Sarah Stolar, San Francisco, California (site)
My studio is a 500 sq. ft. outbuilding about 10 steps away from where I live, making it easy to roll out of bed and be in my studio by 8 am. I have a roll-up door that is usually open, allowing for natural light, a nice breeze, and in-and-out privileges for my studio dog assistants: (from left to right) Gesso, Sharpie, and Leonardo da Vinci. Pictured here is the main work area of my studio, and the space where I am most productive. I also have a dedicated workshop/tool area and a long wall I try to keep clear for working on large-scale projects.
The drawing area (left) is a place of contemplation for me. My collection of colored inks and vast array of mark-making materials are lined up and spread across my tables; being surrounded by these supplies invokes a sense of comfort and slowness in my process. There is a large L-shaped desk with an animation stand on one side (out of frame) and a work table on the other where I can do drawings up to about 22″ x 30” in size. This is my meditative space for exploration and play; a lot of sketchbook work is done here.
Unlike the drawing space, the oil painting “pit” (right) is a space of chaos and insanity. Everything on this side of the room is messy, oily, sticky, and no surface or clothing are safe. I have at least three huge palettes going on at once — a 4′ x 6’ table with a mirror on top, a 3′ x 3’ window frame, and a rolling table with glass attached. I use an old champagne bucket for my paint thinner, there are no tops on my paint tubes, and cat food cans filled with random colors clutter the tables. One of my easels and most of my palette knives, scrapers, and medium jars I have had for over 20 years and they are crusted with layers of paint. I cherish these objects as a record of my life as a painter.
Kristine Schomaker, Los Angeles, California (site)
My live/work studio is part of a 100-year-old building that used to make gumball machines in the Brewery Arts Community. While I love the openness of my space, I split it between bedroom, office, library, living area and studio. I love how I can wake up in the morning and start working without having to drive anywhere. The way I work, I have to let the paint dry for hours at a time before starting a new layer. So it works particularly well having my studio in my home.
Peter Yumi, Denver, Colorado (link)
This is my studio, which is in the basement of my home. I work in ten hours a day or more. I make papier maché sculptures which are then photographed, after which I work the printed photos into my collage process. It’s really messy. I mix flour with Elmer’s glue and hot water to make my own super strong glue. I love working and often forget to clean. This photo shows the studio a little cleaner than it normally is.
Meg Pierce, Sarasota, Florida (site)
When I left the New York area I left so much that I loved. But in Florida I found the light and space I was missing in those basements or converted industrial spaces I used for studios. I work with vintage fabrics, pins, and other delicate found objects. My clean, organized, clean and neat studio looks out at palm trees, blue skies and sun. I can move the furniture and storage and show the work during our monthly Art Walk, with all the intricate detail visible and above ground!
Wini Brewer, Los Angeles, California (site)
Lewis’s tattered canvases and pasted over drawings mirror a world in need of constant upkeep and repair.
Seeing the Toronto Biennial of Art through my daughter’s eyes helped me push past some of its challenges by experiencing it on a primordial level.
Who says tragedy has to be tragic? Co-presented with National Black Theatre, this fresh, Pulitzer-winning take on a classic centers Black joy and liberation.
With its titular blend of Western culture and Asian ethnicity, Tyrus Wong’s “Chinese Jesus” painting embodies Asian American identity.
Prehistoric Planet is visually ambitious, but the docuseries often fails to contextualize those visuals for the curious viewer.
For the triennial’s eighth edition, work by more than 70 artists is featured in 12 exhibitions and a polyphonic program, installed at various locations throughout the German city.
Imelda Marcos and her husband were accused of plundering billions of dollars from the country.
Probably not, but it sure looks like one.
This exhibition explores the work and short-but-impactful life of the groundbreaking ceramic artist. Now on view at the New Orleans Museum of Art.
I won’t bother you with talk about how obscenely decadent and out of touch the Frieze art fair is. And yet…
Curators Tahnee Ahtone, La Tanya S. Autry, Frederica Simmons, Dan Cameron, and Jeremy Dennis offered the public a window into their curatorial processes through the work they produced during their fellowships.
As part of Hyperallergic’s Emily Hall Tremaine Journalism Fellowship for Curators, Jeremy Dennis presents an exhibition to offer insight into his curatorial process.