I have been blessed as a painter by having wonderful spaces in which to work, both in the city and in the country. In the city from November to April, for more than the past ten years, I have painted in the studio created by the late Saul Lambert, internationally recognized illustrator and spiritually and physically powerful painter. In the country, from April to November, a painting studio grown out of a sturdy three car garage lifts my mood and inspires me to work every time I step into it. Having a good studio space is really really important. Here are just a few artists' quotations on their connections with their studios:
Bruce Nauman: "I was an artist and I was in the studio, so whatever I was doing in the studio must be art."
Delacroix, the more romantic, describes the studio as: "...the crucible where human genius at the apogee of its development brings back to question not only that which is, but creates anew a fantastic and conventional nature which our weak minds, impotent to harmonize it with existing things, adopt by preference, because the miserable work is our own."
And the more direct and slightly less intimidating words about his studio from a very old abstract expressionist painter: "Don't go in there. I have been making wild passionate love in there for fifty years. It is not pretty."
This year, because of the pandemic, there was not the usual seasonal transfer from country studio to city studio. For the first time since buying our country home in 1986, we decided not to return to the city and to spend the winter in Pine Plains. Because the country studio is not fully insulated and has a concrete floor that holds the cold, I needed another space, a heated space, in which to work.
A room above the metal working shop of the artist and artisan, Tim Jones, became the solution. Tim had been using the room only as a storage space. Once emptied, it became a room large enough for some painting. I brought in some lights and a lot of my painting stuff --- a working studio requires a lot of stuff. I began work there in November and just moved back into my own studio at the end of March. It was a good five months.
Bruce Nauman: "I was an artist and I was in the studio, so whatever I was doing in the studio must be art."
Delacroix, the more romantic, describes the studio as: "...the crucible where human genius at the apogee of its development brings back to question not only that which is, but creates anew a fantastic and conventional nature which our weak minds, impotent to harmonize it with existing things, adopt by preference, because the miserable work is our own."
And the more direct and slightly less intimidating words about his studio from a very old abstract expressionist painter: "Don't go in there. I have been making wild passionate love in there for fifty years. It is not pretty."
This year, because of the pandemic, there was not the usual seasonal transfer from country studio to city studio. For the first time since buying our country home in 1986, we decided not to return to the city and to spend the winter in Pine Plains. Because the country studio is not fully insulated and has a concrete floor that holds the cold, I needed another space, a heated space, in which to work.
A room above the metal working shop of the artist and artisan, Tim Jones, became the solution. Tim had been using the room only as a storage space. Once emptied, it became a room large enough for some painting. I brought in some lights and a lot of my painting stuff --- a working studio requires a lot of stuff. I began work there in November and just moved back into my own studio at the end of March. It was a good five months.
Let me tell you a little about each of these photos that I took before leaving Tim's space.
The space in which I worked is on the second floor of Stissing Design. Tim's working areas are to the left. On the first floor of this section is a display area for Tim's work that is now being transformed into an art gallery for the work of many local artists.
The space in which I worked is on the second floor of Stissing Design. Tim's working areas are to the left. On the first floor of this section is a display area for Tim's work that is now being transformed into an art gallery for the work of many local artists.
This is the entry to my painting space. At the top of the staircase to the second floor, I placed a 'Japanese corner" with calligraphy and local grasses.
Here is where the important stuff happens. I set up my easel to take advantage of the best light available in this space. I made use of the structures already there in the room like this shelf that became home for still life objects.
And these are the other work areas: the work table and the desk, both at a distance and up close, where I did research and took notes on the work.
The next photo shows some of the paintings that happened in this space. They are in a tower that Tim made for the display of paintings, while planning his gallery downstairs.
The studio's textiles. Here are the cloths I use in still life paintings and my much loved French farmer's smock. How could I paint without it?
The view out my only window. In the background, the trees for which Pine Plains is famous. Closer are the compartments of a storage faculty; and in the foreground, some of Tim's sculptures.
Last, but certainly, not least, are the guardians of the studio space. The first is a five foot tall charcoal and chalk drawing that I did of an African ritual object that I have had with me in studios and offices for many many years. We close with Ula who watches over all of my moves in the studio, insuring I always work from my heart as well as mind.
