Just as I’m comfortable in a museum, I love being in a studio, whether my own or the workplace of another artist. When I went to New York in 1980, I was looking for where I might belong. I realize now that I belong not in a particular city, but in a studio.
I was in my mother’s studio from the first day I came home from the hospital. This was before a “live-work space” was hip. We lived on the top floor; the street level was the enameling and pottery studio, and the basement was the metalworking and storage area. I saw jars of colored enamel every day. I saw things made and broken and things sold. I constantly observed the combination of business and personal life.
This painting by Kerry James Marshall (b. 1955) depicts his studio (36.0). One summer, after seventh grade, Marshall visited the studio of his childhood idol Charles White (1918–1979). It was the first time Marshall had seen an artist’s workspace. He realized that making pictures was something he could do. Untitled (Studio) is about the job of the artist and about painting itself.
On a larger level, each of us occupies an indelible space in life: we are our parents’ children and we are the parents of our children. Yes, everything else from a blade of grass to a star dies and we people die too. Death is natural. It is a transitional part of life.
Therefore, the space of our life, like a studio, is borrowed. In that respect, everyone can be like an artist, laboring to do something good.
We try to provide the best future for our children and family. We try not to waste or destroy wantonly. And we can leave some legacy that will continue to benefit others after we have died. Most of the world’s great museums developed from royal or rich people’s collections. After that, they continued to grow with the donations of thousands of other generous people. Walk into any museum, and you’ll see galleries named after donors. Look at the placards; you will often see a donor’s name. You can’t take it with you—but you can give it away.
If you, like I are facing old age and contemplating the winter of your life, reflect on the ultimate act: giving to others. Whether that’s art or compassion, it’s still a matter of giving. That’s the way winter leads to spring.
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Untitled (Studio). Kerry James Marshall (American, born Birmingham, Alabama, 1955) . 2014
Acrylic on PVC panels. 83 5/16 × 119 1/4 in . (211.6 × 302.9 cm). TheMet.