logo
Creative escapes: ‘A studio isn't a luxury – it's a necessity'

Creative escapes: ‘A studio isn't a luxury – it's a necessity'

Irish Times7 hours ago

Settings don't get much more scenic than
watercolour
artist Edel Treacy's studio in Inistioge, Co Kilkenny. Dating back more than 300 years, the small stone outbuilding is located on a dairy farm, which has been in her husband Luke's family for generations.
'It's looking particularly beautiful this morning,' says Treacy, who has dropped her three sons (aged nine, seven and five) at school, made a coffee and taken 'about five steps to the art shed', from her house to work on a commission.
'There's inspiration everywhere around here. Beside my studio there's a lane full of hedges, greenery, bluebells, primroses, bees and birdsong.'
Inside the single-storey building, there's a vaulted ceiling, small traditional windows, plus new roof windows installed by a neighbour. The walls are made from exposed stone, native to the area, and the concrete floor allows for paint spillages.
READ MORE
Artist Edel Treacy at her home studio in Coolraney, Inistioge, Thomastown, Co. Kilkenny. Photo: Bryan O'Brien / The Irish Times
'It's not the brightest space, but there's a softness to the light and it gets a lot of sun,' says Treacy. 'When my dad saw it, he said, 'You can mess away in there to your heart's content Edel.''
Working from home is nothing new for many artists, who were operating from kitchen tables, spare bedrooms and draughty garages long before lockdown.
A rented studio space seems increasingly out of reach for a lot of Irish creatives, with the housing crisis, rising costs and the closure of a number of shared workspaces in recent years.
But despite the challenges, carving out space to make art is as vital as ever; whether it's in a 'room of one's own', to borrow
Virginia Woolf
's phrase, or just a quiet corner.
Work of artist Edel Treacy at her home studio in Inistioge, Co. Kilkenny. Photograph: Bryan O'Brien/The Irish Times
In winter, Treacy prefers to work in the warmth of her house. But she enjoys the separation between the two buildings. 'I can walk out the front door, leave housework or laundry behind, and just get engrossed'.
Rural life has also aided her creative practice. 'The farmer shows up every day to the farm, no matter what's going on, so I show up every day to my art,' she says. 'Even if it's for five or 10 minutes, that discipline has made me better.'
There are some drawbacks to living in a rural idyll. 'I'm incredibly lucky, but sometimes you miss the city as an artist – the people, cafes, galleries and art shops,' Treacy admits.
From the sounds of things though, the art shed can be fairly bustling. Treacy shares it with her husband if he's working remotely, and her sons pop in to paint or draw at a little picnic table beside her.
Edel Treacy's home studio in Coolraney, Inistioge, Thomastown, Co. Kilkenny. Photo: Bryan O'Brien / The Irish Times
'The boys sometimes knock something over and run off, but they usually leave me to it. Once or twice, they've signed a piece with their own name and I have to start again. But they're actually very inspiring,' says the remarkably patient Treacy, who also job-shares as a primary schoolteacher. 'They enhance my creativity because they're so playful.'
Spare bedroom studio
Georgina O'Hanlon's illustration, which she produces in a room in her Dublin home.
At first glance, illustrator Georgina O'Hanlon's studio is very different from Treacy's rustic outbuilding. A converted spare bedroom in the artist's semidetached house in Whitehall, Dublin 9, its view isn't of flower-filled lanes, or rolling valleys, but other homes in a quiet cul-de-sac.
North Dublin might seem like a less romantic location than Inistioge, but O'Hanlon has created a light-filled, joyful workspace, adorned with her nature and folklore-inspired designs.
She hand-draws at a desk by the window, scans the illustrations into her computer, and sends them to be printed or woven in Europe. Seamstresses in Stoneybatter then turn the colourful fabric into Italian silk kaftans, cushions, hair accessories and blankets.
Georgina O'Hanlon
O'Hanlon's latest collection, Fairytales on Silk, recalls magical childhood summers with her grandmother in Co Clare. But she insists she has plenty of access to nature in her urban location, wandering through the park or nearby Botanic Gardens when she needs 'brain candy'.
'I'm close enough to the energy of town when I need it, but day to day, I get to enjoy the slower pace of local life,' says the artist, who purchased the house last year with her husband. The couple are expecting their first child in July.
Cushions based on Georgina O'Hanlon's illustrations
O'Hanlon does miss meeting fellow creatives in shared studios, and with no commute, 'there's no clear line between where your day begins and ends'.
The National College of Art and Design graduate previously worked in shared spaces such as Moxie Studios, which closed in 2014. She then rented a studio space in the city, which proved expensive. She's fully aware of how fortunate she is as an artist to have this workspace – 'a haven' – and her own home in the capital.
'Compared to artists in regional areas, the pressure in Dublin is particularly acute. The cost of living, the scarcity of space, and the absence of long-term support mean that many have simply had to leave the field,' O'Hanlon says.
'A studio isn't a luxury – it's a necessity. It's a space to spread ideas out, to see them fully, to build on them. Yet the infrastructure just isn't there. The whole situation feels deeply disheartening. Artists are expected to leap without a safety net, and for many, that leap is simply too far.'
Garden room art
Lorraine Coll's garden studio
For the Derry-based contemporary abstract artist Lorraine Coll, the challenges of working from home can be seen in her livingroom – but only if you look very closely.
'I've scrubbed the walls, the blinds – and don't lift the rug!' laughs Coll, whose beautiful, striking paintings can take a month to create and employ a range of techniques – such as burning paint with a hot gun to add texture.
A graduate of Manchester School of Art, Coll worked as an artist in Manchester 'from the kitchen table in our flat'. She returned to her hometown in 2013 and got a job with the local library service.
After taking a career break due to baby loss, Coll took up painting again. Returning to her passion proved therapeutic, and demand for Coll's pieces began to increase. Working from home made sense from a cost perspective, but as an artist who loves to 'work big', and with prospective customers wanting to view the paintings, the small, dark livingroom wasn't fit for purpose.
In 2022, garden rooms were enjoying a surge in popularity post-lockdown. Coll decided to invest, enlisting a local company to build the stand-alone structure in her back garden. Hedges were cleared, Coll's son gave up his trampoline (happily – 'football was taking over anyway') to make space, and her husband installed the electrics, plastering and flooring to save money.
Lorraine Coll works in her garden studio
The 3.8m x 3.2m space has large double doors to let in plenty of light, low-maintenance vinyl flooring, and paint-splattered walls which currently display two large canvases with moody burgundy hues, florescent pinks and oranges.
'They're at the 'ugly stage' where I'm building up vibrant colours underneath,' Coll says. 'I'll layer them up and they'll look totally different at the end.'
The traditional model of selling at art fairs, or to galleries, is changing. Most of Coll's sales now come via social media and her website. She has recouped her spend on the garden room, and it's also added value to her home.
'I've sent pieces to Australia, America, and connected with people all over the world,' Coll says. 'It's lovely to be able to do that from my back garden in Derry.'
www.instagram.com/edeltreacywatercolours
;
lorrainecollart.com
;
georginaohanlonillustration.com

