Tim writes: This is my second studio space I've had that was outside of a living space. It's in an old factory in the Old City section of Philadelphia and very raw, perfect for not worrying about paint spatters on the walls or floor. It can be disorienting when someone walks in because there's always a mix of old works and new works in progress scattered around.
Ed writes:Unlike most dedicated artists, I didn't go to art school right away, I found a home in industry. As luck would have it, the company that hired me devoted a certain portion of production to fabricating and/or finishing art work for individuals. Having come from a family of artists and craftsmen, I guess I was genetically predisposed to work in the section of the company which handled artists and their production problems. Needless to say, this industry experience continued my love for art and gave me much of the knowledge I use in my own art today.
After fine art production, I matriculated to the film industry and started a business building props, sets, and special effects. While I was never a film buff, this industry allowed me to experiment with all sorts materials and processes and usually on a grand scale. I would say that my studio is definitely an extension of my early training in industry. My personal pleasure in art comes from the process of construction as much as the finished image, I've designed my studio accordingly.
The work is part of a new series on architecture for 2009. This is a diptych as yet untitled. 4" X 17" X 3" (see detail below). Wood, lead, beeswax and cadmium yellow pigment. The glow between the elements is a natural color flux that happens when the pieces are in close proximity, I want to explore this effect more. The detail shot shows the placement of the cad yellow encaustic paint within the elements.
Studio wall on December 1, 2008, with notes, sketches, sources, paintings
d & G Sketch #67a, digital, size variable, 2008 
�architecture is my 'work' 
Eleanor Farrell lives and works in San Fransisco. She is an artist of a different stripe...El is a graphic artist (disclosure: she's my sister-in-law) and among her many pursuits, works as a book designer, website designer, and is a devotee of Chinese pop culture.I was intrigued by your new blog post, and although I'm not an artist in the more traditional sense, I thought I'd like to contribute something in response. Here's a photo of my workspace -- an alcove inside my studio apartment in San Francisco. Kinda messy: I always seem to have multiple projects going, and I tend to let papers pile up until I get into a recycling mood. But I like having all of my computer tools, research books and finished pieces within handy reach; it feels cozy. The art piece is a logo of sorts for my new Sina blog, focusing on Asian culture and supporting my Chinese language studies. (Sina is one of the largest China entertainment and social web site portals.)
Here is the third installment of the ISBP. This one features Donna Dodson, a sculptor from Jamaica Plain, Mass (or JP to those in the know). I was fortunate to meet Donna this weekend in Boston at Joanne Mattera's Arden Gallery opening. Here is one of Donna's wood sculptures, El Matador. Below is a pic of her studio. On Donna's blog you'll see that she organizes a Sunday morning salon at her studio. Since May 2007, Donna has run Art Salon Boston in her JP studio for artists who work in all media from the Boston area and beyond.
My paintings are begun with the intention that they will be soundly connected to a specific location and time. However, as the images progress from notebook jottings of experience, environment and memory, to more complete pieces, their meanings begin a steady shift from specific reactions to broad allusions. The finished works signify the faulty concepts of security, place and distance and give form to the rituals and obsessions that sprout from these notions. Paul Behnke
Astir Already
Paul Behnke 2008
acrylic on canvas 42 x 42
When You Were Young consists of a group of four paintings. My underwater series captures random specific moments of figures in a pool environment to relate universal themes. Using vibrant color and focused, unexpected compositions, I aim to reveal the inner essence with the purpose of expressing the universal unconscious.
When You Were Young 1
Claudia Waters 2008
18 x 14 oil on linen
I choose random images that create the feeling of being right there in the moment, not necessarily premeditated or manipulated. This image or concept reveals itself in a more arbitrary way to make a compelling, more abstract composition. When You Were Young uses a polytych configuration to elaborate on this randomness. It takes everyday moments in the pool in a way that eludes to our universal life experiences: obviously joy and fun but also buoyancy and resilience in the face of hardships in life. Claudia Waters
"I’ve had plenty of studios (30+ years of them) and this one, built in the unfinished basement of my new home, is a keeper. I never intended to paint the floor, but the guy that helped me with the lighting insisted on the walls, ceiling and floor being white, which I hated. I need to see colors. I tried the white room for about two days (or was it two hours?) and went stark raving mad. I had some left over cans of paint from painting the walls upstairs, so I just went at the floor and a few hours later I felt the studio become livable.Regarding letting people into my studio, I now do it carefully. Years ago a critic came to my studio (I was thrilled) and I am sure she said lots of nice things and helpful things, but all I can remember is a strange statement she made: “My, you have an unusual relationship with yellow!” For years after that when I would pick up the tube of yellow I would hesitate. But that was years ago, and it is no longer a problem, although when I pick up a tube of yellow now I am apt to say, “Well, hello there yellow, you’re looking scrumptious today!”
