Have you heard of Wormfarm Institute? They’re a group of artists and arts organizers based in Reedsburg, a town of 10,000 an hour northwest of Madison. They’re the people behind Fermentation Fest, if you’ve heard of it, plus an artist residency, and other programs navigating the divide between city and country. Farm/Art Dtour is their most ambitious program, an outdoor exhibition of site-specific art, set in 30 miles of winding road in Sauk County. Visitors are invited to drive or bike the route, see the art, and learn about the area.

This year’s visit was a no-brainer for me. I’m already a level 10 coopmaster and have retrieved the iridium scythe from the cave in Cindersap Forest. I figured I could swing by Sauk County and offer the locals a few pointers.

So I finished watering my crops, delivered a jar of mayonnaise for Mayor Lewis’ birthday, and went to ask Sarah if she had any plans this weekend. She didn’t, which was lucky, because she’s an indispensable helmswoman.

Generally, nonprofit-led art projects make me uneasy, especially ones that take an active role on the creative side. Arts administrators often have egos just as big as the artists themselves, and sometimes have a tendency to overestimate the value of their input. This goes double for arts orgs that see themselves as “representing the community.” In too many cases, they don’t do much more than squeeze themselves between said community and the people handing out money.

I don’t know what goes on behind the scenes at Wormfarm, but from what I saw this past weekend, they have a genuine interest in empowering artists. They’ve done what most art orgs only claim to, pool resources and work on a scale that wouldn’t be possible otherwise.

Maybe it’s just because the work is so spread out, but the event feels huge. I can’t think of anything the MAM or Sculpture Milwaukee has done that compares in grandeur. I wouldn’t say so if it was just the mileage, or just the number of works, but Dtour is so much more than roadside sculpture. Of the forty official stops, fifteen are large-scale artworks, nine are informational Field Notes teaching visitors about the landscape and ecology, while the rest are a mix of historic churches, farms, and vendors selling local art and produce. Some sites are separated by miles of open road but are never so far apart that you worry you’ve left the event. Like a good exhibition designer, they’ve “filled the space” using every square mile of their massive outdoor gallery.

Much of Dtour’s magic happens at 40 miles an hour. Even when you pull onto the shoulder and take time to explore, it’s hard to keep your mind from racing ahead to the next site. I think the best way to capture the momentum of the day is with photos. I’ll post a bunch, so you can scroll through them at top speed, and stop wherever you like.

You can find more information on the artists and their work here.

We drove and looked at art for about four hours, and didn’t even finish the route. It rained shortly after that last photo, though having come all the way from Milwaukee that day, we were grateful to flop down on a hotel mattress. If you’re planning a visit in the future, I’d say give yourself an extra day.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that Dtour is an event about farms. I think even Wormfarm thinks so. But as I sit here writing this, I have to ask myself if I really have a deeper appreciation of “the connection between land and people,” as the organizers say on their website. I suppose I do, but it’s an appreciation through the car window.

To me, Dtour is a show about driving, crossing distance, and the feeling you get when the tiny speck of color on the horizon grows and grows into a barn, a herd of cows, or a composed tangle of painted wood. I enjoyed all of the work, but the real fun was hunting them out, craning your neck around overgrown hills, and staring down the horizon. Though really, the most surefire way to spot the next stop is by the line of parked cars on the shoulder. Early in the day, it may be just two or three. By noon we found dozens.

And yeah, on paper, to a city person especially, that might not sound super appealing. We expect rural places to be natural, more connected to the land than our home blocks. But this is just a cliche. Motor vehicles aren’t foreign to the farm, as evidenced by one of my favorite Dtour works, the Hayrake Ballet, featuring a quarter-hour of synchronized tractors, choreographed by Sarah Butler and performed by local farmers. My favorite moment of the whole day came at the end, when the audience threw flowers to the performers.

The point of Dtour, and of Wormfarm, is not to bring art to places that don’t have it, but to draw our attention to the culture that’s already there. Because, of course, rural spaces are just as constructed as urban ones.

Friday

Saturday