Julie Caniglia [2]Walker Art Center [3] director Kathy Halbreich [4] might be the most admired museum director in America,” wrote Tyler Green [5] last year on his influential Modern Art Notes [6] blog. He quoted some of Halbreich’s museum-director colleagues, one of whom said “I watch her from afar, kind of like a guru,” and another who said “Kathy is the model. She’s done incredible things.”

Nevertheless, all incredible things must come to an end. After nearly seventeen years at the Walker, Halbreich will leave her post November 1. Her selection back in 1991 was seen as a radical, even shocking departure from the style of Martin Friedman, who’d been at the helm of the museum for more than three decades. But the Walker’s newest director—Olga Viso [9], who’s stepping down as director at the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden [10] in Washington, D.C. to come to the Twin Cities—has quite a bit in common with her soon-to-be predecessor. That would seem to be a strong testament to all Halbreich achieved.

When you announced your departure last spring, you mentioned having taken a sabbatical the previous fall. What happened during that time?
Professional life is just moving faster and faster, and the responsibilities don’t diminish. I had this remarkable luxury to take three months off. It reminded me how hard it is to program your own days when you’re used to being programmed by the job. I spent some time at a friend’s cabin on Martha’s Vineyard, and this place is magic ... I began to return to a very sensory kind of living.

I also went to New York. I wanted to see if I could really look at art, particularly young art, again. I saw about eighty exhibitions and came to the conclusion that I still had this lust for looking, and that was actually quite gratifying. I also at the same time was returning to a certain life. I grew up in New York ... I actually was beginning to have a personal life, which has been very prescribed here [in the Twin Cities].

I’ve always been inspired by the fact that you went to a liberal arts college, but did not go on to earn an advanced degree. Do you think there’s an over-emphasis on graduate education in the arts?
Look, now you’re supposed to have MBAs to run these places. Anything you can do to develop your talent pool is worth doing. But there’s just plain old experience, and the fact that I have worked since I was thirteen has served me well. I’m envious of those who’ve had more education, but I’ve had a longer time to play in various jobs.

Since 1991, when you started at the Walker, what’s changed at that institution and in the larger museum world?
We have become bigger, and yes, that’s better, but there’s also peril to it. Bigger institutions require more resources. More resources require greater complexity. And what’s really remarkable about Walker in all of this is that it’s kept its soul.

Another change has to do with being a multidisciplinary institution. The film/video and performing arts departments have been here since the ’70s, but I was able to create greater equality among the disciplines. And you’re going to see more of that. Now the Whitney [11] is building a new building and they want it to include a theater. You look at the Guggenheim’s [12] plans for whatever building they’re going to build and it’s ... Walker. You have Wexner [13] [Center for the Arts, in Columbus, Ohio] calling themselves “Baby Walker.” We just followed the artists sooner to this model.

You said a few years ago that “we are realizing there are more creative giants operating across the globe than we were ever aware of before.” Who, or what, are we missing?
The world is much smaller than when I began. The collection at Walker then was basically Euro-Canadian-U.S. It can’t be that anymore. With Hélio Oiticica [14], we were the only museum in the U.S. to show his retrospective in 1994; people thought I was absolutely crazy. But he is going to be considered one of the most important artists of the twentieth century. This country just didn’t understand because they didn’t know.

What are the powerful countries of the future? Brazil, China, India. Brazil is an enormously fertile ground—that country and Japan have the longest history of really modern art, and the most interesting. China’s later, and India I would say even later still. But these places now are extremely alive.

You’ve also said you don’t believe there are blockbuster names in the contemporary art world. What does that mean for the future of art, artists, exhibitions—for getting bodies into galleries?
That’s a very complex and good question. It starts first with very serious questions about expectations, about what numbers mean and what they signify. Is it good enough for Walker to be one of the top five or six museums for modern or contemporary art, in terms of attendance? Those who get more are MoMA [15], the Hirshhorn, SFMoMA [16], the Whitney, and the Guggenheim. And that leaves out contemporary institutions in much bigger cities—L.A., Chicago, Philadelphia, Houston—that have much smaller numbers than Walker’s. Is that good? I don’t know. Should we have more people than the Minneapolis Institute of Arts [17]? Is that better?