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Beyond the Pale festival to go ahead, organisers say after late doubts
Beyond the Pale festival to go ahead, organisers say after late doubts

Irish Times

time3 hours ago

  • Irish Times

Beyond the Pale festival to go ahead, organisers say after late doubts

Beyond the Pale festival, which is due to take place in Co Wicklow next weekend, is going ahead, organisers have said after doubts arose on Saturday about its fate. In a statement on Saturday night, the organisers said : 'it's unbelievably tough out there for independent festivals, venues, promoters, artists ... we all know that. Today we very nearly stumbled, ngl [not going to lie]. But the festival gods smiled upon us, and the fate of Beyond the Pale is secure for 2025, and for many years to come. 'Thanks for bearing with us today, thanks for all the messages and gestures of support ... and see you at Glendalough next week.' A report from The Currency on Saturday said a decision had been made to cancel the festival and the company Cupola Events Ltd run by Declan Forde would be liquidated 'effective immediately'. READ MORE However, a spokeswoman for the festival said on Saturday afternoon that the festival was not cancelled. This was followed up by the statement on Saturday night confirming that there had been some financial difficulties but stating the event would go ahead. [ How to stage an Irish music festival: Organisers have to prepare for the unexpected Opens in new window ] The music festival, scheduled for June 13th to 15th at Glendalough Estate, features a line-up including Jon Hopkins, Róisín Murphy, TV On The Radio, Broken Social Scene, Marc Rebillet and Boney M.

