The Artist's Studio: A Cultural History

Name: The Artist's Studio: A Cultural History
Author: James Hall
ISBN: 1402732597

by James Hall

This book provides a historic perspective of making from ancient times through the Renaissance to the present day. There have been important changes, paradigm shifts in the status of craftsmen and artists, and different understandings of the artist’s role in society over time. The studio is the arena for these developments. And some sort of entrepreneur. There’s beautiful artwork that was created in the Renaissance almost as an entrepreneurial activity. Think of the ateliers of Rembrandt or Rubens and other artists who had what we often refer to as ‘schools’. And that is true to this day, where the studios of prolific artists operate like workshops or even factories employing a number of crafts persons, facilitators, technicians etc. “ The contrast is between that of a medieval guild of producers and the ‘production’ of the eccentric artist, for example, with Warhol and the Factory. ” James writes in such a fluid and easy-to-read manner. Don’t be put off when you see a book like this and think, oh, it’s art historical, as that means it will be dry or stuffy. This is art history at its most eloquently written. He draws examples from many historical epochs, but it’s not a conventional chronological survey. James is able to take us into the workspaces of Dürer in one passage, then Claes Oldenberg in the next, and these may be juxtaposed with observations about the life of an artisan in the twelfth century. There’s a lovely myriad of styles and tastes which makes it really entertaining to read. Taking the studio as his focus, he narrates us through a Western art history. It’s important to acknowledge that the book does have a Western leaning however, and addresses the creative spaces of those artists who belong to a particular story or historical trajectory. That may be the thing that I’m most drawn to, in James’ book and in general. What is the studio? It can be so many things. If I’m honest, the question takes me back to the shop, the workshop, the shed. Jack Whitten’s Woodshed , for example, which we will talk about in a moment. What do we call this space? And what does this space consist of? He shows how in early times this space was always a space for production. Specifically, the production of process, the production of manufacture. Whereas the production of ideas is something that came later. The contrast is between that of a medieval guild of producers and the ‘production’ of the eccentric artist, for example, with Warhol and the Factory. The shop, the factory, the studio – there is a continuity here, from one decade to another, even if the cultural artifacts being created are very different. I remember working with the estate of American sculptor Alexander Calder for an exhibition where I learned that Calder himself called his studio a shop. In the US, a store and shop can mean workshop or worksite. The studio can be the site of production and of commerce, as well as creativity. The semantics of the word and its many interchangeable meanings are really interesting. “There’s an undercurrent here about how does the artist want to be perceived? How do they want to be seen? And architecture can set the stage for answering that question.” Warhol certainly was making an analogy between contemporary art and historical examples and taking it one step further. James Hall tells us in his book that people at this time were retailing from the workshop, from the studio. So, the studio becomes a site of retail. He also talks about Claes Oldenburg calling his studio ‘the shop’, very much in the spirit of Pop Art and its close connection to the commercial and consumerist culture of the day. He represented the store as the ultimate Pop gesture. That was then picked up by the likes of Tracey Emin and Sarah Lucas in the 90s when they created their ‘Shop’ , something like a cross between a studio and a gallery, a store front for their work. That relationship between the artist and the commercial world has always been there, arguably, at least since the Renaissance. We’ll also get on to Jack Whitten and Lee Lozano in a moment because one of the things these artists were reacting to was the commodification of art. That comes across very clearly in their writings.

Recommended by

Debbie Hillyerd

"This book provides a historic perspective of making from ancient times through the Renaissance to the present day. There have been important changes, paradigm shifts in the status of craftsmen and artists, and different understandings of the artist’s role in society over time. The studio is the arena for these developments. And some sort of entrepreneur. There’s beautiful artwork that was created in the Renaissance almost as an entrepreneurial activity. Think of the ateliers of Rembrandt or Rubens and other artists who had what we often refer to as ‘schools’. And that is true to this day, where the studios of prolific artists operate like workshops or even factories employing a number of crafts persons, facilitators, technicians etc. “ The contrast is between that of a medieval guild of producers and the ‘production’ of the eccentric artist, for example, with Warhol and the Factory. ” James writes in such a fluid and easy-to-read manner. Don’t be put off when you see a book like this and think, oh, it’s art historical, as that means it will be dry or stuffy. This is art history at its most eloquently written. He draws examples from many historical epochs, but it’s not a conventional chronological survey. James is able to take us into the workspaces of Dürer in one passage, then Claes Oldenberg in the next, and these may be juxtaposed with observations about the life of an artisan in the twelfth century. There’s a lovely myriad of styles and tastes which makes it really entertaining to read. Taking the studio as his focus, he narrates us through a Western art history. It’s important to acknowledge that the book does have a Western leaning however, and addresses the creative spaces of those artists who belong to a particular story or historical trajectory. That may be the thing that I’m most drawn to, in James’ book and in general. What is the studio? It can be so many things. If I’m honest, the question takes me back to the shop, the workshop, the shed. Jack Whitten’s Woodshed , for example, which we will talk about in a moment. What do we call this space? And what does this space consist of? He shows how in early times this space was always a space for production. Specifically, the production of process, the production of manufacture. Whereas the production of ideas is something that came later. The contrast is between that of a medieval guild of producers and the ‘production’ of the eccentric artist, for example, with Warhol and the Factory. The shop, the factory, the studio – there is a continuity here, from one decade to another, even if the cultural artifacts being created are very different. I remember working with the estate of American sculptor Alexander Calder for an exhibition where I learned that Calder himself called his studio a shop. In the US, a store and shop can mean workshop or worksite. The studio can be the site of production and of commerce, as well as creativity. The semantics of the word and its many interchangeable meanings are really interesting. “There’s an undercurrent here about how does the artist want to be perceived? How do they want to be seen? And architecture can set the stage for answering that question.” Warhol certainly was making an analogy between contemporary art and historical examples and taking it one step further. James Hall tells us in his book that people at this time were retailing from the workshop, from the studio. So, the studio becomes a site of retail. He also talks about Claes Oldenburg calling his studio ‘the shop’, very much in the spirit of Pop Art and its close connection to the commercial and consumerist culture of the day. He represented the store as the ultimate Pop gesture. That was then picked up by the likes of Tracey Emin and Sarah Lucas in the 90s when they created their ‘Shop’ , something like a cross between a studio and a gallery, a store front for their work. That relationship between the artist and the commercial world has always been there, arguably, at least since the Renaissance. We’ll also get on to Jack Whitten and Lee Lozano in a moment because one of the things these artists were reacting to was the commodification of art. That comes across very clearly in their writings."

Artist Studios · fivebooks.com