PowerHouse Presents . . . Kathryne Hall
Interview by Astrid Persans

Kathryne Hall is a relatively unknown quantity in the art world—for now, at least. Rather than pining for the recognition that can be so hard for young artists to achieve, in two short years she has singlehandedly moved her public installation ideas from the drawing board out onto the streets of New York.
Her installations are mischievous, thoroughly engaging and have already garnered press recognition that would make any gallerist proud. Hall amply demonstrates that when talent is married to a little entrepreneurial chutzpah the work is made, gets an audience and can be on the artist’s own terms—she’s an example to us all.
We met up at a café in Dumbo in early September to talk about her inaugural Aberrant installation series, how to access great thoughts and what it takes to d.i.y.
PowerHouse Presents: One of the reasons I was excited to do this interview was your DIY mode of operation. You seem to have stepped successfully around galleries in favor of going it alone on your own projects. So. . .
Kathryne Hall: How did that happen?
PHP: Yes, exactly.
KH: I knew I wanted to do big sculpture and had been applying to all of the emerging sculptor shows. It was very discouraging, because you’re in a giant pool of people, you’re making these maquettes and renderings and thinking “I can’t really afford to do this on my own. I need to get into this program”. Then you don’t get in, and you don’t make the work.
I ended up pairing with a mentor off the NYFA website, Brainard Carey, and worked with him for a few months in 2007. He told me “Artists don’t need curators. Curators need artists. Don’t wait around for the emerging artist show; just do your work.”
PHP: Good advice. People do tend to give up when they don’t gain immediate recognition, and eventually segue into something that’s related but isn’t actually their art practice.
KH: Right. And I find that very frustrating. I feel that’s happened to a lot of female artists. There are tons of women in art school and not very many ten years later who are still making work. In a very general sense, for whatever reason, I think women are bit more likely to say “Well I didn’t get into that show; maybe I’m not really an artist. Maybe I’ll go work in a gallery,” and men tend to be like “Well I’ll show them. I’m gonna do it. I’m going to be the best.” That just made me feel more determined really to make work. 
So I made a model of a car with a tube through it. It was liberating to realize that I could fund this myself and do it temporarily. I’d been thinking of outdoor sculpture as permanent; it’s got be made to withstand 80 mph winds and rain and kids climbing on it. But if you do things on a temporary basis it doesn’t have to.
I also like the fact that temporary public art adds all sorts of different meanings to things. It’s there. It’s not there. You never have that boredom with it.
And of course once I started doing my own projects, things started happening for me.