Working Within And Without A Studio

Haffendi Anuar

This past year has been such a complex learning experience. At the time of writing, it has been a little more than a year since the arrival of the first Covid-19 case in the United Kingdom and the subsequent implementation of a nationwide lockdown by the government on 23 March 2020.1 I had recently relocated to Oxford for graduate studies at Oxford University in the fall of 2019, desiring to take a break from professional practice and to focus on research and playful making. I picked up sewing as a process of drawing and experimented with constructing anthropomorphised structures using kain pelikat (‘Pangkor ’, 2020). I decided on the university as I wanted to place my work in varying contexts and modes of thinking. I was also attracted to the intensity of the programme and the wonderful tutors.

I was on track to complete the Master of Fine Art (MFA) at the Ruskin School of Art and was in the final semester, termed Trinity in the Oxford calendar, when the first restrictions were enacted. In line with the government’s assessment to curb the swift rising cases, non-essential retail, offices and educational institutions were closed, and in a short period of time I lost access to the valuable studio, project space and workshops, among others. Each MFA student at the Ruskin was assigned to a white-walled partitioned space measuring 5 square metres within the larger MFA space. Here, two rows of individual studios open like wings from a central social space, equipped with a sofa and lockers. I then finished the programme in my college bedroom, with lessons conducted over Microsoft Teams. I remember this period to be exceptionally stressful. Even though it was spring outside, with birds chirping happily in a sun-filled environment, I felt a sense of dread and doubt hovering in the crisp air. That feeling was also propagated everyday by the constant barrage of dire news and the uncertain future that awaited.

Studio at the Ruskin School of Art, Oxford University prior to moving out.

The discussions in the virtual critiques and tutorials in the final semester were mostly centred on the motivation of art-making in this time of global crisis, art’s “utility”, practising outside the traditional format of the art school studio and the utilisation of the screen as an exhibition format. Beyond class, we discussed as a cohort whether to demand compensation from the school and to join the ‘Pause or Pay’ movement, a student-led action group that had arisen in April 2020 as a response to the disruption of studio-based learning in art academic institutions by the pandemic.2 It was also the first time the course, which had been running for around five years, shifted entirely to a virtual platform. The initial delivery was slightly clumsy, littered with connection issues and problems with file sharing, and I had to quickly readjust my expectations of the course.

As an artist who works with various materials and whose practice has a close relationship with craft and making, I found this abrupt switch from physical to digital platforms of making and sharing very challenging. I still believe my work is best received in the flesh, so that the audience is able to appreciate the tactile qualities and engage with the work in a space from multiple perspectives and physical distances. The traditional final show at the end of any art school degree was also scrapped, and we celebrated the completion of the course via a festive online broadcast, accessible to anyone anywhere. The final assessment was based on a submission of a digital document.

Losing the studio made me think about its significance to my practice. I remember that I mourned its loss, a somewhat substantial feeling that was detrimental to my creative fitness at the time. Furthermore, prior to returning to formal art education, I had been a practising artist for years, and in a privileged mindset, had always assumed I had access to mine. Losing one also made me think of its purpose throughout art history. The very early studios were the heavily staffed Renaissance workshops and in the period of modernism, the sexy urban lofts in art centres were idealised as spaces for the male heroic genius to “perform”. In the post-studio era with dematerialised art objects of Western art in the 1960s and the 1970s, tight finances made having a studio difficult, so a number of artists practised without having one.3 I have also thought about what constitutes an art studio now; for an emerging artist like myself, the basics I suppose are some clean walls to photograph works, floor space, ample storage area and a source of light, whether natural or artificial. I also thought about its function beyond a place to make work, as an element of legitimisation and a social space to connect with other practitioners.

Though most art schools’ workspaces are generally governed by a plethora of rules and regulations, the tutors in my undergraduate course at Central Saint Martins in London were very concerned about the condition of the floor and required students to place coverings when working. And at the Ruskin, there was a curfew, and we were required to leave by midnight. The studio at the Ruskin was a productive space of sharing and connections. It was great to work next to other practitioners at various stages of their practices and I genuinely missed that social component. Thinking of the studio as a vector for possibilities for social interactions and as a constantly shifting thing, I thought of the British artist Dave Beech’s YouTube lecture on the studio that I watched in the first month of the pandemic. Instead of attempting to move beyond it, it would probably be productive to think of the studio beyond a single fixed social relationship, and as a thing that is formed and re-formed in different situations and by varying social relations.4

Haffendi Anuar, ‘Pentas Bina Badan (Bodybuilder’s Stage) IV’, 2020, sand, adhesive, acrylic, oil, receipts, newspaper on paper, 29.7 x 21cm.

In the final months of the course and in an attempt to be resourceful, I converted the dining room table in the graduate hall where I was staying into a makeshift studio, as well as working on the carpeted floor of my room. The spatial limitations dictated the scale of the work. I was also thinking about bodily and economic health which were constantly discussed in the news and made small collages and paintings of over-flexed male torsos, such as ‘Pentas Bina Badan (Bodybuilder’s Stage) IV’ (2020). The cropped body parts appear as though they are trying to burst out of their tight rectangular frames. After some time, the work began to expand in my room. Unable to tame it, the boundary between the mixed media work and objects in my life became less clear, and pieces of clothing intermingled with images, newspaper cut-outs and painted surfaces. It was during this time that I appreciated the artistic necessity to create. Beyond the romanticised notion of the studio and even without an official one with its rudimentary “architecture”, any surface I found was a potential studio and as Sharon L. Butler observed, making art beyond one is evidence of human resilience.

Makeshift studio in my graduate accommodation during the first UK lockdown.

Right now, I have taken up a new studio in a shared compound in Oxford and have decided to stay in town for another year to focus on my work. Fortunately, this new studio was allowed to stay open during second and third lockdowns as it is classified as a workspace. The studio for me has served as more than a place of art production; I conduct my online art lessons for youngsters there, and it has also served as backdrops for digital sharing sessions. It is also a place I go to think. I am fortunate to still have access to a studio amidst restrictions. I have realised that it is important for me to be able to separate my workspace from living, and appreciate that I have the privilege to do so. As I mature as an artist, I know that I will always be accompanied by a studio in my art journey, in its various forms and permutations.

Notes

1. “A Timeline of UK Lockdown Measures since the Pandemic Began,” Express & Star, accessed March 30, 2021, https://www.expressandstar.com/news/uknews/2021/01/04/a-timeline-of-uk-lockdown-measures-since-the-pandemicbegan/. 2. “Pause or Pay UK”, accessed March 30, 2021, https://www.pauseorpayuk.org/. 3. Sharon L. Butler, “Lost in Space: Art Post-Studio,” The Brooklyn Rail, June 2008, accessed March 30, 2021, https://brooklynrail.org/2008/06/art/jamesharithas-with-raphael-rubinstein. 4. Dave Beech, “The Lockdown Studio Lecture”, April 21, 2020, video, 16:00, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3JnOef7a4U.