Enigmatic Galway seek to prevent Kilkenny sextet
Enigmatic Galway seek to prevent Kilkenny sextet

RTÉ News​

time4 hours ago

  • RTÉ News​

Enigmatic Galway seek to prevent Kilkenny sextet

Kilkenny v Galway in the Leinster final. Think up something new to say about this one. Not easy. It's the ninth time that the pair have met in a provincial decider since Galway were welcomed into Leinster back in 2009. Or, to put it more precisely, since Mammy and Daddy on Central Council insisted that the other Leinster counties were going to have to let Galway play with them. Kilkenny, with their masterful self-confidence, were the only Leinster hurling county to signal their approval for Galway's entrance into the province. Although past comments from 'Taggy' Fogarty suggest that Brian Cody may not have been consulted on this. "Brian would be a traditionalist," 'Taggy' said on Newstalk a few years ago, before indicating that the notion of Galway winning the Bob O'Keeffe Cup sat about as well with Cody as the prospect of a new Casement Park sits with the publicans of Clones. This latest edition of the fixture isn't thrumming with as much back-story as when Henry Shefflin wore the Galway manager's shirt. The Leinster hurling championship became the unlikely home of soap-opera melodrama back in the summer of 2022. Cody's post-match handshake with his greatest ever player after the Salthill round-robin game had all the warmth of the Bull McCabe's initial interaction with the Yank at auction. The many super slo-mos could have been overlain with the Eastenders outro sequence. If this were the States, 'The Handshake' would be a blockbuster ESPN documentary. But Shefflin is gone from Galway now after three seasons in charge. Two of his campaigns consisted of respectable runs to the All-Ireland semi-final - in which they managed to soften the cough of the Munster supremacists in successive quarter-finals. His third and final season, however, was damningly abject. Galway's 2017 All-Ireland winning manager Micheál Donoghue has returned, as one always envisioned he would at some stage. The big regret for most of their supporters is that he was ever gone from the role. Kilkenny are leading 6-2 on the head-to-head on those Leinster finals. Galway's victories came in 2012, after that stunning first-half blitz which left people rubbing their eyes at the scoreline, and the 2018 replay in Thurles, when Taylor Swift and her fans were occupying Croke Park. A couple of those Kilkenny victories were pure larceny. The 2020 Covid final belongs up there with the 1990 All-Ireland final in the Tribesmen's 'how-the-hell-did-we-lose-that?' hall of fame. Richie Hogan's genius is one reason. Even more sickening for Galway was the 2023 decider when Padraic Mannion's booted clearance off the ground somehow managed to fly straight into Cillian Buckley's paw. The 2022 Leinster final, Cody's last as manager, was more stop-start than an NFL game and probably the dullest televised hurling match of the 21st century. These two have traditionally not brought a great following to provincial final day, none more so than in '12 when a tiny crowd from the west were there to witness their historic ambush. Only 24,483 were there for the last Leinster final between them in '23. A perusal of the Leinster final attendances over the past 15 years indicates the two biggest by a distance were in 2017 and 2019, which were also the only two in that span to involve Wexford. While the Munster Council are cranking up the price to capitalise on demand, the Leinster Council are in outreach mode, with 20,000 free tickets made available to Under-16s. Galway seem to have finally recovered their standing among their public after the insipid opening day display in Nowlan Park. No assessment was gloomy enough after that particular no-show. Remarkably, it was Galway's fourth 12-point defeat of the year, all three of their league losses coming by that margin. (So far in 2025, Galway have either won... or lost by 12 points). Worst of all, they were devoured by a Kilkenny side without TJ Reid and who lost Adrian Mullen to injury after 15 minutes. The fallout was ugly from that one. Galway hurling supporters, never averse to bouts of cosmic negativity, were consoling themselves that they might at least beat Antrim to stay in Leinster. Coming on top of last year, it was confirmation that Galway were in the depths of 'transition' with no quick fix on the