When artist Ashley Blazer moved from Brooklyn to Austin in 2020, she looked forward to breaking into a less crowded art scene. "I felt like Austin was so much more community-friendly at first," she recalls, "such fresh air compared to the cutthroat New York scene." But she soon found "there is that level of elitism here, too - it can feel tough to get [gallery representation], especially as someone who doesn't have a formal arts education."

In tandem with the city's booming growth, Austin's art scene has expanded in recent years, offering more white-cube galleries than ever while still keeping its DIY ethos. What it doesn't have as much of is a middle option: for emerging artists whose work isn't suited for weekend artisan markets, but who may lack the industry connections to access finer galleries. That's where Quarters comes in - a new arts initiative wherein Blazer found a home for her work.

"There's so much talent in the city, and I have found since I've moved here that the community of artists in Austin is robust," says artist Blazer. "Everybody here is interested genuinely in what you're working on, and they want to collaborate. I feel like there's really kind of a grassroots effort among artists, and this kind of feels like what Quarters is getting at too - to carve out our own spaces."

Billed as a pop-up hosting four three-month residencies a year (hence the name), Quarters is the brainchild of Lindsey Schlatter. Having done creative directing and worked at galleries around town, she found herself searching for "a home with other artists. I really craved that sense of community ... I saw the absolute dire need for so many artists that don't have a space to put their work in."

Quarters' first show launched in July at Civil Goat Coffee, but it's not a typical coffee shop wall art situation. Schlatter keeps an email roster of interested buyers and connects them with artists to build their audience, putting on opening receptions to market the work to the public, and generally providing more formal representation like a brick-and-mortar gallery would. Perhaps the most important difference is her commission - 30% in contrast to the industry standard of 50%. She's humble about what she can offer so far: "I don't have a brick-and-mortar or an insane roster of collectors. As I build that, I didn't feel that it would be appropriate for me to ask for 50%."

In keeping with lowering typical art-world barriers, Schlatter curates the shows on a rolling basis from what she receives at the link in her Instagram bio. "It's never gonna be an off-bat denial," she says. "There's so many artists that have random, different bodies of work, stuff that hasn't been purchased from different collections. [I'm] taking that work, dusting it off, and seeing what could happen if I look through that list of applicants - like, do those kind of share the same concept?"

Still, she holds her shows to a standard. "I want this to be a fine art project," Schlatter explains. "I want it to feel very intentional, conversational work that offers longevity, that is of interest for people that want to purchase it and have it in their home for decades. And on the artist's side, someone who's doing this as a career ... I want to be able to keep that same approach [as DIY gatherings], but just refining it a little bit." As Quarters grows, Schlatter aims to expand the kinds of spaces she uses, "whether it be a space where filmmakers commune, or any type of creative field - where it's the same foot traffic, and we can kind of combine forces."