Katie Anderson is one of those people who get's shit done. She is a prolific and determined artist who hit the ground running after art school and found her feet in a strong creative community in rural Scotland.
When I look at Katie's work I feel grounded and transported all at once. Site specificity and community engagement are strong, mobilising components to Katie’s practice. Her work is steeped in place. One feels as though each work is firmly grounded, as though they are imbued with a soul of the soil on which they stand.
The way Katie and I met may seem slightly outdated. We began sending handwritten letters across the world to each other through a pen pals initiative in the late 90s. It was all very slow paced. In 2013 while I was mucking around in Scotland, I met up with Katie in Edinburgh. She showed me some galleries and for those few short hours I fell in rhythm with her calm personality and voracious appetite for art. Other than this first meeting, our friendship has been one of distance and great stretches of time between communications. Rather than being detrimental, this slow pace has made space for a connection that has endured nearly two decades.
After school we both went on to study art. Where Katie came out of art school raring to go, I came our reeling and perhaps a little motion sick. Honestly it took me years to find my feet creatively. I have always admired Katie's inherent focus and drive for her work, perhaps because I’ve had to work so hard to develop both in myself. She possesses the simple but essential capacity that a lot of young artists struggle with—Katie does not hesitate to ask questions, seek mentorship and participate in her community.
We got this interview rolling right before the global Covid-19 lock downs, so it has been a boon to reflect with Katie about her process, her hope for the future, adapting to unexpected change and the power of community in the midst of these incredible times globally. I hope you will get just as much inspiration and enjoyment from our conversation as I have.
Amy: Hey mate, can you tell us a little about yourself and what you do?
Katie: Trickiest question first! I’m an artist, based in a relatively rural part of South West Scotland called Dumfries.
It is my family hometown that I’ve returned to and have been based here for over 12 years now.
I’ve been working as an artist since I graduated in 2012 and have grown a practice based on a curiosity about people, places, materials and collaborative practice. I’m interested in meeting points, spaces for gathering and conversations that we might not otherwise have in our day to day.
A: I always love to find this out, what did you think being an artist was when you were a little kid?
K: To be honest, even when I started art school, I had no idea that being ‘an artist’ was a viable thing, beyond a hobby or personal interest. I sort of got into it by accident.
As a kid I didn’t visit art galleries, or know a lot about an art world beyond me and my siblings love of all things craft. I saw my first contemporary art exhibition during my foundation year at art college. It was Louise Bourgeois at the Tate Modern—the whole show just blew me away. Oddly enough, I had spent a lot of time hoping to become a ballet dancer before then.
A: We met as children through a pen pals initiative that you did through your primary school. We literally wrote letters back and forth. Ah the 90s and life before social media. Of all the pen friends I had as a child, you're one of the few people I still have contact with. I'm curious to know, have you found that the art of writing letters and the slower forms of communication are something you have carried into adulthood and art practice?
K: What beautiful, care-free times! I moved about a lot as a kid, so letter writing became a normal part of my early years pre-email. I love the slow process of communication, the personality and the letter as an object— like a physical gift from one to another. Although letter writing doesn’t feature in my work often, but this process of slowing down and creating the intimate and the personal all feature in my creative processes.
A lot of my thinking in my work is about crafting the right invitation. I seek to open up artworks, events, gatherings to as wide a group as possible so that they feel personally welcomed and that their voice is as valid as anyone else’s. All of our media channels are designed for speed, efficiency and clarity—I kind of want to mess with that, we don’t need to be drip fed constant advertising content or carefully curated algorithms.
A: We both went to art school and worked in the mediums of sculpture and installation. After studying at COFA in Sydney, I eventually returned to drawing/ painting, illustration and writing, whereas a great deal of your work inhabits the mediums of sculpture and public installation. Where did you study and how useful did you find your degree in preparing you for your career as an artist? Additionally, was there much practical skills training and information about business management in your course?
K: I studied in a small art school in Carlisle that merged into the University of Cumbria. We had tiny year groups (16 graduated in my year), large studio spaces and lots of easily accessible facilities. It was a dream. The course was a non-specific degree in Fine Art—no requirement to specialise, but I quickly realised that I wanted to learn a skill of some sort, so spent the second half of my degree in the sculpture department working with the technician there (thank you Mitch wherever you are!) to learn the basics of casting in metal, ceramics, and resins.
It gave me a sense of grounded-ness and purpose when I left and I’ve continued to explore process-focused work throughout my developing career. Spending time in the studio investigating process is my ultimate self-indulgence.
