Ice Harvest
Jennifer Bastian



The process of cooling and storing beer began and ended in the earth.

Communities came together once a year to cut and store giant blocks of ice in Ice Houses for the coming warm weather. Before refrigeration, this process was necessary to prevent the spoilage of food and drink in everyday life. The beer industry applied this process to their products, lining the numerous caves under the city with ice blocks that would keep the beer safe for drinking all summer long.

My interest in this process is twofold. I appreciate the ecological efficiency of the method of using ice, an element that is formed and dissolves in an endlessly repeating natural pattern. As this ice assists in preserving beer for domestic consumption, it also melts back into the earth and provides sustenance for the plant life growing above.

The harvesting of ice is also a brilliant example of the cyclical nature of community responsibility and growth, where a necessary process becomes symbolic of the passage of the seasons as well as preservation of a community’s foodstuffs. As industry and technology evolved, ice-boxes and refrigeration became a part of everyday life and present in individual homes.

Like many responsibilities relating to food and survival, ice harvesting is no longer a part of every community or individual’s life. We are able to maintain very little connection to the source of our conveniences. My own relationship to food, community and growth is one of choice and convenience. As my perspective on the world shifts, I find myself trying to make small changes in routine. If my faucet is dripping, I collect that water in a pan and use it to water my houseplants. In small ways I am trying to connect to a cycle of responsible actions that directly affects the visible world around me.

For this work, Ice Harvest, I have contracted a local ice company to deliver a block of ice to the building. This ice will be set on bricks, partially immersed in a pile of discarded brick and stone from the building’s walls. Local soil will rest on top of the base of brick and stone, and my houseplants will be nestled into these small mounds. The ice will melt within a matter of hours or days, either watering or drowning the surrounding plants. I will have to monitor and care for both the plants and ice, collecting water in teacups and bowls below, and dispersing it to the farthest plants.

A cycle of melting, absorption, and domestic nurture, this work will change based on the temperature and weather variables of the environment around it. The ability for these plants to survive will ultimately depend on the attention paid to them by the surrounding individuals and community.

from what fate and to what end

“Historical preservation” conjures many di!erent meanings, particularly with regard to the contemporary catch-phrase “neighborhood revitalization.” Gordon Matta Clark addressed associated issues in the 1970’s, performing ‘cuttings’ and film recordings around “objects to be destroyed,”preserving the last moments of a to-be-demolished buildings’ history.

In this project, I will draw on Matta Clark’s influence to create a piece that considers the contemporary condition of demolition,revitalization and preservation issues. My aim is to create a sculptural installation, a mash-up
of historical and contemporary built-spaces that examines decisions made to preserve or destroy, reify or ignore.

- Annushka Gisella Peck


some thoughts in image...

Max Estes: Remembrance / Replacement

(above) Original Blatz Beer bar sign

There was a time when the signs hanging above bars, pharmacies, cafes, restaurants, and bakeries in my neighborhood were made to last. These signs, regardless of the businesses they adorned, were imbued with pomp, personality, and pride. Such lively signage helped define my neighborhood, Milwaukee’s East side.

These ornate signs, like the fabled innocence of yesteryear, have become a thing of the past, replaced with practical plastic and vinyl signs The new sign has a shelf life, dictated by sales cycles, seasons, and fads. No longer do these signs hanging outside my window define my neighborhood.

Just as Milwaukee’s breweries replaced the forests that once lined the shores of Lake Michigan, condos and high rise towers have now replaced them. Conscious of this cycle, I chose to remake a bar sign in the style of yesteryear that acknowledged its mortality. My sign is not made of sheet metal, rivets, glass tubing, and weather resistant paint. My sign is made of plywood, craft glue, and water soluble paint. This sign is an homage to time past, a remake of something that was made to last, but has indelibly been replaced.




(above) remaking an original out of alternate materials

Installation, Saturday, April 26

The first delivery of my plants make it to the gallery...



