The 106th installment of a series in which artists send in a photo and a description of their workspace. Want to take part? Submit your studio — just check out the submission guidelines.
Editor’s Note: This installment is the final one organized by Philip Hartigan, who first conceived of the idea of A View from the Easel for Hyperallergic. The series will continue, with his kind permission, but we wanted to give a warm thanks to Philip, who has long been part of Hyperallergic. Thanks, Philip!
Andrew Luk, Hong Kong (site)
Considering the property value in the city of Hong Kong, my studio is considered large. This is partially because it was an abandoned puppy mill before I came in and partially because its located in an often overlooked and slightly derelict pocket of industrial buildings that is ebbing its way into gentrification. The objects that make up my sculptural pieces are entirely composed of found debris/artifacts taken from abandoned spaces (some of which are in my area). After every exhibition the pieces are disassembled to be later reinvented into other pieces for the next exhibition. This photo was taken mid-disassembly soon after an open studio event.
Barbara Kolo, Santa Monica, California (site)
My studio has bright California light coming in from three directions. It is not a very big space, but there’s room to set the mood by hanging some of my work and preliminary sketches. Here, I spend long hours listening to the radio and painting surrounded by art books and tools of the trade. When it’s time to reflect, I walk out on the sun deck to the cacti and succulent garden that has a view of the city.
Christine Soccio Romanell, Orange, New Jersey (site)
This studio view shows my three workstations, one for my plexiglass work, one for painting, and one for design work. Having a single space to make work in a variety of media allows my practice to ebb and flow as needed during my workday. My windows face the interior courtyard of Manufacturer’s Village, the original home of Johnson & Johnson over a hundred years ago.
Linda Hollett-Bazouzi, Richmond, Virginia (site)
My studio is part of a large converted elementary school, built in 1916 on top of a hill overlooking the city of Richmond. The ceilings are high, the light is wonderful. The tenants are all working artists. Because the building is available 24/7, I may be the only artist on the floor, or I may be one of many. It is quiet and conducive to long periods of introspective work.
The most important aspect of my studio is my salon corner (to the left), where visitors and clients can sit, visit, and look. My grandparents’ dining room table in front of the windows acts as a desk for computer work, an extra surface when getting ready for a show, or a place to sit and eat. Out of view is an entire wall by the door with shelving for work.
My studio is always clean and ready for work. When I leave it in the evening I am ready for the next day. As I walk in I can immediately see what I need to do, and start right in on it. The plants give me something to greet when I arrive. It’s my refuge and my safe haven.
Chance Murray, Cedar Grove, North Carolina (link)
This is the “Black wall,” which is the first wall that you see when walking into the studio, and it serves as a large and primary easel, with a new set up currently under construction involving old car jacks.
In the image you see a piece called “Big Louise” which is currently in progress, and three small cold gravy pieces. Also in the image is a rolling cart which is a pallet and work surface, part of a kitchen cabinet set salvaged from a job, a brush bin that was once a grain scoop, tool racks made from tobacco sticks, a stack of pie plates that I use for pallets, mannequin arms that a buddy gave me some work scraps, and a grinder/ polisher made from old plumbing parts, angle iron, a wheel rim, and the electric motor from a well pump.
