Residency Reflections: Polly Bennett
Can you describe your first impression of Le Moulin de Marnay and the surrounding environment?
My first impression was of the profound slowness of the place: the steady river, the weight of the stone walls, the endless stillness of the crop fields. My body immediately registered that I had stepped into a different rhythm. I also became aware of a shift in the colour palette compared to back home in the UK. The colours in Marnay’s flora, stone and light felt warmer, softer, paler, and more earthy.
How did the residency impact your creative process or shift your perspective as an artist?
The residency gave me permission to loosen my grip on structure and productivity. Away from deadlines and briefs, I could lean into process and curiosity. It offered the space to experiment with materials in new ways, such as trying out recipes like making potash. I realised how much my work is shaped not just by materials but also by rhythm, that taking time to sit, walk, and listen is just as essential as making.
Was there a particular moment during the residency that stands out as transformative or unexpected?
A particular moment that stands out was on the second day when Melanie and I spoke about my practice and my colour making. That conversation was unexpectedly powerful, affirming that my colour making is not just a technique but truly my art, my creative outlet, and a unique expression of myself. It gave me a renewed confidence in my practice and reminded me that the work I do with colour is central to who I am, not only as an artist but as a being. I now confidently call myself an alchemist. Those first days settling into the new space were made all the more magical by Melanie’s son, Gulliver, a kindred spirit, who without realising it left objects and tools scattered throughout the garden for me to incorporate into my apothecary. This unexpected guidance helped me find my rhythm, build my toolbox, and fully explore my pigments, recipes, and experiments.
What did the time away from your regular environment teach you about your needs as an artist?
It showed me that I need space for both solitude and exchange. The balance of quiet mornings alone with my materials, followed by communal meals and conversations with other residents, was deeply nourishing. I realised that my best work happens when I allow both reflection and connection to shape it. I also became more aware of how transportable and site-sensitive my practice is. Wherever I find myself, my work allows me to experience new environments through an artistic lens, producing creations that act as souvenirs and memorials to those spaces. I am deeply grateful to have a practice that allows me to experience nature and rural landscapes so fully and intimately.
Is there anything you left behind — literally or metaphorically — when the residency ended?
I left behind a sense of urgency. I returned home with a slower pace, knowing that meaningful work requires sensitivity towards my neurodiverse needs, patience and presence. I also left parts of myself at Melanie’s home, a selection of pigments, imprints of my wanderings, the beginnings of the next chapter, and the excitement to return! I wait in anticipation to see how Ranny incorporates my pigments into his creations.
Anything else you would like to share?
The residency reaffirmed that making is not just about producing objects but about entering into relationship with place, people, and materials. I left feeling both grounded and expanded. I am grateful for the stillness, the companionship, and the quiet transformations that will continue to ripple through my practice.