Holli and Ashley survey the space



Holli's work



Ashley's soon-to-be-covered window



Looking through the almost-doorway





Holli tearing up materials for her installation







The beginnings of stenciling and installation by Brandon and Bill

Tiffany Knopow

My work can be viewed at http://www.tiffanyknopow.com/

I am interested in creating systems to remember things that are overlooked or forgotten. Cataloguing, record keeping, and archiving become important parts of preserving the overlooked items. Methods or recording information practiced by different disciplines (archeology, mathematics, and information technology) become part of my own system of recording.

Eventually, the objects and/or the record of the objects become part of an archive to preserve the item for examination in the future.The work arises out of my own fear of forgetting. By creating multiple systems for the overlooked object to be recorded (installation, print series, website, or collection), I am backing up my memory. At the same time I attempt to create aids for others to understand the overlooked object. Recording the overlooked elevates it to a new importance while at the same time forcing the viewer to look at it. Now the overlooked object becomes the looked at object, the remembered.

Beer Barons & Brewery Workers work in progress

Detail photos of the Beer Barons & Brewery Workers installation drawings in progress.

Jon Horvath

In the summer of 2003, through the process of relocating my grandmother, I came into possession of a number of Blatz Brewery collectibles. I learned that my grandfather had had an allegiance to Blatz because of an Uncle Walter who worked, for a brief period, as a driver for the company. Though my grandmother had never met this uncle, she was aware of his influence on my grandfather, and alluded to a collection of items he had stored away in the basement. One of these items was Walter's daily journal. Fortunately, it survived the move.

I know very little about this individual outside of the few disparate and fragmented writings found within that journal. Many of the writings are no longer legible; either long since faded or overcome by damage through the years. Many pages have been removed. Among the information I have learned is that he celebrated a 34th birthday in April of 1932, he often visited family in Port Washington, Wisconsin, and that his wife, Agnes, apparently years younger, was simply referred to as Mae.

I have attempted to determine precisely what sort of routes Walter may have traveled throughout his tenure at the Blatz Brewery. While many of the supporting documents have either been lost or destroyed as the Blatz name changed hands over the years, there does exist an indicator which persists within our landscape; a neon sign hanging above numerous tavern doors. Using these signs to plot points, I have recreated, revisited and retraced one of Walter's potential routes, observing the same spaces, though now a markedly different landscape.

Accompanying the images are examples of the text found within Walter's journal. I imagine that these were often the thoughts accompanying him on his daily trips through the streets. Perhaps the landscape or something within his visual field triggered these thoughts and compelled him to record them. Now, decades later, I am forced to reconsider these thoughts and whether any true connection can still be had with the landscape at hand. Or whether any connection I may perceive is merely that of my own creation.

Leah Schreiber

For this project, I have collaged images of the Blatz complex blueprints, including a range of years, stages, and viewpoints. Through both digitally generated prints, as well as hand-traced drawing, I present an organic imagined history of the architectural development. I am interested in the concept of mapping as a record of the exchange and transformation of the physical through space and time. My interest in certain materials, such as ink, translucent papers, and collage, informs and effects the development of an image, expressing concepts of reaction, repetition, and reinterpretation, which relates to the important process of tracing in my work. Tracing is a record of the past definition of a route, and a re-experience of a direction. I see it as following a predetermined path in order to find a new understanding. 


Beer Barons and Brewery Workers

A collaborative project between A. Bill Miller and Brandon Bauer

The Project Beer Barons & Brewery Workers creates a dialog across the history of the brewing industry in Milwaukee. Animated portraits of beer barons from the era of the rise of the brewing industry interact with archival text about the 1953 brewery strike, a strike that anticipated the decline of the brewing industry in Milwaukee. The subtle and humorous animated gestures engage both the viewer and the texts shedding light on these important historical events. These two historical points become bookends to a history that is still very much a part of the fabric and character of the city of Milwaukee.

Along with the animations a site-specific drawing in the exhibition space weaves the portraits and texts in an abstract and fragmented way around the installation space. The intertwining of these disparate events within the Blatz building is a physical representation of how these two events are inextricably linked to the history of this building, as well as to the larger history of the Milwaukee brewing industry.

Installation Images

A few shots of installation tests by Madeline McGrath and Jon Horvath:







Ashley and Vijay check some measurements



Madeline begins the process of chipping away her imagery











Jon nails up a few more