Is the studio a space, or a state of mind?
It was about this time last year, and in almost identical circumstances, that I was obsessively desperate to be back in my studio. I had work in the Venice Biennale (and I felt that I should be telling the world), and I had some exciting work in progress. I was more prepared this year, and knew what to expect. I would certainly quite like to be in my studio at the moment, there’s no doubt about that, and I am aware that I have been bracing myself for a more profound longing in the near future. This year, since leaving England for a few months, I have had yet more good career news. However, I am now reflecting on how I might be able to turn this isolation from the status quo to some advantage.
I have been considering, in very simplistic terms, what are the differences between this place (and this place could be almost anywhere) and my studio. For all practical purposes, my studio is a space where my I keep my materials and other resources, and where I normally work on a day-to-day basis. I know where everything is.
So, that is what my studio is. In fact it is even simpler than that; apart from a few basics which I could easily replicate, invariably the materials I work with change according to the particular work-in-progress. Therefore I should be able to set up a working space here or anywhere without too much effort. Is there some other kind of intangible connection? Perhaps it is an attitude. What exactly is it, and does it necessarily have to be there? Can I bring it with me?
I came to realise that just by asking the question I have provided my answer. There is nothing ground breaking here, it is simply that I have never given it a second thought. I go to my studio because that is where I have always gone. My studio is just a place of work; what goes on in the studio is in my head. Now that I recognise that, I should be able to work anywhere.
I should add that during my time away from the studio last year I created some of my favourite (and possibly some of my best) pieces of work, and on my return continued working under the cathartic effects.
I just heard the fantastic news that my work has been shortlisted for this year’s John Moore’s Contemporary Painting prize. I’m here, on my own in a field in France, it’s absolutely chucking it down with rain, and I feel GREAT!
I have had a very busy, mixed, few months. Since the beginning of January I have been working almost exclusively on a single piece of work. I took a few weeks out to concentrate on something else, but in essence I was working on it 7 days a week, for three months. It’s finished – woohoo! The ‘something else’ is a work which I submitted for John Moore’s. I’m very pleased to say that it is through to the next stage of judging, and I will be delivering it on Thursday. I’m involved with the 30th Anniversary celebrations of Art Space, and we have a lot of very exciting things coming up, more on that soon. This coming weekend is our Open Studios event. Oh, and I’m off to France again soon.
Since posting I have just received an email to say that I have been selected as this week’s Axis Choice (along with Tim Machin) by the Axis Curatorial Team for ‘Directory’ http://www.axisweb.org/directory
After my lovely Springer was put to sleep I immersed myself in my work and debated whether or not I wanted another dog. The attraction of extra time in the studio was tempting, on the other hand I could already feel myself sliding back into a cycle of work/eat/sleep. Our Jack Russell is old now, and more than happy with a stroll around the block. We got the dogs in the first place because I was spending far too much time in the studio, and the dogs meant that I had to go out to exercise them. The exercise and change of scenery were good for both mind and spirit, not to mention body. There were pros and cons for another dog, but then we became aware of factors beyond our own wishes: Spending time in France means that a Pet Passport is necessary, and the procedure dictates that we must either get a dog very soon, or wait until next Autumn. To cap it all, the Jack Russell was pining for her companion and had stopped eating.
To cut a long story short, we had a ten hour round trip on Sunday to collect our new dog from a Springer Rescue centre.
She is as mad as a bag of snakes, and explosively enthusiastic for absolutely everything. We had a three hour walk this morning, through the parks and then along the beach. She is now fast asleep on the floor next to the desk, occasionally opening an eye to make sure I don’t go anywhere. I’m knackered too, but in a good way.
The last few days have been very mixed. One of my dogs was put to sleep yesterday. She was 14. For such a long time I have been used to having her asleep under my desk or just outside the studio door, and her absence is strange. I miss her terribly.
The sculpture I have been working on is going well. I am glad to have it at the moment – it forces me to concentrate on what I am doing most of the time because it is so different to what I am used to, but it also gives me moments when I can think about my dog.
One of my drawings was used in the new Axis Web leaflet. I had known about it since before christmas but I just received some copies in the post, and it looks great.
Perhaps I should think about getting another dog. Whilst I can rationalise, our remaining dog can’t. She seems confused.