Did the degree really prepare me for life after art school? Not at all. I haven’t heard of many degrees that really do and it’s one of the real issues I have with art education at the moment.
Try as they do—and lots of teaching staff are keen to better help students to make the transition— there seems to be something really key missing.
After I left, I signed up for a mentoring session I saw advertised locally and it was the best thing I ever did. He has been my mentor, friend and long time collaborator ever since.
I also was lucky coming out of art school to be able to get a supported studio residency for a year, where I was able to build contacts in my local arts community, set a solid grounding for me to build from, to get advice from other artists and to test ideas in a supportive environment. Students coming out of art school need to be prepared to work so hard, the degree was the easy part!
Pedal Powered Foundry— an oldie, but a good one! Short project in collaboration with maker Uula Jero and The Stove Network to build a working community foundry for use in pop-up spaces. The image shows it at Wigtown Book Festival where we cast 45 aluminium spoons.
Photograph by Colin Tennant.
A: You're a long-standing member of the curatorial team with The Stove Network, an arts collective and community-driven initiative in Dumfries, south-west Scotland. When and how did you first get involved with The Stove? Can you tell us a little about the organisation, your role and what's coming up next in your work at The Stove?
K: The Stove is the reason I’m an artist now. It’s my family, my community and is for a growing number of us in Dumfries and beyond.
I’m so lucky that it came about when it did and that I’ve been able to be so involved in it. I first started to attend and then help out at events just after I graduated, which was when The Stove was really just forming as an organisation. The kind of work The Stove does and the kind of things we get up to as ‘stovies’ has changed so much in this time, but I’m immensely proud of it and the role it plays in local culture and community.
The impact of long term, place-based arts practice is what really draws me in: because we live here, this place is part of us, we are able to interact and engage with the town (place and community) in a really different way from what is possible in short term residencies or other commission-based opportunities.
The Stove is, in effect, a creative-led community space in the heart of Dumfries. We are a small market town with a changing identity, with many of the problems facing similar sized towns in Scotland and the UK generally. The Stove runs a building, programme of activity, alongside events, festivals, permanent public art programmes and other projects that have grown into independent working organisations, all focused on helping to shape the future of Dumfries. It’s an exciting time to place artists at the centre of community-led change.
At the moment, my role is as part of the curatorial team—a team of four artists supporting the direction and activity at The Stove and also leading on an ongoing project, Conversing Building which is effectively a visual arts programme creating temporary displays, installations, signboards and lettering graphics in partnership with the team and also groups within the wider community. I run a monthly film screening programme, pitch in on the social media accounts and am generally to be found running about behind the scenes!
A: Do you have a day job or are you working full time at the Stove? How do you balance work life and your art career?
K: I’ve been lucky enough to be working full time on my arts career since graduating—at the moment, work with The Stove takes up about half of my time and I work on additional independent projects alongside this, including commission-based work, residencies and permanent works—although how this all balances out is very much a work in progress!
A: So far you have undertaken two residencies with Cove Park, the first in 2019 and again this year in 2020. What kept you coming back to this particular event? And can you tell us a little about the works you made for each residency year and what you learned in the process?
K: The two Cove Park residencies were by invitation, through developing new work with sound and visual arts based company, Cryptic Glasgow—who have been so supportive of my work and hosted my sculpture and sound installation Sound Horn at their biannual festival Sonica in Glasgow last year. Both of these residencies were to set time aside to further develop the Sound Horn work, which I’m hoping will be able to tour a little more in the future.
Residencies like this are an absolute godsend—a small period of time to focus on JUST ONE THING AT A TIME, which is honestly the hardest thing to make time for as a freelancer.
But this was the most precious time imaginable, allowing me to work on my technical and audio editing skills and to run the installation in the peace and quiet of the Cove site. Cove is a truly magical place and I have a real soft spot for it. I can speak similarly highly of the Scottish Sculpture Workshop where I have done a couple of similar production type residencies.
Sound Horn—a sound and sculpture installation mentioned above, this installation photographed in the gardens of Pollok House, Glasgow where the work was part of Sonica, a biannual sonic arts festival.
Photographs by Kirstin McEwan.
A: How do you feel the arts in Scotland are seen within the context of the UK art world in general? What has been your experience of the culture of the arts scene in Scotland, on the whole, as a practicing artist?
K: In Scotland the art scene is small! There is so much going on though—I’m constantly learning—but I’m also guilty of not spending enough time outside of my own region. In Dumfries and Galloway we have a wild amount of creative and artistic work going on, so it’s entirely possible to not leave the region very often, although I’ve been working up to increasingly build parts of my career further afield, to spread out a little more.
