An Artist’s Perspective: Insights from the Studio
Title: A Glimpse Into the Minds and Spaces of Contemporary Artists
In the realm of visual arts, the workspace of an artist is more than just a physical location—it’s a crucible of creativity, introspection, and intimate engagement with materials and ideas. The series A View From the Easel by Hyperallergic delves into the studio lives of artists, offering readers a uniquely textured perspective on how environment, routine, and material choice shape what eventually appears on the canvas.
In one recent installment, two artists—Tamo Jugeli from Long Island, New York, and an anonymous artist from Utrecht—share insights into their studios, revealing how limitations, light, and personality integrate into the alchemy of art-making.
Tamo Jugeli: Embracing Discomfort for Creative Emergence
Tamo Jugeli, an artist who recently spent three transformative months in a borrowed studio belonging to acclaimed painter Amy Sillman, reflects on the unexpected discoveries that came with stepping into an unfamiliar space. Unlike traditional white-walled studios often associated with meticulous organization, Jugeli found that her new environment refused such conformity.
Accustomed to upright painting and white backdrops, she adapted by working on the floor and letting the character of the space dictate its terms. She describes the studio as “cozy,” and more importantly, imbued with a unique identity: “You don’t just walk in and take it over … you have to mold yourself to it.”
For Jugeli, the breakthrough came not from control but from surrender. The space’s architectural assertiveness forced her to imagine her work in another context—on stark white walls—inviting a meditative distance. Her studio rituals, which include late-day starts and background music or conversations, allow her to access a quieter, more intuitive part of herself. Painting, for her, becomes a meditative trance, made more profound by physical and psychological attunement to the studio’s limits.
When asked about her favorite medium, Jugeli is unequivocal: “Oil paint, always. There is no medium more satisfying or mysterious to me.”
A Veteran of Space: Utrecht Artist’s 17-Year Studio Journey
In contrast to Jugeli’s temporary adaptability, a long-term studio occupant from Utrecht shares a more settled narrative. Having worked in the same space for over 17 years, this artist’s practice is deeply embedded in the rhythms and architecture of the building—an old 1937 school structure now housing multiple artist studios.
Every morning arrives with routine: a cycle ride, a carefully crafted coffee, some early reading, and the ambient tones of piano music that help ease into a state of focus. Their work includes artist books, collages, and letterpress printing on an antique 120-year-old Boston platen press—a tactile process imbued with history and continuity.
Despite physical limitations (space constraints, mainly), the room’s high ceilings and cold northern light create an atmosphere of spacious thought and emotional clarity. The artist describes the studio affectionately as forgotten yet intimate, subtly illuminated and constantly offering a view into the sky—ideal for contemplation.
The community of artists in the building supports casual exchange and camaraderie, but solitude defines the creative pulse. Breaks are filled with neighborhood walks or gallery visits in nearby Utrecht, allowing for a dynamic back-and-forth between internal creation and external inspiration.
A distinct favorite material here? Ink—its fluidity and immediacy aligning well with the artist’s expressive and intimate approach.
The Interplay Between Space and Spirit
What ties these two artistic experiences together is the idea that a studio is far more than four walls and a roof. It’s an incubator for personal transformation, creative struggle, and material experimentation. For Jugeli, the studio is a shifting terrain with demands that shape the artwork in subtle and dramatic ways. For the Utrecht-based artist, consistency and familiarity deepen the connection between place and purpose.
Importantly, both narratives demonstrate how constraints—whether architectural, temporal, or material—can sharpen focus and enrich output. It’s not the size or prestige of a space that defines its impact, but rather how the artist chooses to inhabit it.
A View From the Easel continues to illuminate this intricate relationship between creator and space, inviting us to consider not just what artists make, but how—and where—they make it. It’s a viewpoint that adds dimension to our understanding of art as it appears in galleries and museums, encouraging us to see each piece not only as an object but as a residue of a deeply personal environment.
For those inspired by these stories, Hyperallergic invites submissions from all types of workspaces through their open call—a reminder that every studio, from a New York apartment corner to a European schoolroom, holds a story worth telling.
Read more or share your own studio story by following the submission guide here.