©Anne M. Connor, Woodland

On Saturday, September 7th, 2024,  Anne M. Connor opened the outdoor photo exhibition and installation, Raised by the Land, of photographs made on land that surrounds her life. She is interested in ideas of HOME and the work answered questions :What does home mean to you? What connects us to place? She realized that she could create an installation on the land that continues to inspire her work, creating pathways of installed photographs to delight and inspire her community.  The event is hosted by the Malcolm Stack Foundation,

Raised by the Land was a unique walking installation that explores Connor’s connection to Wisconsin’s Driftless Area. The exhibition included 20 large-scale images, interactive props, and a hands-on cyanotype workshop. Her photographs were installed along mowed paths (think gallery walk, but through fields and along the woods), appearing on large wooden frames.

Connor’s photographs document her connection to the 160-acres that she stewards for the Malcolm Stack Foundation and the Driftless Area Land Conservancy. Connor started exploring the idea of home over a decade ago, when she was studying photography in Madison. Raised by the Land is the result of years of image-making and investigating, photographically, what home means to each of us, whether “home” is a house, a person, or a place.

©Anne M. Connor, Installation for HOME

“I’ve been managing conservation programs for this property since my dad died [in 2006],” Connor said. “At first I thought my job was to take care of the land, but quickly realized that the land was taking care of us and the many people who spend time here.” Under Connor’s leadership, the Foundation hosts a handful of educational field trips, artist workshops and corporate retreats each year.

Because she likes to connect her shows to a local non-profit, Raised by the Land served as a fundraiser for the Southwestern Wisconsin Community Action Program (SWCAP), which deals with food and housing insecurity.

Connor’s work has been exhibited nationally, internationally and is held in private collections. This is her first outdoor installation.

©Anne M. Connor, The artist and the beginning of the Installation

HOME

 I was raised by the land. Not on it, but of it.

 I was raised by the feel of the undulating ground beneath my feet and the long grasses and massive oaks with their wild wolf branches, exhaling as acorns fall to the ground and sprout saplings in their dappled light.

 I was raised by the smell of dew, prairie fires and the sight of the full moon rising above the pines; by days shaped by birdsong and the soft snow falling after the birds have flown south. I feel the presence of their absence acutely.

 I was raised by fireflies that dot the landscape in midsummer and invite me to play outside late into the evening. Summer’s heat causes me to seek shelter and slow my breathing, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, the stubbornness of late summer breaks and cooler days peek through the grasses in search of fall.

 I was raised by autumn days, with leaves that burst forth in a riot of color, until the fall winds and rains push the leaves to the ground, the Bur Oak’s branches relenting to winter as they do every year.

 I was raised by the land, that miraculous, generous, ruthless land that feeds us and heals us, breaks us open and makes us whole.

 This is what home means to me. What does home mean to you?

 #home #everypicturetellsastory #whatsyourstory

©Anne M. Connor, Installation

©Anne M. Connor, Installing the frames

©Anne M. Connor, Postcard Installation

©Anne M. Connor, Board Installation

©Anne M. Connor, Rebuilding the Nest

Anne M. Connor is a lens-based visual artist based in Ridgeway, Wisconsin. Although she travels extensively, she finds her most authentic work is created on the small farm she shares with her family and a curious menagerie of animals. The land, her family and animals feature prominently in her work and have served as the inspiration for many of her exhibitions, both in the US and abroad. There is a quiet, pastoral quality to Connor’s work that comes from years spent working on the land and with animals.

Connor, who made her living as an essayist and feature writer before turning to photography, views the visual arts as one more way to share stories that evoke feeling, curiosity, and a sense of wonder. She naturally gravitates toward shadows and light and is intrigued by what images can both reveal and conceal.

Connor’s work has been shown throughout the United States and internationally and has been included in exhibits at the Center for Fine Art Photography, A. Smith Gallery, Photo NOLA, the Wichita Falls Museum of Art, Foley Gallery, Photo Place Gallery, Overture Center for the Arts, the Von Liebig Art Center of the Naples Art Association, The Gala Awards and more. You can see her work at AnneConnorPhotography.com and find her on social media at Anne Connor Photography on both Facebook and Instagram.

