Yes, most definitely it’s a view from the studio. It’s just not my studio, as it happens, but that of a wonderful B.C. artist whose home and studio I visited on a daytrip tour to the Sunshine Coast.
The view from my own studio is perhaps not as tourist-worthy, but that’s just as well. About 30 steps from my studio rooms, through my laundry and furnace room, through the open door – and there’s my piece of domestic heaven, for which I’m so grateful.
Officially back from Summer Camp, I’m settling in and mulling general ideas for the new season’s line-up. I suspect that all artists must have a huge attachment to their own workspace, and I’ve considered doing a few pieces on artists’ studios. Consider this studio painted by the artist himself, Kalman Deri, of early 20th century Hungary.
A little tidier, but still resonant, here’s the posthumously reconstructed studio of Renoir.
Thinking about my reconnection with home base, I decided to start with a painting to be titled “Artist in Residence.” Incidentally, I learned from an artist on one of the daytrip art tours that a “residency” is no longer necessarily an honoured, subsidized post. These days, the prize of a dedicated studio in attractive surroundings is something a competition winner might have to pay for!
I started with some quick studies. This one featured my old studio (c. 2010) for which I still have fond memories.
But then I decided to sit on my little front porch, part of my own “residency” set-up, where I can sometimes enjoy a very early morning coffee and a reverie. So why not centre my residency here?
After trying things out with many small drawings, I saw that this could easily get too busy. Rather than showing off my slippers, I zoomed in for a comparative close-up, starting with a preliminary light teal-grey layer.
Something unexpected was already happening around my ear. Yes, I have big ears, but the problem was that the paint just wasn’t handling things in its usual way.
That splotch on the ear couldn’t be corrected. The more I painted over, the worse things got. And then there were distinct unpredictable spots, as if bubbles had burst.
I wrestled with whether to forget the whole thing, but this was a decent quality canvas. What could I cover up when I added my hair?
Not much! But it was at this point, that I had a huge revelation:-- The cause of the unpredictable paint behaviour was in my first layer. I’d thought to use up some aging paint, a professional quality Iridescent White that made a nice optical mix with other colours – but obviously didn’t make a compatible surface blend.
What’s more, I’d been so fixated on the blobs and smears that I hadn’t paid attention to placing the features – and that left eye was not only a miserable blob, but a miserable blob in the wrong place.
As time passed and the month-end came into sight, I made another decision. I wouldn’t scrap this yet, but would play with a stick-on eye and aim for a better placement.
And the outcome is as good as it’s gonna get in this incarnation. (“Artist in Residence,” copyright 2026)
You’ll see this canvas again some day, but it will be collaged and textured with stuff that will stick. Ooh – maybe Summer Camp 2027? Keep your eye on this space.
And savour your own places for reverie, whether “in residence” or beyond. (Thank you for being there, VanDusen Garden).
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