studiOmnivorous

Too often in today’s artmaking society, the studio is separate, even deliberately so, from the public.

While I think solitude is a necessity in making most of the time, I have to feel that when the community is too outside of the artmaking process, something gets lost. There’s a sort of mysticism that begins to associate with making work: in particular, a stereotype of the “Art(ist) as Magic” that I find both fascinating…and a little unwarranted. Like the kid’s fairytale of the pink cow who makes strawberry milk, there’s a ton of misperceptions about what it really means (and really takes) to make work in the studio.

…Wait, what? No else had strawberry milk as a kid? You guys missed out.

And if you didn’t go to the Open Studios earlier this month in the Chestnut Square building, you missed out on a great opportunity to get a view of what it really means to be in the studio. Open studios are a great way to demystify the artistic process as well as investigate the thought-process behind the work. I went for a few hours and still didn’t get to see everything, but the people I did get to meet were kind enough to let me take a few images of how their studio works. From the pristine to the in-progress, there’s a wide range of how and what and why, and I can’t wait to go back and see the rest.

In the meantime, as these photos are only the smallest, briefest glimpse into the work, I’d encourage you to head over and get to know a few of these folks.

Dragon Flame Glass
Glassworking has always had the same kind of fascination for me that I used to get from lava: beautiful to see but since it’s far too difficult to resist touching, I’ve always sort of stood at arm’s length. Getting to meet amicable Louis Cage, owner and artist of Dragon Flame Glass, makes it impossible to stay distant for long. What started off as a small discussion on suppliers turned into an impromptu studio tour that covered everything from stained glass to the feasibility of making your own solar panels. I got way too distracted by the jauntily-labeled boxes of scrap glass, but I did manage to catch a shot of the workspace, just as busy and bright as the mind behind it.

Emily Clayton/ Chris Robertson
I first met Emily Clayton through her incredible work with Printervention – the girl can throw a show! – but here’s another example of how a studio tour can completely not just engage your conception of an artist’s work but introduce you to new aspects of it entirely. I wasn’t as familiar with her installative and more sculptural works, so this was a great way to get a moment to see more.

That said, I’m a big fan of putting your influence in your workspace; for myself, not only does it help me absorb and digest influence, but it’s also helpful when people like me come snooping into the studio! It was interesting to balance Emily’s installation work beside her work areas and inspiration wall (which was, might I say, as tight a curation as any of her exhibition projects). I spent a lot of time looking at each, and I’m curious to come back and find out how it all plays together.

Emily shares her studio space with Chris Robertson; unfortunately I couldn’t get a clear photograph of the installation/display works he’s been investigating, so maybe next time we can go together.

Anice Doak / Victor Schmidt
Radiohead’s “Everything in It’s Right Place” is sort of my personal mantra when it comes to material, so seeing the Doak/Schmidt studio take onThings Organized Neatly made me super-happy.

Discovering Anice’s history as a furniture-maker sets the stage for the organization and thoughtfulness that permeates the space: scale model works and experimental constructs take their proper place beside notations and deskspace, and the first room is gloriously and almost completely dedicated to toolspace and fabrication. Keeping my sketchbooks on hand during fabrication helps me capture ideas and document changes, and though I didn’t go poking around too heavily, it’s obvious that the same happens here. You can see more of Anice’s process documentation at her portfolio for a small glimpse of what we saw that night, and a look into the studio and research work that goes into the making of a piece.

We also had a great opportunity to talk a little with Victor about his sculptures, whose delicate organics and directed balance belie their weight in metals and woods. In particular, we got a sneak-peek at a work in progress, getting to hear the skinny on how the piece will fit together in the final visually as well as  how it will come apart for transport and display. I always appreciate hearing a sculptor discuss their medium, and getting the backstage view of a piece like this changes the way you consider possibilities.

From the few moments we had to talk, it’s obvious that possibility and change is a huge part of Victor’s process, as organic as the work itself.

The second room held the more business end of things, and as a final note, I loved the “calendar clothesline” filled with imagery, due dates, and project goals. There’s something really satisfying when the artist’s life and process takes on the same substantial presence as the work they do.

