Shaun Marrow, Rehoboth, Massachussetts (site)
I am a father, I was a singular entity that could paint 18 hours a day. My 4 year old now makes me cut down on the time of process, but she also is allowed to come in and ‘help.’ She definitely does. She helps lay new lines in layered oil paintings, more information and freedom than I could ever produce. I paint with her in our basement, the boiler room also. I am a history/journalist painter, I cull information for new paintings from all media sources I can get my hands on, and this leads to an intense and slow layering process of painting the daily headlines, as they are all related to the human conditions of hope and suffering, love and death.
Anne-Marie Giroux, Montreal, Canada (site)
A double room in an apartment somewhere in the neighborhood of La Petite-Patrie.
My paintings, my brushes and sketches.
Some tables, my tools, few disparate, and precious objects.
A computer, a printer, a guitar.
And especially my cat Koshka.
Mark Flowers, Alexander, North Carolina (site)
This is my studio in Alexander, just north of Asheville. This is my Starship Enterprise. My captain’s seat is an over-stuffed red chair where I command my fleet of images. The studio is my refuge, the place where I am in charge, and where I can hide. This space has taken me almost a lifetime to realize. I leave teaching full time in a year to be in the studio. Here I will do my best work.
Daniel Fleming, Milwaukee, Wisconsin (site)
Through the last few years I’ve worked out of my living room, by girlfriend’s couch, a professional design studio, and large store-front cooperative, and while those all have had their positives, I’ve never found as nice a studio as my new extra-bedroom. It’s simple. It’s on-hand. It’s honest.
My work is always at hand for a serious viewing. It’s always around me so I can’t ignore the work I don’t like. It’s always reminding me of my successes, while also making sure I realize the long way I have to go (and have already come). My supplies are always a few feet away in case inspiration strikes, and my library of books is equally at hand for those times you just don’t know what to do. I can take a break, turn on the tube and grab a beer out of the fridge, or keep the lights on and doors locked for an all-nighter. It’s a constant source of inspiration and a constantly shifting measure of success.
When a client comes in, they know they are meeting me, in my element, talking about the work I love doing. It’s all over the walls of my apartment, it’s plastering the walls of the studio and piled along the edges of the room, it’s shown openly throughout all stages of completion, giving the client an uncensored view at my work and how it comes to be. They see the real artist and not a manufactured, user-friendly personality. The studio isn’t flashy or pristine but neither is my work, and I think that’s part of the beauty.
Claire Scherzinger, Toronto, Canada (site)
My studio is in a giant warehouse where people operate small businesses, design firms. There is even a theatre. It’s all in a part of the city where the art scene has migrated to over the last couple of years. I live five minutes away by bike and I often just sit in my studio before I begin working just to cool down and think about the day and what I’m going to do next.
I have a table for working on my small drawings and a lot of wall space to work on drawings of a larger scale, as well as my paintings. I’m not the tidiest person in the world and I think this photo really reflects the sort of flux I usually feel when I first walk in the door. Only recently did I get a coffee maker for longer night-working sessions and I’m still working on getting a couch.
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