Frayed Edges
Lack of access to studio and working space because of the coronavirus pandemic affects more than just the production of objects.
One of the highlights of my job over the years is to walk along the Craft & Design corridor at Harbourfront Centre. I enjoy popping into the studios and chatting with the artists to see how they are, see what they’re working on. It’s a connection I value.
Rob Raeside and Reid Ferguston in the Glass Studio at Harbourfront Centre.
Then, on March 16, 2020 amidst a global pandemic, that substantial connection was broken, and the studios were emptied and artists sent home. Physical distancing, uncertainty, unprecedented, precarious, force majeure, CERB, Zoom and “I-don’t-know” became the words, the phrases and the preoccupations of many. Working-from-home began to trend and anxiety spiked.
If you are a contemporary craft and design artist, working from home is not really a possibility. A glass furnace doesn’t transfer to your living room; you can’t fire ceramics in your oven; jewellery torches and compressed gas in a shared apartment are a no-go; and looms take up a great deal of space.
Craft and design artists who explore the intersections between making, culture and material investigation occupy an analogue world – a very touchy-feely world. Their processes don’t always relocate seamlessly to the digital or virtual realm. Specialized equipment and space are fundamental. Fluency and intention while using their bodies to manipulate materials are a hallmark of process.
““Craft and design artists who explore the intersections between making, culture and material investigation occupy an analogue world – a very touchy-feely world.””
Rob Raeside Exhibition Array at Harbourfront Centre
The loss brings on sadness, frustration and anxiety, and no matter how much bread you knead or cookies you bake, it can’t fill the void. Artists are already in a precarious profession and the loss of studio spaces, exhibitions, income, and peer interaction is overwhelming. The ways in which artists are handling these losses runs the gamut. Some can pivot because they have a home studio, most quickly signed up for CERB and other relief funding, and many pace the floor and fret.
The digital bombardment of virtual “everything” – exhibitions, studio visits, activations, forums, surveys, etc. can be mind-numbing. The desire for physical engagement with art, objects, and people is an ever-present ache. The reality of isolation is a daily struggle.
““The pressure to remain positive and productive is an additional burden.””
April Martin in the Ceramics Studio at Harbourfront Centre
The pressure to remain positive and productive is an additional burden. Edges are being frayed. This imposed hiatus can indeed be a time for thinking, research, and reflection – and that is happening, but maintaining focus and drive in the current environment can be a huge challenge.
Some artists and designers have pivoted to making masks, while others with access to equipment and material 3D-print visor components for frontline workers, which is truly inspiring.
No one is doing it right or perfect, and all are doing the best they can.
On any given day, the public gets a very unique behind-the-scenes experience as they witness the goings-on in the Craft & Design Studio. This is one of the great things about our program—we don’t exist behind closed doors. The corridor is open and inviting. Folks stand and watch transfixed, ask questions, ooh and aah—particularly at the Glass Studio—and take photos.
Shelbey Dodds in the Jewellery Studio at Harbourfront Centre
We can certainly post videos online and translate some of the same experiences digitally, but I can’t help but think that a crucial, visceral experience is lost. You can’t feel the heat from a glass kiln through a computer screen.
Access to studio space is essential for artists. It goes beyond just equipment and walls. Artists cross that very special threshold into an environment most conducive to making, thinking, and maximum creation. Studios designed for artists, personalized by artists and enlivened by artists, are vital and precious places that must be safeguarded. This is what occupies my mind.
Like I do most days, I am listening to PM Trudeau on CBC Radio while I write this. He just emphasized the words “tremendous uncertainty.”
Sums it up.
Communiqués is a new and ongoing series providing first-person perspectives on how the craft and design community is thinking about, responding and adapting to the current coronavirus pandemic and the ways in which it is reshaping our lives, activities and relationships. To discuss this piece, head over to our Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook pages. If you’re interested in contributing, please drop us a line at pitches@studiomagazine.ca with the subject line “Communiqués.” For more content from Studio Magazine, subscribe to our newsletter.
