gallery.

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Editors’ Note: All this week we’re running some of the essays written for Floor Length and Tux’s “Untitled Circus” event this past weekend. A number of essays on Chicago’s thriving domestic/apartment gallery art space scene were solicited from local writers/artists/curators involved in the running of such spaces, and we’re posting some of them here on Bad at Sports as a way to extend the discussion. Please feel free to email us with your comments at mail@badatsports.com, or if you’d like to contact the folks at FLAT directly, you can email EC Brown at erik@ floorlengthandtux.com.

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