Inside the studio: a study in colour and texture

A space for experimentation

My studio is rarely as organised as I imagine it should be. There are colour tests tucked beneath sketchbooks, unfinished canvases leaning against the wall, and small collections of materials waiting for their next use.

For me, this is not simply a workspace. It is a place where ideas can remain unfinished long enough to become something unexpected.

The studio holds evidence of the process: what worked, what failed, what changed direction, and what still needs more time. I find it useful to keep these traces visible because they remind me that a finished piece is only one part of a much longer exploration.

Starting with a limited palette

Colour is often one of the first things I explore when beginning a new piece. Rather than immediately reaching for every colour available, I usually start with a small selection and investigate the relationships between them.

A limited palette helps me understand how colours behave together. A warm neutral can make a cool blue feel more intense, while a small amount of a contrasting colour can change the entire balance of a composition.

My initial experiments often include:

• Mixing variations of the same base colour.

• Testing transparent and opaque layers.

• Comparing warm and cool tones side by side.

• Recording combinations that create an unexpected mood.

I do not always know what these tests will become. Their purpose is to give me a starting point and a better understanding of the possibilities within the materials.

Building texture through layers

Texture introduces another kind of visual information. It invites the viewer to look beyond the overall composition and notice the surface itself.

I experiment with different tools and techniques to create variation, sometimes using broad brushstrokes and other times applying colour in thin, gradual layers.

The process is rarely linear. A surface might feel complete one day and become interesting again after I add a contrasting material or remove part of what is already there.

“Colour creates the atmosphere; texture gives it something to hold on to.”

I am particularly drawn to the relationship between smooth and rough surfaces. The contrast gives a composition movement and prevents the eye from settling in one place for too long.

Letting the material respond

One of the most interesting parts of working with physical materials is that they have their own behaviour. They absorb, resist, spread, crack, and change depending on how they are handled.

Rather than treating these qualities as limitations, I try to understand what each material can offer.

The material is not simply a vehicle for the idea. It becomes part of the idea itself.

This approach requires patience. Some combinations need time to dry or settle before I can understand how they work. Others reveal their potential immediately, encouraging me to follow a direction I had not considered before.

Knowing when a piece is ready

Finishing a work is not always about reaching a predetermined result. Sometimes it means recognising that the composition has enough contrast, that the surface has reached the right balance, or that adding another layer would weaken what is already there.

I often step away from a piece before making the final decision. Returning with fresh eyes helps me see whether the different elements belong together.

I ask myself three questions:

• Does the work communicate the feeling or idea I wanted to explore?

• Are the materials and composition working together?

• Is there anything left to add that would genuinely improve the piece?

The answers do not always come immediately, and I have learned to accept that uncertainty as part of the process.

What the studio teaches me

Every experiment leaves something behind, even when it does not become a finished artwork. A colour combination, a new way of applying paint, or an unexpected surface can influence pieces created months later.

That is what makes the studio such an important part of my practice. It is not just where I produce work; it is where I learn how to make it.

The finished piece is the visible result. The real story lives in everything that happened along the way.