Soup’s On, with Kate McNamara
Kate McNamara (she/her) is a curator, educator, art administrator, and mother based in Rhode Island. Kate wears many hats: running the East Providence exhibition space ODD-KIN, acting as Executive Director for the nonprofit My Home Court, and teaching at RISD and Sotheby's Institute of Art. We chatted about her journey from the 90s all ages ska scene in Boston to helping issue Warhol Foundation-funded grants via Interlace.
The Well (TW): Hey Kate! Do we have this right, that prior to founding ODD-KIN you were involved with the beloved Brooklyn gallery, Cleopatra’s (RIP)?
Kate McNamara (KM): Yes! I co-founded Cleopatra's in 2008 with Bridget Donahue, Bridget Finn, and Erin Somerville (ig). We were working in galleries and museums and felt like we were not seeing spaces supporting the work, ideas, and artists in our communities—so we all went in on a storefront in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. When I was a part of Cleopatra's, it functioned more as a curatorial hub: we hosted exhibitions, readings, talks, performances, film shoots and music shows in the early years. I then moved to Boston to run Boston University's Art Galleries and shifted out of my role at Cleo's. It was a formative experience and certainly one that has impacted a lot of the ways I have approached exhibition-making and community-building.
TW: So Cleo’s formed right around the economic crash? How’d that work?
KM: It was a really exciting moment to be in the arts—many alternative art spaces that served a range of communities and practices were opening up and that carved out new ways of participating and engaging with artists, writers, filmmakers and musicians. I was working at Participant Inc and later [MoMA] PS1—which was less buttoned up than it is now under MoMA's partnership—and spending a lot of time in the gallery scene blowing up in the Lower East Side.
2008 is a year that really stands out to me. Yes, the economy crashed which was just awful, but it flipped the way access worked in the art world. You had museums who could no longer afford to take on high production exhibitions turning to the immediate communities around them, Blue-Chip galleries taking on museum-quality exhibitions (which you could see for free!), and then all of this commercial space was on pause and freed up—which is why we were able to start Cleopatra's. A slew of other projects and spaces opened up in these empty buildings. It was both a crisis moment, as well as one of momentum, care, and accessibility.
Installation view of Jungil Hong's "The Time Being" at ODD-KIN. On view through July 21, 2024
TW: Having a foot in the door via MoMA PS1 likely helped, too? How did you end up with that gig? What was it like there 15 years ago?
KM: It was my first job out of grad school (The Center for Curatorial Studies at Bard), and I was invited to interview to be a part of the curatorial team at PS1. I remember the interview with great clarity—the notorious founder of the museum was still there, Alanna Heiss, and she asked me inspiring questions like “Do you smoke cigarettes and drink?,” which were apparently qualifications for the gig! PS1 was still wild then—every inch of the building was an opportunity for exhibition-making, including the boiler room and bathrooms. There was not a formal curatorial structure (senior curator, assistant curator, etc), and instead Alanna would select a handful of folks involved in the arts from around the world who would meet once a year and everyone would pitch exhibitions. It was an alcohol-fueled all day affair with yelling, tears and cheers. It was a wonderful and insane place to work and exposed me to so many artists, curators, musicians and writers, but we were all overworked and severely underpaid. I took many odd jobs throughout to supplement my income, like writing press releases for galleries.
TW: This could become a whole other interview re: creative labor exploitation, but for now, let’s leave NYC. Let’s talk about East Providence! Why are you here?
KM: I grew up in Boston and found myself going to Rhode Island throughout my youth for music shows and museum exhibitions. It has always been a hub for creative endeavors and alternative/DIY spaces. My partner Jim Drain (who has moved to Providence 4x!) and I moved to Rhode Island almost 7 years ago from Los Angeles and it has been a welcoming home, community, and source of impactful cultural engagement. Rhode Island is a small but mighty state and through my work, I have had the privilege of getting to know many creative communities and stakeholders within the city at large. As someone who got into the curatorial field via alternative art spaces, Rhode Island has an incredible history of these kinds of spaces and platforms. It has been exciting to find ways to feed into and reimagine what new models of artist support look like today here in Rhode Island.
Above: 2/4 of Cleopatra’s co-founders, Bridget Finn and Kate (left); an early gallery fundraiser flyer (right).
TW: As a music venue, we’re curious to know what shows were you checking out in Boston as a kid?
KM: Boston also had an amazing all-ages scene and as a teen, I went to concerts almost every night of the week. I basically lived at the Middle East and TT the Bears and saw everything from Mr. Lif and Akrobatic, to Dinosaur Jr, Letters to Cleo, The Pixies, Big D and the Kids Table, The Allstonians, etc! I was so thankful to have these spaces as a teen and definitely feel like that this has inspired a lot of my practices today.