horizon. The Offaly game in Tullamore - viewed with rare trepidation beforehand - panned out roughly like every other Offaly-Galway game has since 2012. An imperious Cathal Mannion floated over 0-17 as they beat Wexford to at least ensure progression from Leinster. The Antrim game was a turkey shoot which doesn't warrant much analysis. It was hard to find a pundit beforehand who was tipping Galway in Parnell Park. Partly this was due to their spotty and careless record in that fixture. Niall Ó Ceallachain's team appeared to hold far greater allure to the punditry class than a Galway side still harbouring many of the same old faces from the mid-to-late 2010s. In the end, the five-point margin over Dublin in the finish grossly understated their superiority. One echo of Donoghue's triumphant 2017 season is the dearth of a Galway goal-scoring threat. They scored just one goal in the three relevant fixtures, which arrived very late against Wexford with the result already more or less settled. In the second half in Parnell Park, a couple of serious goal opportunities went completely unexplored in favour of tap-over points. In the context of the game, it probably made sense. With the backing of a big wind, the shoot-on-sight policy was a wild success and the remorseless rat-a-tat of points was killing Dublin in the third quarter. Amid all the talk of transition, the Galway team has a time-stood-still aspect to it. Micheál Donoghue seemed to give every able-bodied twenty-something male in south Galway a run during the league. John Fleming is one newcomer to nail down a starting spot but the team has a familiar feel. The Mannions remain prominent. Five-time All-Star Daithí Burke - who "could play full-back without a hurl," as Cyril Farrell is wont to say - is still relied upon in defence. Conor Whelan, struggling for form earlier in the season, embraced his blue-collar side with a scoreless but workmanlike display against Wexford, in which he turned over ball repeatedly. The scoring touch returned in the second half in Donnycarney when he looked to be motoring again. The venerable David Burke, indisputably one of the county's all-time greats, was superb against the Dubs, a model of awareness and game-intelligence. The Cats' heavy win over Galway in Nowlan Park in April was in fact their first round-robin victory in the fixture in six attempts, a detail that might trigger a double-take given Derek Lyng's side are pursuing a sixth Leinster title on the trot. Hogan previously suggested that they were a tad lukewarm about the whole round-robin business. Perhaps given that Kilkenny, more than any other county, know they will be in the All-Ireland series, giving to the provincial league process the air of an extended preamble. This might explain why they have yet to muster a 100% record in the group stages, despite hogging Bob O'Keeffe for the past half-decade. In 2025, they probably would have done so had they not put out an experimental side in the dead rubber against Wexford. Typically, they've shaken off any round-robin listlessness in time for Leinster final day in Croke Park, last year's frightful demolition of Dublin being a prime example. The busy midfield duo of Jordan Molloy and Cian Kenny were especially effective against Galway, hitting 0-05 from play between them. Mossy Keoghan, Kilkenny's designated scorer from play for parts of the league, has hit a goal a game in his four appearances so far, with 1-02 each against Galway, Dublin and Antrim. Significantly, he took TJ Brennan for 0-07 from play in the Nowlan Park league game. Mullen, recovered from his injury in the opening round, started the Wexford game in the odd location of centre-back though that's been written off as consequence-free experimentation. However, the absence of the still-injured Eoin Cody is a major loss for the defending champions. We're up on a decade since Kilkenny last claimed Liam MacCarthy, their longest barren run since 1947-57. The irritation at tossing away last year's semi-final against Clare may still rankle, especially in light of Limerick's exit the following week. In the eyes of the traditionalists, backing against Kilkenny in a Leinster final would be deemed as attention-seeking nonsense. Logically, they look like the more secure shout. But would be entirely in keeping with the enigmatic beast that is Galway hurling for them to turn up and win having taken a pasting in the fixture two months earlier.