How does the art market, when it’s in a superheated cycle as it is now, affect the Walker?
It’s huge. The market is accelerating at such a rate that an artist who’s fairly unknown one year is at the top of the heap two years later.

Our mission has to be to stay ahead of the market. Not only is that the only way we can afford to buy things, but it’s also, if you want to talk in business terms, where we can develop product that nobody else has the wherewithal—intellectual or financial or in terms of mission—to do. And we can sell that product, because everybody needs it occasionally. Also, others do vanilla so much better than we do.

So does the Walker influence the art market?
We have been said to be influencing the market, and there’s very little we can do about that. But there’s no doubt about it, with the Arte Povera exhibition we shot ourselves in the foot. We’d been collecting that work rigorously; we can’t afford it anymore. We did all the research for everybody. That’s the way it is. And it was instant.

How do you respond to criticism about the Walker’s addition—particularly charges that it has a confusing layout?
We built it as a kind of little medieval city, where there were plazas, small spaces, big spaces—and we also built it this way because we really believed that this century was about networks as opposed to linear progress. I’m kind of shocked at this criticism because in a funny way the circulation is the most brilliant aspect. It’s really just a big circle, or lozenge. And I wish some people who criticize it would just relax and, if you will, go with the flow. And they’ll find surprises.

Does this go back to what you said about life getting faster? People want to get in, see what they came to see, and get out?
We really wanted to go counter to that. We wanted to slow people down. I think it’s confusing the first time you come. I wonder if it’s confusing the third time you come. Do I think it’s 150 percent successful? Nope. It’s like making a work of art, it was very pushed on some boundaries. But I have no doubt that the ideas that were embedded in this building are going to become ubiquitous ... others will do it better. They should.

What have you come to love about the Twin Cities in your time here?
This is a manageable city, but for its size it’s remarkably rich in resources—natural, cultural, educational. My kid went to public schools and got an incredible education and that’s a minor miracle in some places.

I love this city because it made Walker possible. Why isn’t Walker in New York or L.A.? Maybe because the market is less discernible here, and there is a greater civic engagement, and there is somehow, in its own moderate way, greater tolerance for innovation and risk-taking. Minnesotans not only permit, but support this sense of innovation, whether it’s Medtronic or Walker.

Nothing gives me greater pleasure than the farmer’s market. I have loved watching how it has changed in terms of the produce that’s available from different cultures. When I came here it was a much more homogenous place. There is more discussion across ethnic lines and that has made for a healthier place.

What are your pet peeves about this place?
I am quite political, and this is purely personal, it has nothing to do with my professional life—but I worry that we’re a purple state. What happened?

Will you move back to New York?
Probably. It’s hard for a new museum director to have an old director in his or her backyard.

You trained as an artist. If you were to make art again, which medium would you use?
I wouldn’t return to it today. I’ve learned better.

What is your dream job that does not involve art?
For a while I thought it would be really wonderful to run the farmer’s market. Some days I’ve thought it would be fun to give away money, but I’m less interested in that than I thought I was ... but this transition time has been extremely useful because I’ve had the liberty of thinking and I came to the conclusion that while I didn’t want to be a museum director anymore, I love art and love being around artists. I love bringing some structure to how people can look at art and find meaning. So I hope to be able to use my talents in those ways. Any specific ways you might mention?
Nope. There’s nothing to announce.

You’ve called yourself a control freak and are known to work crazy hours. Leisure time?
I’m reading an Amos Oz [20] memoir, rereading Hilton Als’s The Women [21]. I am an obsessive newspaper reader. And I’ve restarted yoga classes. I go to the farmer’s market and I’m cooking a lot and I’m arranging flowers and now I’m a lady of some leisure. But I haven’t started to drink at lunch. Yet.