©Anne M. Connor, Minnie Kicks up her Heels

Tell us about your growing up and what brought you to photography…

I grew up the third of three daughters in Madison, Wisconsin. I was a quiet kid in a family of achievers and spent a lot of time writing stories in quiet spaces, usually about horses. I was obsessed. We could only afford one sport and were a family of golfers so I cleaned a lot of stalls and saddles at our local stable to earn extra rides. I guess you could say my need to be outside and a little bit dusty started at an early age. 😉

My parents were immigrants … my dad from Manchester, England and my mom from Halifax, Nova Scotia and had been very poor. They were making their way in the world and we were expected to be pretty well behaved. Impressions mattered. As a quiet kid, I told my stories through the written word and eventually photography. My sister calls it my insatiable need to tell stories. I find photography to be a calming voice in a noisy world.

©Anne M. Connor, No Chasing the Horses

How did Raised by the Land come about?

I’ve been making photographs about “home” for years, although initially, I didn’t realize they were part of a larger body of work. My husband and I live on 40 acres and I steward an additional 160 for the Malcolm Stack Foundation and the Driftless Area Land Conservancy. Over the years – especially since I took over the stewardship – the land has cared for me as much as I’ve cared for it. Although travels take me to faraway places, this is the space where I feel most at home.

In March 2023, I was in the Utah Museum of Contemporary Art and walked through an exhibition called Heim, which is Norwegian/Germanic for Home. There were probably 10-15 artists and the the work addressed everything from redlining to homelessness and communal living. The exhibition was very physical. Yes, there were photographs but also architectural plans and deconstructed houses. It was very tactile. It was an aha moment. I knew then that I wanted to create an outdoor installation that honored the property I’m restoring and that it had to take place, physically, on this land. I wanted some anchor pieces so designed what later became the stick house. A nest and prototype for “2.2 kids and a white picket fence” followed.

To be honest, I think this project has been in me for a long time. I was just finally ready to make it.

©Anne M. Connor, Whoa

What was the most difficult hurdle to creating this photo experience?

Although this is the most physically challenging exhibition I’ve created, in some ways it was the easiest. Does that make sense? I had my clearest vision of what to do with the artwork and where it needed to be shown.

When I conceived of the idea [to create an outdoor installation, something I’d never done], I sketched out a map of what I thought it could look like. I knew that if it was to be about the land, it had to take place on the land. That took some of the pressure off. I didn’t have to find anyone to represent me. It was just a thing that I was going to do in my community and if people came to see it, great (although I won’t lie. I was delighted that people came to see it.)

The work was physically rigorous. I learned to ask for help. The frames are 8′ tall and weigh close to 100 lbs each. I don’t have woodworking skills so I met with a craftsman and we designed (and re-designed) the frames. They are simple and clean and re-usable, something that was important to me. A handyman built the prototype for the stick house (he doesn’t ask too many questions about my crazy ideas) and I gathered some friends to collect sticks to create the walls. I hosted a nest-building party to create the Empty Nest. I learned to ask for help where I needed i

©Anne M. Connor, Little Cloud

What was the most rewarding part of the exhibition?

This is a hard question. Because I am an idea person, I think I’m most proud of knowing right away that I was going to take this project to from conception to completion and then doing it. It was very rewarding. I had a note on my computer that read, “Just do the next thing.” I knew that I had a lot to learn and that it would take time. I knew that I’d want photos from all seasons, so I set a goal of 16-18 months until I shared it with the public. The weather was a wildcard but we got a beautiful, sunny, cool day, which is the best I could have asked for.

This may sound a little woo-woo, but I think that when an idea offers itself up to you and you know it feels like “home,” we have a responsibility to take that idea to fruition. If the creative world is going to work with you, you’d better say “yes, please” and get it done!