John Simpson: ‘It's been great to watch how Ireland went from a pretty backward country to a real powerhouse in Europe'
John Simpson: ‘It's been great to watch how Ireland went from a pretty backward country to a real powerhouse in Europe'

Irish Times

time6 hours ago

  • Irish Times

John Simpson: ‘It's been great to watch how Ireland went from a pretty backward country to a real powerhouse in Europe'

With a grandmother from Co Tipperary , the veteran journalist and broadcaster John Simpson holds dual British-Irish citizenship. Speaking from his home in Oxford, he says the idea of moving back to Ireland is a topic of quite regular discussion with his wife. He has lived in Rathgar in Dublin 'but even more gorgeous was moving to Dalkey , to Bullock Harbour in Dalkey'. 'My life has been bound up with Ireland for a very long time. I got married very early [to his first wife], too early, at the age of 21, and we had our honeymoon in Ireland, in Co Cork , which was just delightful. From that age, through to today, Ireland has been part of my life.' He accepts that television 'is a medium which does of course bulk up your ego', but he says having a Doppelgänger helps keep him humble. 'Everybody thinks I'm David Attenborough . They think I'm doing two jobs or something. For years now any self-image has been modified by the knowledge that people can't even recognise who you are.' A number of paths led Simpson to a career in journalism. 'I found when I was at university in particular, that I was good at writing and love the sound of my own voice,' he says. The other was reading George Orwell's 1984 when he was 15. 'I was so horrified by the thought that you could scrub out the past and rewrite it according to the interest of the government of the day, that I remember thinking very, very clearly then ... I want to do something to make sure that doesn't happen. READ MORE 'The desire to see things as they are, and present them to people as they are, and to make sure that people don't forget what they were like – that was something that mattered to me when I was 15 and it still matters to me now that I'm 80.' He continues to present Unspun World with John Simpson, which is broadcast on BBC2 . 'That's a high even in [the sense] of, with one foot in the grave and the other one on a banana skin, I can still have a real enjoyment of journalism.' For a low point in his storied career, he points to his time in Beirut in the 1980s reporting on the Israeli invasion of Lebanon for the BBC . 'I was captured, and accused of being a spy, and tortured and subjected to mock execution. I've talked about some of those things in the past, but I've never talked about the torture, never to anybody, not even to my wife ... I realise, while I was being messed about with by these torturers, that I would tell them anything. 'I was so humiliated ... I like to have a good opinion of myself and I realised I wasn't strong enough to resist it, that I kind of kept silent about it, kept it a secret, and it's only in the last five years that I felt free to talk about it ... It doesn't come much lower than that, sort of gibbering with fear and pain and praying to be free of it. And then having a mock execution at the end of it. I really do know what a near-death experience is because I was about half a second away from it. It's just that there wasn't a bullet in the gun.' He has had other near-death experiences. 'Getting bombed in Iraq, by the Americans. A 1,000lb bomb landed 15 paces from where I was standing, killed my translator who was standing beside me. God knows why I wasn't killed. Being nearly ripped apart in Iran, that was a pretty fierce experience.' John Simpson: 'Everybody thinks I'm David Attenborough. They think I'm doing two jobs or something' But his first such experience was a little closer to home, he explains, during The Troubles. 'I was BBC correspondent in Ireland. On the very first day I covered an IRA funeral in Belfast. The key thing was to get a sound recording – I was working for radio – of the moment when the guys pulled out their guns and fired over the grave. And I had a tiny little tape recorder which was new on the market – this was 1972, I think. Every time I thought someone was going to pull out a gun I sneaked out my little tape recorder and thought nobody could possibly notice what I was doing, and of course they did and they said I was a British spy. And the man in charge clearly of Provo security for the funeral said to the other guys who were around us, 'Give him one up the nostril.'' A colleague of Simpson's had noticed what was going on. 'All the other journalists had left by this stage, because the end of these things is always the most dangerous. I was too new to the game to realise that. This man from the London Sunday Times spotted what was happening and came back, and said in a very Brit way, 'Oh hello, John. Is there any problem?'' [ John Simpson: My torture was 'deeply humiliating, wounding to the spirit' Opens in new window ] Although his colleague vouching for him was enough to get Simpson out of the situation in that case, the experience was sufficiently frightening to make him question if journalism was really for him. 