CLAVILLAC, New York — It’s no secret that the art world can be a lonely place. Competing with peers for a handful of poorly paid curatorial positions or coveted residency spots, or quietly envying the sold-out booth next to you at an art fair, can leave you with a palpable sense of solitude. Campus, an abandoned high school-turned-art exhibition space shared by six New York City galleries located a few miles southeast of Hudson, offers a solace: a program centered on camaraderie and shared profits.
On Saturday, June 29, hundreds of people (estimated to be over 2,500) packed into the 78,000-square-foot building for the opening of the first untitled exhibition curated by Timo Kappeller. In keeping with the collaborative spirit, part of the space was given to NXTHVN, a Connecticut nonprofit founded by artists Titus Kaphar, Jason Price, and Jonathan Brand, to showcase the work of seven studio fellows selected by curatorial fellows Marquita Flowers and Clare Patrick.
“I think the culture can be very polarizing,” Chiara Repetto, co-owner of Kaufmann Repetto Gallery in Tribeca, told Allergic At the opening ceremony. I will kill you for life In a way—I got in, but you couldn’t.”
“We noticed that the more we worked together, the more it was a win-win situation,” Repetto said. “We could share inventory, and we had nothing to lose.”
In addition to Kaufmann Repetto, other galleries Bortolami, James Cohan, Anton Kern, Andrew Kreps, and Kurimanzutto initially acquired the property as an alternative to the city’s increasingly expensive warehousing options. They were later approached by HBO to temporarily rent the building to film portions of the horror teen drama. pretty Little Liars (2010-2017). But it soon became clear that the most appropriate second act for the former Okawamike school and the nearly twenty acres of grass it occupies would be as a venue for performing arts.
The corridors and classroom walls are painted with Colorful palettes, science labs, libraries and spacious gymnasiums, all in pristine condition, still brimming with morale-boosting energy, the assemblage of works by more than 80 artists creates unexpected dialogues. Rebecca Morris’s quirky canvases blend with architectural Formica and chipboard sculptures Works by Manfred Pernice and photographic fragments of urban life by Talia Chetrit coexist with seductive ceramic caryatids by Francesca DiMattio. Haegue Yang’s spherical sculptures impossibly protrude from blackboards; Miguel Calderón’s “Bestseller” (2009), a 30-minute video that juxtaposes audiobook excerpts with footage of tourists sunbathing with the same novel covering their faces, lures us into the locker room showers.
Outside, the expansive lawn is dotted with sculptures by the likes of Maren Hasinger, Virginia Overton, and Tal R. Some of the sculptures can be seen through classroom windows, and a glimpse of them is as sweet as the taste of recess.
The initiative is in line with other collaborative projects in the New York art world in recent years, such as alternative art fairs Esther and That ’70s Show and the United Shared space In addition to resisting the individualism ingrained in the industry, these projects also draw on the growing solidarity and sustainability movements. For example, Campus’ partners aim to reduce waste by reusing packaging materials, crates and plinths.
“It’s essentially a rejection of monopoly thinking,” said artist Josiah. McElhenney, whose geometric glass sculptures are also on display in the exhibition, added that he welcomed the move away from “purpose-built” museums and galleries towards repurposing spaces.
“The idea of having no theme in the exhibition speaks to the idea of diversity,” McElhenney said. “Each gallery doesn’t have to have a single, unique identity; they can all relate to each other.”
In addition to the warm and friendly feeling, the numbers speak for themselves. Art dealer Stefania Bortolami said seriously, “Our sales team has about 37 people in the six galleries combined” – Some blue-chip companies. “The old practice of true, 100% gallery representation, ‘owning’ artists and protecting them is slowly changing,” Bortolami told Allergic.
Built in 1952 and remodeled in the ’60s, the school has been vacant since the 1990s and has changed hands and prices several times since then. The Columbia County Board of Supervisors bought it in 2008 for $1.5 million, envisioning it as the new home for the Department of Social Services, but the plan was scrapped after protests. Six years later, the late interior designer and art collector Eleanor Ambos bought it for $502,500. A September 2020 real estate listing for the property described it as “perfectly suited to be a fantastic art center or museum,” or as a nursing home or adult care facility. The gallery acquired it from Ambos’ estate in July 2021 for $1.2 million, according to reports. In a recent article about The Campus Local Blog River Town GossipOne critic worried about the “erosion of money and displacement of locals”, while others welcomed the investment in arts and culture.
With Jack Shainman Gallery Located in nearby Kinderhook, the campus was also converted from a high school, but painted white like a more traditional exhibition space, the campus retains the aesthetic of its past, and even the kitschiest elements take on a new charm. The sinuous curves of an old-fashioned drinking fountain, a row of melancholy lockers, and other relics of the building’s past invite visitors to play a game tentatively titled “Contemporary Art, or a Fixture of the American High School of the Past?”
There are also nods and allusions to the romantic backdrop of teenage dreams and disillusionment in the works on display, but they are subtle and sometimes subversive. On the performance stage in the gymnasium, Andrea Bowers’ epic neon installation “Fighting for the Living, Mourn for the Dead” (2024) reminds viewers that “climate change is real,” with beautiful bright green cursive letters that seem to be taken directly from the popular girl’s composition notebook. What looks like a storage room is completely replaced by Eugene Macki’s “Noumena” (2023-24), an absurd installation composed of a pile of wood and cardboard cubes.
Around 5 p.m., the official closing time of the exhibition, curators, friends, puppies, dealers, artists, and toddlers clutching red helium balloons gathered at the entrance and in the hallways, chatting.
“We go to school on Saturday,” said painter John Guzman, a member of NXTHVN who attended the exhibition. “Saturday school is for bad kids.”