©Anne M. Connor, Migration

Will you mount it again?

This is definitely an ongoing project. My goal is to work for another year or two and expand the story. The look will change and the feel will change; the next one may be a collaboration, and as always, it will be exploration. This was all an experiment and I wasn’t afraid of failing. The only failing would have been not to do the work.

©Anne M. Connor, Lauren

Any takeaways?

Haha, so many takeaways! The first was that when I stay calm and do the work in small pieces, things go much more smoothly. I loved the frames but hadn’t anticipated that birds would, too. When we first put them up, we kept finding bird poop on the frames … something that certainly wasn’t on my list of concerns. I was on a ladder the day before the show, pinning plastic shoppping bags to the tops of the 8′ frames in the rain to keep the birds away.

I also learned to stay flexible. A friend connected me with Bootsy Holler so I could ask questions about building a nest and another challenged me to build a nest that was meaningful in this space. We monitor bluebird nests and those are built of grasses, not sticks, so we went with that design instead of what I originally thought I would build.

My biggest takeaway is that I am so grateful for the mentors, friends and helpers in my life. They helped me maintain a sense of humor and created camaraderie when we were building these structures. Art is often a solo experience. Exhibiting it doesn’t have to be.

#grateful

©Anne M. Connor, Beneath the Oak

©Anne M. Connor, Becoming Alena / girl with chicken

©Anne M. Connor, Blind Faith

©Anne M. Connor, Zoe and Katie run throgh the corn maze at Peck’s

©Anne M. Connor, Corn Hands

©Anne M. Connor, Dreamscape

©Anne M. Connor, Girl Running

©Anne M. Connor, In the Hermitage

©Anne M. Connor, Raised by the land

©Anne M. Connor, Ready for Takeoff

©Anne M. Connor, The Offering

©Anne > Connor, Three Sisters

 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Raised by the Land

Anne M. Connor

Creating a large-scale installation has been one grand experiment. I’ve learned so much, including when to ask for help. Several individuals have been generous with their time, skills, and guidance and I’d like to acknowledge them below.

Mike Larson, a craftsman I met in Ridgeway, was an incredible asset. Mike helped me design, prototype and test the frames. The ones you see in the field are 8 feet tall, 6 feet wide and clean by design. They stand up to all kinds of weather. I’m so grateful for Mike’s deep well of knowledge, talent and hard work.

Kevin Alexander built the frame of the Stick House and the white façade in the spring of 2023. He has gotten good at building things that support my crazy ideas. Drago Milos and I started collecting sticks for the walls and several friends, including Abbie Cesar, helped me create the “walls” that you see here.

I asked Kevin Zimmer of American Players Theatre to build the H-O-M-E letters that you see along the driveway. I wanted an anchor piece and boy did he come through. Grateful.

My friends Hailey Roessler and Mayme Keagy helped me build the nest down by the old oak tree. It was a fun, hot and creative endeavor. These are friends who are always game for an adventure and I value both their friendship and generosity of spirit.

Debby Zimen … where do I begin? Debby is a confidant and friend who has brainstormed with me about this project for the 18 months. She frequently gets talked into modeling (“Can you put on this white dress and walk through that field?”) and helped with install (as did Tim Connor, who prefers to remain anonymous 😉 )

Matt Humphrey manages the Malcolm Stack Foundation and has helped in so many ways. Matt and I collaborate on everything from trail design to logistics. The work he does here is critical to the success of events we hold at the Foundation.

Maggie McCardell, a friend and gardener extraordinaire, is responsible for the beautiful flowerpots scattered throughout the installation. Our friend Sarah Hasselkus nearly lost a fingertip in this endeavor. She is a warrior.

Angela Johnson and I have collaborated on several cyanotype projects this summer and I’m fortunate to have her teaching a cyanotype class outside the Foundation Building today.

And to my artist friends, thank you for your encouragement. I love how we lift each other up and push each other to try new things. This is the greatest thing about being part of an artist community.