TW: Can’t believe you mentioned Mr. Lif and Big D in the same sentence. Proof positive you’re from the Bean. So you’re a curator; what’s an early memory of curating something?
KM: I remember having to present an inspirational figure in 5th grade, and I chose Andy Warhol, who was a household name in the McNamara home. The presentation planning became a collaboration with my mother, who was very invested, and we spent a lot of time buying cans of Campbell's tomato soup and figuring out which Velvet Underground album I should have playing in the background. I don't know if this was the "ah-ha" moment, but it is a formative memory for sure and tapped into early curatorial/context-making skills!
TW: Let’s stay in the McNamara home for a minute; your parents got you into the VU?
KM: I was very lucky to grow up in a household where art was championed. My parents are former New Yorkers and sought out art and culture throughout the city of Boston. They went out of their way to bring my sister and me to museums, dance performances, theater, and music shows. My mom would hold art shows of our childhood work in the kitchen and have "openings." It is no wonder I turned out the way I did! In high school, I took a lot of art classes at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts and had my first taste of what art school might be like. I also grew up going to Maine where my extended family of artists, carpenters, and poets live, which further propelled me into the arts, with a deep consideration for "craft."
TW: And how about going far from home? A memorable trip.
KM: When working at MoMA PS1, I traveled for an exhibition I had worked on at The Garage, a contemporary museum in Moscow run by the wife [Dasha Zhukova] of an oligarch. It was a quick trip and I was mostly stuck inside overseeing the installation of the exhibition, however, I remember meeting a handful of performance artists who had been making work in the 60s and 70s who spoke of the great risks they took to create visibility for politics and advocacy. I do not think The Garage has held an exhibition since Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, and I can't imagine I will be visiting Russia again in my lifetime.
TW: Oligarch-related question: As someone involved in the capital A art market, how do you balance keeping the lights on and getting artists paid (revenue) with the reality that a lot of Blue-Chip galleries, fairs, and museums are funded by highly questionable cash (Sacklers, BlackRock / Geo Group, etc)?
KM: To be clear, ODD-KIN is a curatorial project, not a commercial endeavor. It is neither a commercial gallery—although I am happy to facilitate sales on behalf of the artist—nor is it a non-profit, which means I am unable to support the space through grants. It has been a self-funded project; a bit of an experiment. I have built in a fundraising edition which marks each exhibition and all the proceeds go directly back into the ODD-KIN pot to support programming, pay for installer fees, artist fees, shipping, and a gallery-sitter, etc. I am excited about reimagining a more hybrid model that will actually sustain ODD-KIN and will be spending the summer doing just that.
Regarding questionable sources of income—I think there is a hopeful moment right now in which many museums are being asked to reevaluate how and who they receive funding from, mostly thanks to artist advocacy and protest. Nan Goldin is a prime example of this; her activism around the Sacklers has been powerful.
Above: Kate and family
TW: The concept of a “curatorial project” or “project space” isn’t one all readers might be familiar with. What’s that mean, respect to ODD-KIN?
KM: ODD-KIN focuses on supporting and featuring intergenerational contemporary artists and practices that bridge regional and national scopes. By providing opportunities to reimagine what art can be and do, ODD-KIN plays an important role in expanding the rich creative communities of East/Providence and beyond, nourishing space for critical conversation and community care. It serves as a site for convening and engagement, existing outside of a formal institutional model. As a project space, ODD-KIN is nimble and able to support artist-driven projects and ideas that may not fit within traditional museum or commercial gallery models. This model has allowed me to engage with artists I have been in conversation with for decades or just months, and I am excited about continually reimagining how ODD-KIN can evolve.
TW: OK, so no oligarchs here. More like Kate and Friends.
KM: ODD-KIN represents a culmination of efforts from the last 20 years working in the curatorial field. It has the potential to change, to meet a moment, it also can be a space for rest and mentorship. I love how O-K changes with every project that takes place, and is informed by every person who walks through the door. I am already hatching new programs that I hope will continue to push the idea of "oddkin" in an expansive way!
TW: You’re highly invested in access and equality, but Odd-Kin has pretty limited public hours.
KM: It’s basically a one-woman show, so at the moment Saturday's are the only day with open hours and I also open by appointment if someone cannot make it on a Saturday. If I win the lottery or ODD-KIN's model shifts to accommodate my being able to take off a hat and make more room to open the space, I will do so. At the moment Saturday's are the day I have off from work and my family doesn't mind :)
TW: Perhaps helpful here, there seems to be a rise in the number of grants, residencies, and opportunities available to parent-artists. Have you noticed this / experienced it? Or, how does being a parent impact your own approach?
