The studio is where strange magic happens. It’s the conjuring place of new concepts, styles, or forms. Sometimes it even comes to be seen as sacred, a place where visitors become pilgrims to the altar of art. – George Philip Lebourdais
The Abacus, a wonderful creative hub in Cardiff that blossomed from artists being allowed to use an empty building in the city, acted as a gallery, event and project space, rehearsal & recording music space and provided a platform for the grassroots creative community of Cardiff. For about a year and a half, there was somewhere to come together to dream and plan and dance and share ideas and dare to allow them to fly. Unfortunately, the space has now reverted back to a soulless corporate concern, but not before important connections were made to carry the energy onwards. One such was between fellow artist G and I who decided to search for a studio to share and create in. It has taken a while, but we have just moved into a small room in which we can each claim a corner to dream and paint, discuss, inspire each other and make a mess without having to clean it up, or pack stuff away. Bliss!
Although it is small, our studio has a large walk in storage cupboard for canvases and all the paraphernalia artists tend to collect. It has the seeds of community, of feeling part of an inclusive place.
Lee Krasner in her studio – Long Island, New York, 1962.
Joan Miro’s studio
I always think of my female ancestors at times like this, and how they never had this sort of opportunity. I wonder what they might have left behind had they had the chance. As Brigid Delaney says:
Even if there was time to create, women (who lived a century or more ago) wouldn’t have been able to publish or display what they had made. They had no wealth or power. Everything stood in their way: literacy, time, a room in which to write; people to accept, value and nurture their creative gifts; the class system. The fact that they were born women. Were they artistic? I don’t know. And maybe they didn’t know either. If they were, their creativity probably didn’t stand a chance…
It’s as if the world was a piece of music played for so long only in major chords. Now we have discovered we can play in the minor key and the music is so much better. The texture is different and the sound is richer; there are more songs.
All I know is that my maternal grandmother once played the piano, and after she married she stopped as my grandfather hated music. My paternal grandmother had a breakdown for which the suggested remedy by (the male) doctor was to have another baby.
So I’m dedicating my studio space to them, and all the women who longed to have the space to create in, and weren’t able to. May their work live on through me.
“Whether you succeed or not is irrelevant, there is no such thing. Making your unknown known is the important thing.” Georgia O’Keeffe