5 Questions – *WESTSTERN

CH When you started *WESTSTERN, what were you reacting to rather than planning for? Was there something in the system that felt off or incomplete?

BK *WESTSTERN wasn't born from a master plan. It started with the conviction that the institutions forming the foundation of our art landscape are too often overlooked by existing funding structures. Ironically, they are also the ones holding that ecosystem together. They support artists, connect people, foster public discourse, and build cultural continuity. If we allow these institutions to disappear, we don't just lose individual organizations—we weaken the entire ecology of contemporary art. I've always admired Kunstvereine because, although many of them operate on a relatively small scale, their impact on cultural fabric is disproportionate. They are often the places where artistic careers begin, where long-term relationships are built, and where contemporary art becomes part of public life. Yet the people behind this work frequently operate under enormous financial and structural pressure. When we announced the *WESTSTERN Prize, it coincided with the announcement of major public funding cuts to the arts. That made it immediately clear that the timing was right. Rather than responding to a single crisis, we wanted to create something that would strengthen institutions over the long term. From the beginning, the idea was never simply to give money away. It was to foster resilience—to create a form of help for self-help that enables institutions to strengthen their own capacities, make independent decisions, and shape their own future.

CH *WESTSTERN seems to operate somewhere between funding, visibility, and positioning. Where do you feel it actually has the most impact?

BK Of course, funding matters. Without stable financial resources, many institutions spend most of their energy simply trying to survive. With the annual *WESTSTERN Award and our magazine, we already try to bring attention to Kunstvereine in North Rhine-Westphalia. It matters to us that this work is visible, because so much of what these institutions do happens quietly, behind the scences, even though it is essential to the cultural fabric. That said, the project is still very young. We are at the beginning of what *WESTSTERN could become, and many ideas are still evolving. What shapes everything so far is a very simple principle: we try to listen carefully / closely. Not in a formal way, but in a way that allows us to really understand what is actually needed on the ground. That often changes our thinking before any concept is even formed. For me, the impact is less about individual outcomes and more about this growing sense of exchange, visibility, and mutual recognition. It’s about bringing institutions into conversation with each other that might otherwise never meet and noticing where something can be strengthened through attention rather than intervention. Perhaps the most important thing we've learned is that recognition is not just symbolic—it is a form of support. Knowing that someone understands your work, values your commitment, and stands alongside you creates confidence and a sense of solidarity. It doesn't replace funding, but it reminds people that they are part of something larger and that they don't have to face these challenges alone.

CH You’re not just supporting individual projects but in entire contexts. What makes working with Kunstvereine interesting for you at that level?

BK For me, it’s really the people. I’ve rarely encountered institutions where so much depends on personal commitment, curiosity, and the willingness to keep things going under often very limited resources. The teams behind Kunstvereine combine a strong sense of idealism with an impressive pragmatism. They find solutions in real time, respond to challenges quickly, and continuously adapt to changing conditions. What makes Kunstvereine particularly special is also their internal structure. The fact that directors are elected by the membership creates a different kind of institution — one that is built on dialogue and accountability rather than hierarchy alone. It produces a working relationship based on equality level between directors, curators, boards, and members, but also a stronger sense of belonging and identification among members themselves, since they are actively involved in shaping the institution. That dimension of co-creation changes what “institution” actually means: less top-down, more collectively driven. At the same time, this is exactly what makes them so important for a place or region over time. Kunstvereine are not just programming institutions — they are part of a local cultural infrastructure. They hold relationships, build continuity, and create points of access to contemporary art that can last beyond individual projects or funding cycles. Because they are deeply rooted in local contexts while remaining open to international discourse, they can translate between different audiences and keep cultural life connected and alive in a very direct way. For me, thinking about them also means thinking about long-term support: not only enabling individual programs, but contributing to the conditions that allow these institutions to remain stable, relevant, and resilient in their specific locations. It’s about strengthening something that already exists but making sure it doesn’t just survive from one project to the next — it should have the ability to develop, evolve, and remain a meaningful part of its local ecosystem.

CH A lot of what Kunstvereine do unfolds over time and isn’t always immediately visible. What kinds of practices or ways of working are you most interested in supporting right now?

BK I'm particularly interested in institutions that are willing to rethink how they work. That includes entrepreneurial thinking—not in a commercial sense, but in the willingness to experiment, build partnerships, and develop new ways of staying relevant and resilient. I'm equally interested in practices that are inclusive, educational, and communityoriented. Kunstvereine have an extraordinary ability to bring different people together, create spaces for dialogue, and make contemporary art accessible without simplifying it. What excites me most are institutions that remain intellectually curious — those that respond thoughtfully to changing realities, surprise their audiences, and continue asking new questions instead of relying on established formulas.

CH The Kunstverein Bielefeld chose to use the €40,000 prize money to revive its Artothek after many years. What did you find interesting about that decision, especially at a moment when so much in the art world is geared toward producing something new?

BK I loved that the decision wasn't about adding something new—it was about giving new life to something that already belonged to the community. The Artothek isn't simply a collection of artworks to borrow. It's a form of social infrastructure. It creates encounters between people and art beyond the conventional exhibition format, and it enables a more personal relationship with artworks. What moved me most was how the accompanying exhibition and public program activated collective memory. It wasn't nostalgic. It became a space where past and present came together, where former visitors returned, new audiences joined, and conversations continued across generations. At a time when the art world often rewards constant production and novelty, this felt like a quietly radical decision. It reminded us that caring for existing cultural infrastructure—and keeping sites of exchange alive—can be just as forward-looking as creating something entirely new.