'I sat down on the bed and I thought, 'this stuff isn't for me. This is too dangerous. It's too nasty. You can get seriously hurt and I want to go home.'' He paused and considered before making a decision. 'I mean, whoever said journalism should be a safe profession? And as I worked my way through to that thought, I just thought, 'Well, you should just be really grateful you got out of that. Make sure you don't get into similar situations through your own stupidity again, and give it a bit of a try.'' Simpson's family lived in Dublin then and he commuted to Belfast. 'There were great stories in the Republic too, at that stage,' he says. 'It was a textbook perfect start to a career ... I've loved Belfast and I've loved Ireland, as a whole, ever since. I'm very much afraid that the future for Palestinians is to be driven out of their own country — John Simpson 'I made a huge number of friends, particularly in Dublin.' he continues. 'In the South I was much, much freer.' Simpson doesn't have any big concerns about the Irish and UK relationship post-Brexit, even with the growth of Reform UK , the party led by Nigel Farage . 'I don't know how strong Reform is going to be. I certainly don't think it or anything else will really get in the way of a good relationship with Ireland,' he says. 'As we're seeing with Donald Trump, there are these big waves and troughs. But we mustn't ever think these things are permanent. Donald Trump will be gone in just over three years' time and the world will carry on without him. And it will carry on without individual politicians in Britain. 'One of the great things in my life has been to watch how Ireland went from being a frankly pretty backward country, through to being a real powerhouse in Europe ... And that has been such a joy to me to see. Ireland needed to get out of Britain's shadow and it's done that and the Brits have been obliged to regard Ireland as a serious entity which they've got to treat with as much care and thought as they treat France or Germany or the US.' Just as in the UK and elsewhere in Europe, he's aware of some of the unrest and discontent around issues such as immigration in Ireland. 'I think it's just a matter of governments learning how to balance themselves with these difficult circumstances ... I don't think any recent government in Britain has been terribly good at it. And I don't think any government in Ireland has been terribly good at it,' he adds. As much of the world looks on in despair at what is happening in Gaza , Simpson doesn't see any solution in the short term. 'I'm now running out of hope for the longer term,' he says. 'I've always assumed that at some stage a form of a two-state solution would be established and, well, I think Binyamin Netanyahu has made it impossible for that to happen. 'I'm very much afraid that the future for Palestinians is to be driven out of their own country. It's a terrible thought to me, but I think that is where Israel is going ... and I think that at the moment, at any rate, the US is allowing that to happen.' Influencing public opinion in Israel is the only potential solution he sees at the moment. 'Not by being angry and dissociative, but by supporting the quite large number, the proportion must be about 40-45 per cent of Israelis, who don't want to go down that route. But isolating Israel and condemning it – it may be morally the right thing to do, many countries might feel it's the right thing to do, but it wouldn't have the effect of helping the future of the Palestinian people,' he says. John Simpson and his son, Rafa, in Brighton As Simpson reflects on his extensive past and continuing career, it's hard to imagine how he managed to combine it with being a father. 'Badly for the first two,' he admits. 'My two daughters are absolutely lovely girls and they've been so nice to me. I was an absentee father. I was never really around properly. Then I married again in 1996 and we had a son who spent part of his life in Ireland, went to Castle Park School in Dalkey and loved it. I was [at] a kind of level then where I was able to say, look, I'm not going to catch a plane because somebody's shot themselves in the toe in Vladivostok. I'm going to stay in London, and if you, the BBC, don't like it, well, I'm sorry, I've got other commitments.' 'I've been around much, much more for my son, and if he's as nice to me as my daughters have been I'm a lucky man.' Simpson's son is 19 and he's finding the experience of fatherhood quite different from when his daughters were born in the late 1960s and early 1970s. For one thing, his son has introduced him to the world of football. 'I'm now as fanatical a supporter of Chelsea as he is,' he says. 'Fatherhood has been, I think, the most exciting and profitable thing that I've done. To have children and to [see] the world through their eyes. It's just we've got this slight desert at the moment because he's at university ... and I haven't got anybody to talk to about Chelsea'. John Simpson's The Leaders and Lunatics Tour comes to the National Concert Hall on Thursday, November 6th, 2025

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store