Bring Hope
2007
28 x 36
Acrylic, wood, cast plastic shapes
Thanks to both Lou and Deborah. Check back in the next few days for the next installment of the ISBP. There is no deadline for this project. I'll continue to post contributions as they come in....pass it on!
I've enjoyed the recent interactive postings on Color Chunks and Thinking About Art, and thought I'd offer a similar opportunity. But before we get to all that, I thought I’d offer the following post to share the genesis of this interactive project.
Some years back, artist Susan York wrote an essay published in the NY Times Magazine about the relationship she had formed with Agnes Martin. At the time, Ms. York was a young artist finding her way. They met for many years for tea or dinner, but the relationship started with a visit by Ms. York to Martin's studio. During that first visit, and just before ushering Susan York into her studio, Agnes Martin made the pronouncement: "Never let anyone into your studio."
To most of us, this idea would seem preposterous; having certain people--other artists, gallery owners, curators, collectors, etc.--come to our studios is something we hope and work for. We want our work to be seen in the cradle of its creation, in its original context, where we have borne it through our blood, sweat and tears, in our most private space, usually away from others and other parts of our lives. A separate space, a room of one's own.
Not too long ago, I had a wonderful opportunity for a studio visit by artist friends Joanne Mattera and Janet Filomeno. After spending time at the
The studio was in full bloom, so to speak, an explosion of stuff everywhere: paintings, wax, paint, tools, materials. I had several series going and every surface was covered. This is not what it would have looked like for a planned visit. I would at least have made room for visitors to walk through without having to worry about knocking into something. I might have put away all but a small sampling of work so visitors would be able to view the paintings in groupings that made sense. Depending on the visitor or the purpose of the visit, I might even have scraped wax off the floor and whitewashed the walls.
So…now for the interactive part: I invite you to send me 2 photos: 1 of your studio or workspace (in jpeg format please) that represents your process or you as an artist, and 1 of your work, with the work labeled by title, medium, size, etc. The images can be accompanied by a 50 word statement if you wish, and the URL to your website or blog. It matters not to me if you work in a full-blown mega-industrial space or at your kitchen table. I’m just interested in seeing what you feel your workspace says about you. I’ll post these over the next month or so. Please email me at pfarrell13@comcast.net
Lacuna (Red Cassandra I & II)
Graphite with Red
Graphite with Green
Graphite with Blue
The work in Vincent Romaniello's exhibit DEEP poses an interesting juxtaposition of earthy, intimate paintings in a rather rarified space. Up through May 18, 2008 at the Philadelphia Art Alliance satellite gallery space at the Rittenhouse Hotel, the work, which is from Romaniello's new group of paintings, the Furrow series, hangs among polished marble walls and floors in a public space outside the hotel's spa and salon and adjacent to a residential wing.
Origin: Identity, Trauma, and Memory
Lacuna, from the Latin lacuna: a cavity, a hollow; a pool, empty space, or missing letters or words in a manuscript; a gap in memory.
As a therapist working with women trauma survivors I became intrigued with the idea of “what’s missing” relative to identity formation and memory. Many survivors’ identities were formed around traumatic experiences and the gaps in those memories.Vague, miasmic clouds of color portent indefinable occurrences. Layers of pigmented wax, once molten, form transparent layers that play against opacity to suggest clarity muddled by uncertainty. Marks beneath layers suggest the unknowable, or that which is only marginally accessible. Blank areas appear vacant—was there something there once, or never anything—or vestiges of the unfathomable?
For most survivors of complex, lifelong trauma, the very origin of their lives began around trauma, neglect, and abuse. Seeking answers and understanding through exploration of who one is and where one came from may mean emergence into pools of shame, pain, confusion. Viewed through the lens of trauma, what is present in a memory can be as painful as imagining what might be obscured or even irretrievable. These paintings seek to honor the struggle with identity, memory and healing.
image left: Lacuna 3 2007 encaustic on panel 24 x 24
image right: Lacuna 7 2007 encaustic on panel 24 x 24
Harborage 2007 oil on panel 30 x 30"
Vestige 2007 oil on panel 30 x 30"
Moral Ground 2007 oil on panel 24 x 24"
Giving Up the Ghost 2007 oil on panel 24 x 24"
Limens 2007 oil on panel 24 x 24"
There There 2007 oil on panel 24 x 24"