KM: I have noticed and experienced it and also want more of them! I really appreciate the ways residencies have geared opportunities to families and caretakers—I do think there could be more for curators and writers. So many are long-term time commitments, it would be great to see curatorial residencies that follow a more family-friendly/caretaker model. It’s something I have been thinking a lot about. As a parent who runs a project space it has been really important that the space reflect my life, so openings have been major family affairs: food is available, chalk, bubbles, soccer balls take over the large parking lot. The idea is that intergenerational folks can come see an art show, but actually spend time and hang out. That has been an essential part of ODD-KIN from day one. We just had an opening the other week for Jungil Hong, who is also a parent, and we had over 300 people of all ages hanging out at the gallery for almost 5 hours, it was beautiful!
TW: When not curating, teaching, parenting, etc—what are you getting up to? Or is the plate full enough as is?
KM: Body practice! I have always struggled with "staying in the moment," and wearing many hats; being a parent means time is syrupy, swift, and strange, so intentional movement has always been an important grounding part of my life.
I have also taken up disposing of rat poison boxes found in public spaces thanks to my dear friend, Sheida Soleimani, an amazing artist and advocate for birds. Her incredible work at the Congress of the Birds in RI has shed light on some of the awful ways in which these pest prevention tactics really hurt birds and the larger animal ecosystem (not to mention the rats and mice they’re targeting). As someone who thinks deeply about interspecies relationships and oddkin, I see this as something that ties into some of the work and thinking I’m starting to put towards the project space.
Above: Polanco Courts made by Jordan Seaberry and Joiri Minaya for My Home Court
TW: You are called in many directions. This kinda freelance life can be highly rewarding, but unstable. How are you thinking about finances?
KM: I wear many hats because I love it and I am a general yay-sayer, but also because I need to support myself and my family. All of my jobs contribute to and sustain both my projects and my family’s livelihood. I am acutely aware of financial disparities in the art world and make it a point to address this in all of my classes. I also prioritize equitable compensation for every artist I work within a range of contexts. I feel fortunate to be part of a rich community that values care, which is an invaluable resource in this wild world.
TW: Related to that philosophy is your work with Interlace. How did you get involved; what's been learned through doing this project?
KM: Thanks for asking about Interlace! For those who do not know, Interlace Grant Fund is a Warhol Foundation-funded regional regranting program for visual artists administered by Dirt Palace (shout out to Pippi, Xander, and Jori!). Interlace's Project Grant gives around 4–6k to 8–10 PVD-area artists annually. Artists apply and are then reviewed by an outside jury. Interlace also has a modest monthly Emergency Grant which is meant to respond to emergency needs such as medical expenses, utility shut-off, etc. Interlace also recently started a grant writing mentorship, which I am really excited about.
I got involved with Interlace at the very beginning as a co-administrator. It has been a remarkable project that has broadened opportunities to fund artists in the PVD area in a range of ways. I think it functions to do so many things: creating cohorts of creatives who may not know one another; offering greater visibility to artists who apply for the grant. The outside jury is a very considered group of folks with the idea that Interlace is getting PVD artists in front of curators, artists, and other art administrators nationally; as well as creating opportunities for really creative collaborative projects to take place and flourish in and around PVD. I highly recommend artists apply for a Project grant and I am always happy to support in any way! The project grant opens up this July and there are many info sessions in-person and online! Accessibility is a priority!
TW: Speaking of opportunities and projects...the land area Odd-Kin's located is undergoing major reno. Do you have any insight on the city’s plans?
KM: I don't really have the skinny. I have been in a few meetings with East Providence's Arts Council and it seems like they are enthusiastic about some of the shifts which are making way for more art access, which I see as a positive thing.
TW: You wouldn’t possibly have any free time to be reading, would you? If so, give us some of your must-reads.
KM: Staying with the Trouble by Donna Haraway; How to Install Art as a Feminist by Helen Molesworth (essay); Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler; and also just read the amazing novel Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin.
TW: Thanks for all this, Kate. Let’s roll out the red carpet for you. This camera, that camera—tell the people what you have going on in your life.
KM: I am super excited for the next ODD-KIN show with the RI/NY artists Ryan Cardoso and DJ Chappel (ig)! I first met Ryan and DJ through my work at Interlace, a few years ago when Ryan was an awardee. Ryan is a photographer and DJ is a fashion designer and they often collaborate on each other's projects. This exhibition will be an opportunity for a more intentional collaboration, which will transform the space of ODD-KIN into an installation. Opening September 29th!
