This past year, there was a lot of negative feedback on Justin Vernon’s surprise line-up at the Eaux Claires Music Festival when people felt it didn’t live up to the mystery surrounding it. I was not able to go, but my friend Katie wrote a wonderful op-ed in the Star Tribune that I still think about. She made the point that in criticizing the less-than-star-studded festival line-up that people missed the larger goal: a sense of wonder and delight created by collectively wandering through the woods of Wisconsin, past art installations, families engaging in the surroundings in a new way together, people gathering outside of the city for this unique experience.
“When I experience art in traditional settings like galleries I find myself focusing on the art, but not the space it lives in. Moving the experience of art to a rural setting pushed me outside of my normal realm and instilled in me a sense of wonder.” - Katie Godfrey
Katie previously worked for Wormfarm Institute, which is how I first heard about Fermentation Fest and the Farm/Art DTour in Sauk County, Wisconsin. This is an annual festival, which, according to its website, “is an annual celebration of live culture in all its forms, from dance to yogurt, poetry to sauerkraut.” On even years, it incorporates the DTour, which is a 50-mile route through the truly stunning landscape of Sauk County, an hour or so southeast of Madison. Art installations, performances, and food stands line the route.
We got to see some of the DTour in 2016 on our way to Chicago. This past year, a crew of amazing ladies and I rented an old brick farmhouse near the route and made a weekend out of it. We got lost, separated, and carsick along the way, but in the end, it was worth it. We ate bison burgers at the Touchdown Tavern in Reedsburg, right next to the Boy Scout popcorn stand. A local cheesemaker brought us samples. Cheese curds were had.
We got to stroll the little towns of Sauk County, including North Freedom where Four Elements Apothecary has its headquarters. “I met the owner at the Women’s Herbal Conference once,” one of our posse said, leading us in for tea samples and to test oils and balms, all made from herbs grown on a farm 8 miles south of town. While we were there, another women ran into a former coworker. At the nearby farmstand, we met Jay Salinas; he and his partner Donna Neuwirth started Wormfarm Institute.
All of our group were from small towns in Minnesota and Wisconsin, or living in one currently. Just as magical as the art installations that would crop up was the conversation that happened along the route. We were able to talk politics, lending understanding from our own families perspectives even though we were otherwise on the same page. We discussed farming, as one woman is currently farming and several of us grew up on farms. We shared projects we were working on, from rural economic development initiatives to the planting on a new arts and culture nonprofit.
Some highlights: when the sun came out as we walked up the hill to Ableman’s Gorge, hearing sounds from Peter Krsko’s XLEMXYL as we went. We came into the clearing in the shadow of the jagged stone walls of the gorge to find wondrous thatched structures that looked like bundles of hay drying in a field, but which were made of wood slats hammered together and embedded with PVC tubes. People were wacking the tops of the tubes with plastic flip flops and sending echoes against the walls of the gorge.
Peter Krsto’s XLEMXYL, Ableman’s Gorge
Sarah FitzSimons’ Field Sketches was also a delight. She welded tent poles together to make a 3-D sketch of a farmstead up on a hill. You could walk through the shadow-less masses and see the overcast horizon and orange and yellow trees through the structures. It took me back to my childhood, ripping corn leaves from our fields to make floor plans and “playhouses” in our woods.
Field Sketches, Sarah FitzSimons
The last stop of our day was Birdland by the French artist Frank Feurté. He mounted local bird feathers on bamboo and wicker poles so one was a weather vane, the other a propeller - several of these structures lines a grassy ridge overlooking another valley. The wind was blowing on the hill, and so all the feather poles were blowing in the same direction, with their feather tails spinning and creating a rustling hum. It transported me to my morning run and the synchronicity with which a flock of crows tightened then widened in formation around me faster than I could turn my head.
Birdland by Frank Feurté
Birdland by Frank Feurté
The other highlight of the trip was the cozy Akey Valley farm we stayed at. The 1800s brick farmhouse easily fit seven of us and had delightful plush red carpet, vintage wallpaper, vases of fake flowers on tables meant for quilting and knitting retreats, and a jar of jam waiting as our thank you token. The upstairs bedrooms were chilly and drafty, and we could hear mice in the walls, but even still, it was peaceful and nostalgic of my childhood bed. It was nestled into a beautiful valley and had cows in the back pasture and a cozy kitchen where we camped up most of the time, making food and drinking wine.
Scoping out our neighbors.
Akey Valley Farm
Museum across the road
Akey Valley Farm
The only regrettable part - and perhaps this comes from traveling in mass - was not getting to visit with more folks from Sauk County itself. I found myself wondering what the locals thought of art on their hills and the uptick in traffic, or the increase in spandex-clad bikers. Surely, there was an economic gain for the towns along the route, but I could imagine my farmer father being peeved by cars swinging u-turns left and right when they missed a sign.
I would have loved to have been part of the festivities if I were a kid. There has to be a sense of pride in showing off the beauty of that place to strangers. It’s also exciting to have artists from across the world connected to a place in rural Wisconsin that they in turn can spread the word about. I’m already looking forward to 2020.