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A View From the Easel

“I'm constantly singing to my tapestries.”

Lakshmi Rivera Amin

January 15, 2026 — 5 min read

Welcome to the 320th installment of A View From the Easel, a series in which artists reflect on their workspace. This week, artists find sanctuary in a studio blanketed with yarn and use their bodies as a canvas.

Want to take part? Check out our submission guidelines and share a bit about your studio with us through this form! All mediums and workspaces are welcome, including your home studio.

Natacha Voliakovsky, Washington Heights, Manhattan

How long have you been working in this space?

One year.

Describe an average day in your studio.

I don’t really have an “average” day in the studio. My routine changes a lot depending on the project I’m working on. Some days I can spend hours editing performance photos or jumping between several drawings at once. Other days I’m in different studios rehearsing for a new performance, or on long Zoom calls with doctors talking through specific medical and technical aspects of the work. There are also days when I mostly fill my notebooks with loose ideas for future pieces. Most of the time I work in silence — I like to hear my own thoughts and stay close to what my body is doing. When I’m drawing, I’m sometimes on the phone with a friend, and we talk about our lives, distance, and how much we miss home.

How does the space affect your work?

The space gives me a kind of calm that I really need. Some days it’s a living chaos, and other days the space shifts and becomes very orderly, especially when I’m doing archival work and spend hours organizing documents, images, or performance records. It’s also a place where I can receive people: colleagues, friends, collaborators. When they come, the atmosphere changes completely. The studio stops being just my own mental-body bunker and becomes a space of exchange, where we talk, plan, and question things together.

How do you interact with the environment outside your studio?

Right outside my studio there is a large, beautiful cemetery that I can see from the window. I go there quite often; it’s very quiet, and it has become my break from work — a place to walk, sit, and draw while looking at the trees, or bring a book to read.

What do you love about your studio?

That one wall painted in deep sanguine red. I’d wanted that color for years, and finally having it there feels very right. When I’m in front of that wall, I feel more awake, more charged; the color gives me energy in a way a white cube never could. It feels less like a neutral showroom and more like a space made for a living body to think and work in.

What do you wish were different?

I often work in different cities and countries for performances, talks, and exhibitions, and I wish I could travel with my studio. Every time I have to work somewhere else, unless it’s a residency set up for production, I really miss the calm and familiarity of this space. If I could change something, it would be that: to find a way for this studio, or at least its atmosphere, to come with me.

What is your favorite local museum?

Definitely MoMA PS1. There’s always something happening there.

What is your favorite art material to work with?

My body.

Traci Johnson, Brooklyn, New York

How long have you been working in this space?

Six years.

Describe an average day in your studio.

I'm not a morning person, so I usually get to my studio around 1pm or 2pm. My routine goes as follows: I make sure to get an iced coffee, preferably a double shot of espresso with oat milk, and then head to the studio. I open my laptop, respond to emails, check for applications, maybe do some writing if I'm in the mood, then figure out how to further whichever piece I'm working on. Sometimes I take little breaks. I used to fill them with TikTok scrolls, but now they consist of reading books, usually about exhibitions I've missed either because I wasn't alive or they weren't in NYC.

I usually only work on one piece at a time. I think that when I work on multiple projects at once, the work tends to bleed into one another, and realistically, I want my works to evolve from each piece I do, though I'm usually working on different applications at the same time. I do listen to music while I work, and I'm constantly singing to my tapestries too, embedding the energy within them that people often feel.

How does the space affect your work?

My space is a direct reflection of my work and vice versa. I create Safe Space immersive installations for people to heal in and imagine their own version of utopia. This is the same for my studio, the original Safe Space. I am constantly being coddled by my studio, as it is lined with pink faux fur. My space allows for my work to flourish and for it to guide the progression of my pieces, to aid in the harmony between myself, the piece, and the space.

How do you interact with the environment outside your studio?

Outside my building, there are a plethora of restaurants and coffee shops. My favorite activity is walking from home to my studio with my dog. I get to enjoy the sunshine and see all of my studio's neighborhood come to life. My studio is actually within Arts Gowanus, so the community is deeply rooted in my studio life, whether it's going to shows or events. Art is always at the forefront. I'm also pretty lucky that there's a gallery within my studio building, so I always get to see new shows each month from my studio mates. I love that because I genuinely get to know what everyone is making in their studios.

What do you love about your studio?

I love that my studio is the ultimate Safe Space. I get to work in here, play, cry, and sing. My space is very welcoming; it is a portal to my sanctuary, where I have autonomy over every aspect of creation.