The central belt—the built up part of Scotland—is a bit more intimidating. Glasgow, Edinburgh and Dundee each have their own distinct communities and art scenes. Working your way into either requires—much like at home I suspect—time, commitment and energy.
A good pal of mine from art school always talked about ‘art karma’ though. Reputations spread fast and a little goodness and kindness goes a long way.
I always think as artists we should be looking out for and supporting other artists as much as we can. The world’s hard enough out there already!
A: Speaking of challenges. How are you and your community being affected by the Covid-19 situation? As we speak it is mid-late March 2020. How has it affected your art practice and work?
K: It’s early days, so it’s really hard to tell. The situation has really only hit home here in the past week and there are mass cancellations everywhere. There is a lot of fear and stress as for many freelancers the amount of work that could be lost puts a lot of people in precarious living situations. We need to look out for each other and be as kind as we can manage. The Stove cafe shut its doors last Thursday and this has been a real emotional moment for us, but it’s important to keep everyone safe and well. We’re hoping to be back soon with a supportive approach, but from a distance… we’ll just have to see how it all develops.
A: Who are the mentors you draw inspiration from for where you're going creatively and professionally?
K: I am inspired by so many artists and creative people! Even just shows that I visit that really stick with me can influence and draw me along a new path for years at a time but many of the people who inspire me the most are those that I have been able to work with or learn from.
At the Stove, the other artists on the curatorial team, Matt Baker, the long term friend and mentor I mentioned above, always has the right advice or perhaps the right question for me at just the right moment. Also Martin O’Neill and Katharine Wheeler. Both are doing incredible work in their own right and as part of the team.
Our region is jam packed full of inspirational artists and I’ve slowly built a network of friends who’s work I love deeply. These are the people who have in the past been so helpful when I’ve gotten stuck or hit uncertainties, producing both technically brilliant as well as beautiful and considered works. To name a few there is artist duo Robbie Coleman and Jo Hodges, composer and musician Stuart Macpherson, filmmaker John Wallace. There are so many more!
Conversation Booth—a pop-up project I initiated at the Stove last year, inviting artists to speak on the High Street about art in public spaces. In the background Sometimes It’s Sunny, hand painted signboard based on collected poetry. All part of the Conversing Building project mentioned above.
Photograph by Kirstin McEwan.
A: What's project you have worked on that really changed things for you? Can you tell us a little about the process of this project and some lessons you learnt?
K: Ahh, so many projects have had huge impacts on how I work - I often take on challenges that I hope to figure out along the way, so with learning at the front of a lot of my decision making, a lot of projects can be quite impactful for me! (I can see some friends rolling their eyes at me already..!)
In 2015, I joined the team for the Environmental Arts Festival Scotland—a summer festival unlike any I’ve ever attended. We organised and supported artists, collectives, geographers, climate experts, horse riders, dowsers, and many, many others besides to come together for a weekend near a castle in a really remote part of our region. There were huge organisational challenges, but ultimately the event was so rewarding in the responses and impacts it had on those who attended. The conversations hosted and ideas exchanged are still percolating in the local - and I hope beyond - arts scene. It did teach me a little more caution in awareness in looking after my own health during projects, managing my time, and being aware of where the breaking points in stress levels are when managing something so large, but I was able to work with some really incredible people, it was an incredible thing.
A: And finally, is there anything else you're doing that you'd like to tell us about?
K: I would have had SO much to tell you about, but unfortunately, almost all of my upcoming projects have been postponed indefinitely, until this covid-19 virus can be figured out. For the past four months I’ve been working on a short term residency in Barrow in Furness, South Cumbria, a curious post-industrial town with a really wonderful community but with some really challenging questions for the future. It’s been a really interesting challenge to start somewhere from scratch and has allowed me to make some really unexpectedly different work my normal—and all the better for it, I hope! The outcomes of this residency are on hold but I’m hoping to be able to share them later in the summer (northern hemisphere).
I’m hoping to be able to announce new locations for the Sound Horn installation; also later in the summer… fingers crossed depending on how long this virus holds out for. In the meantime, I’m planning to use my newly found free time to consolidate some loose ends lying around in my studio and try and make some preparations for how works can continue to grow in an uncertain future.
Epic thanks to Katie for taking the time to chat with me, especially during these crazy times. If you’re curious to know more and keep up with what Katie is up to, you can check out her website and follow her on instagram.
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