Nona Weatherby
Any bookmaker knows that an unorganized workspace is like trying to find a bookbinding needle in a veritable haystack. Nona’s catalogued and capable workspace, tidy for the open studio night, isn’t far off from her normal work routine.

Making a series of daily drawings during the course of her many trips – excited to talk with me, she fanned out a recent surge from India, each inspired by the patterns, colors, and atmospheres that embraced her – she brings them back into the studio as prints and digital embellishments.

As a mulitfaceted maker, seeing the canvases and works-in-progress beside display works and finished journals might not make much sense until you talk with her more: I learned she often uses the originals from her trip to create the covers for her handbound books. The tiny journals are gems, engaging and thoughtful, much like her workspace.

In addition, she also sets up elaborately curated still lives for her painting work. Not wanting to give any upcoming secrets away, I only took back memories of the really great set-up, but you’ll have to stop in and look.

Robbie Hunsinger
As I learned from our previous exhibition work together, Robbie’s interactive musical/digital compositions and instruments are something to be experienced…and her studio is much the same way!

She and I have talked previously about “falling down the rabbit hole” when it comes to coding: how the intellectual excitement of problem-solving programming can make the hours disappear. Still, there’s something notoriously clean about doing digital work, and so, as a traditional artist myself, it was a pleasure seeing Robbie up to her elbows in clay. Take that, ones and zeros!

Robbie’s studio seems as thoughtfully orchestrated as her musical background, with small harmonies of workspace punctuated with space to move. I couldn’t help but close in on these spaces, but much like her digital pieces, you can’t just see or read about them: you have to be there to get the full effect.

Until the next open, browse her multifaceted, multimedia works for a small taste of how her work performs on many levels.

Patricia Jordan
As a member of Platetone Press, much of Patricia’s work has its background in printing processes, but also now employs a deliciously thick layer of encaustic: her newest topographical explorations of loss are carved and scarred with deliberate marks. Visually, they balance with her older works investigating organic form and organic creation, but here’s an instance where meeting the artist is key to understanding the body of work. Patricia sees two work investigations as separate resolutions, not just in methods of making but in conception, and how she gets to the images took a completely different path. Past work was spontaneous, created by circumstance and the build-up of coincidence, much like the scientific discoveries that influence her visual vocabulary, but hearing about her recent work divulges the intensity of personal research and the impact of factmaking on the artistic process.

Reading her artist statement after discussing her works further balances her level of personal investigation with the intensive process of knowing her own materials. Personally, as an avid note-taker myself, I delighted to see the pages of test colors and paint chips. It’s evidence of the work behind work that I love, and I’m quickly becoming a fan of both areas that Patricia explores.

Dane Carder
Walking into Dane’s studio felt a little like coming into a party at home: partially due to the jealously coveted soaring ceiling spaces and welcoming layout of couches and paint cans, but also mostly due to the personal, loving curation of both made art and objets d’art alike.

While Dane’s studio definitely had the usual touches of a painter, it also held a sort of livable quality that appeals to someone like me (who once slept an entire residency in my studio entirely by choice).

Dane talks about using his work as a way of removing the “us/them” mentality that can take over heavy emotion, and I found the blur between living/welcoming space and workspace as reflecting this philosophy to its very core. Vintage furniture hung out beside bookshelves and influence dioramas, merging into workspace and storage, and the personal touches felt as crafted and worked as the works-in-progress.

Aside from being a gracious host (and I, in an attempt to be an equally gracious guest, did not stuff my face full of the offered brie), Dane treats his finished pieces with the same care and empathy that his space evokes; a brief discussion about surface brings up how he builds custom frames for his masonite pieces to preserve the fragility in the material. Each of the displayed were carefully hung, a whole wall dedicated to expression on a formal level against the casual expression of the space itself.

It’s true that I was also really (really, really, really) jealous of his gorgeous studio location, but the overall effect – work and space alike – is easily remarkably comfortable and yet sophisticated, multilayered and yet subtly vocalized.

On a final note….
Again, these are just a few of the artists at Chestnut Square, and there’s no way to do them justice with just a few words and pictures. A studio open is an opened mind, so go by and visit next time: Chestnut Square is located at 427 Chestnut St. I’ll see you there, Nashville.