The First Ten Artist Highlight: Kirsten Leenaars
- 17 hours ago
- 3 min read

Over the past decade, current grantee Kirsten Leenaars has developed projects that prioritize care, trust, and shared authorship, often working with young people navigating questions of identity, belonging, and civic life. Her ongoing collaboration with Milwaukee-based youth culminates in Let the Real World In, a multi-screen video installation that revisits participants as they enter adulthood, reflecting on political agency, responsibility, and the lived complexities of democracy. Let the Real World In is on view from January 23 - May 16 at the Haggerty Museum of Art in Milwaukee.
We had the pleasure of interviewing Kirsten just prior to the installation of her exhibition:
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TFT: Your project Let the Real World In spans nearly a decade of collaboration with the same group of young people and brings together early footage with newly filmed material. How has revisiting this shared history shaped your understanding of authorship, trust, and care—both in how the participants have grown into adulthood and in how your role as an artist has evolved over time?
KL: In 2016, the project began as an experiment for everyone—the kids, the museum, and me. The summer camp structure allowed ideas to emerge from the participants’ own questions and experiences. Seeing themselves projected in the museum, with their names on the wall, was transformative. They felt seen—and they were the ones who wanted to continue.
Over time, that continuity built deep trust. By 2018, the participants understood how their ideas and actions would translate on film. As they grew older, my role shifted toward listening and support. We planned scenes together, and I increasingly stepped back from decision-making. A moment during the 2024 RNC, when a planned protest action was stopped, clarified that this is their story—my responsibility is to hold space, not direct outcomes.
Revisiting the early footage revealed how much joy and play existed alongside serious political concerns. The newer footage, shaped by work, college, and organizing, reflects how much they’ve lived through. What stands out most is the endurance of their friendships—the care, tenderness, and solidarity they continue to offer one another. That continuity, across a turbulent decade, has become one of the most meaningful threads of the work.

TFT: This latest installment centers on a first vote, a moment often framed as symbolic or hopeful, but here it’s also shown as heavy, complex, and uncertain. What did you learn from following the participants through this moment, especially amid the 2024 election and increasing political polarization?
KL: Watching them approach their first vote was incredibly moving. They took the responsibility seriously, while also feeling deeply conflicted by the choices available—particularly around Palestine. They refused blind allegiance to any party and carefully weighed their personal ethics against broader consequences.
They ultimately voted for the candidate they felt would do the least harm, even knowing that candidate might not win. Watching the election results together was painful and retraumatizing, especially given their memories of 2016. What I learned from them was the importance of collective hope—staying committed to a vision of a better world, even when outcomes are devastating. That commitment, they reminded me, is itself a form of resistance.

TFT: Your practice often foregrounds care, listening, and sustained engagement rather than extractive storytelling. What structures—emotional, logistical, or institutional—have been necessary to support this kind of long-term, youth-centered work?
KL: Early on, the support of curator Emilia Layden at the Haggerty Museum of Art was essential. Showing the work there multiple times helped build trust and a sense of shared investment. After 2018, the project continued more organically, sustained by relationships and a community of people willing to support it however they could.
Financial sustainability has been a challenge, and I’m deeply grateful to those who contributed labor, care, and resources far beyond what was compensated. Relationally, I had to navigate what it means to show up consistently—not as a parent or teacher, but as a caring adult presence. Especially during the pandemic, that meant helping with life logistics, not just art-making. For me, documentary work is inseparable from care; collaboration itself is an ethical practice.

TFT: What’s something you are looking forward to in 2026?
KL: I’m excited to fully put this work into the world—first as a 12-channel video installation, and then as a feature-length documentary for festivals. I love that these are two very different storytelling forms emerging from the same material.
I’m also looking forward to a sabbatical in the fall, my first real pause since my son Otis was born. I want time to reflect and let new ideas surface. I’m beginning to think about more personal work around photography, motherhood, family lineage, and my IVF journey. It feels scary and unfamiliar—but after Let the Real World In, it feels like the right moment to turn inward and see what emerges.


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