31 august 2022, Oscar van Gelderen
The studio of... Marcos Kueh
What does the ideal studio look like? How much time does an artist spend in his studio? Is it a sacred place? In the series 'The Artist’s Studio' this week: Marcos Kueh, winner of the Ron Mandos Young Blood Award of 2022, whose work is currently on view at the ‘Best of Graduates’ exhibition at Ron Mandos Gallery, till September 17th.
Do you visit your studio every day?
Before being a textile artist, for most of my career I have been involved in graphic design and advertising, as a freelancer. The idea of a studio for me has always been: a corner where I can place my laptop and get into work, be it my living room, bedroom, the textile workshop, the weaving factories or sitting in on someone else’s studio space. In a weird way my studio is more of a mental space than a physical space that I own; it’s mobile, adaptable and – at the moment – parasitic. I am working towards having a more secure station for myself after my graduation so let’s hope it’s going to be a good one.
The space that I spent the most time in for the past two years is the textile workshop of the Royal Academy of Art where I graduated in just last summer. I try to visit my studio space be it mentally or physically every day except for Sundays. Even if inspiration doesn’t strike on that day, Steven Pressfield writes in his book The War of Art: ‘The mundane physical act of sitting down and starting work sets in motion a mysterious but infallible sequence of events that would produce inspiration.’ I feel that, sometimes.
What time do you leave for your studio, and how: on foot, by bicycle, public transport or car?
I normally start my working days around 9AM, wherever my studio might be on that day. I like to walk to my space if I can, breathe some fresh air, tune into the right head space, and maybe do an Instagram story post to say good morning to the world.
Do you hold on to certain rituals in your studio? Music or silence?
When I enter a space I try to say ‘hello’ mentally and when I leave also mentally thank the space for a good day of work before saying goodbye. If I have to work in a space with machines, I try to sleep well the night before and make sure I have breakfast so that I am focused and ready to collaborate with the machines, without hurting myself or accidentally damaging them. I see myself as the director and the machines as my colleagues. The project can only go as well as how sharp you are with directing, how flexible you are with solving problems along the way and most importantly: how much you synergize with your team. As a textile artist can be very repetitive and mundane. I like to play music or put on a podcast while I am mentally in the zone. I usually only listen to pop music and shuffle between Chinese pop and American pop. Slow beats in the morning and upbeat in the evenings. I obsessively replay music albums that I gravitate towards. After the hundredth time of replaying you just notice things, choices in lyricism, the way words are vocalized, the curation of instruments, the order of things in an album. It’s fascinating unpacking all these complex designed decisions through the convivence of Spotify nowadays. Currently playing on repeat: ‘Renaissance’ by Beyoncé
The list of the top podcasts that I cycle through: ‘Reveal’ (American investigative journalism), ‘99% Invisible’ (conversations about integrated designs in our lives that we have stopped noticing), ‘Modern Love’ (relationships, feelings, betrayal and revelations) and of course once in a while take some relationship advice from Esther Perel.
Hoe belangrijk is licht voor u?
Pretty helpful when it comes down to reminding me of the hour of the day. I tend to get lost in work quite often.
What does your work process look like? Do you work everywhere and all the time or does work only commence the moment you enter your studio?
I do a lot of research and digital work on my laptop before moving it into materialising work on the machines. Then from the output I would need to analyse and fine-tune the work again on the laptop. Normally this would repeat until I am close to a deadline and would need to just go with whatever is best at the moment. I try to keep my work within working hours. Outside of my working hours I try not to be an artist and just live my life as an ordinary consumer.
How much time do you spend on average per day in your studio?
I normally start my day at 9AM and end my day at 9.30-10PM with breaks in between. I come from a developing country and some work habits just never go away.
Is your studio a sacred place?
I don’t have a permanent studio space yet, but after being graciously allowed to work in so many spaces that have been not my own, I would also like to have a space where it feels open and inviting. The word sacred to me sounds too personal and closed off. I have my own believes and weird rituals when it comes down to my practice but I also don’t feel the need to mystify any of the process.
Do you receive visitors there, collectors, curators and fellow artists?
Hopefully in the near future. I love having people around to talk about my work. I want my practice to be a social one where I am constantly in conversation on where my practise stands in the contemporary social discourse and my reactions and commentary on it from my own deductions and perspective. It would be weird for me if all the information I use for my works are only from books, online videos or texts.
What is the most beautiful studio you have ever seen?
I have to be honest that the world of contemporary art is still very new to me, so I have not seen a lot of studios yet. But again, I find it hard to define what beauty as a criteria means when it comes down to assessing someone’s workspace.
What does the ideal studio look like?
A big wide space, close to the centre where it is open and accessible for people to come by. It needs at least a kitchen because sharing food is important and having a few spaces where focused work is possible. Everything else that happens in the studio then just becomes a social experiment.
