Residency Reflections: Susan Kellaway
Can you describe your first impression of Le Moulin de Marnay and the surrounding environment?
I wanted to explore the garden the moment I arrived. It held little coves where I immediately imagined my figures: ladies resting, playing, and conspiring. Arriving in August, the land was scorched, and the bobbing roads were either enclosed by thick forest or left isolated by the stretching countryside. It felt like unbound space and dark corners at once. Early in the residency, I remember bathing in the Loire. I was amazed to be there, able to give myself over completely to art and exploration. I was seduced immediately.
How did the residency impact your creative process or shift your perspective as an artist?
The residency opened up my colour palette. The colour became more saturated and more direct, as though the heat and light had burned away the marshmallow-pinks and custard-yellows I so often reached for.
Was there a particular moment during the residency that stands out as transformative or unexpected?
Moving my studio from the attic to the garden was a turning point. I set up every morning in the shade of a tree, interested in the sensation the environment evoked. The light was striking, and I think it came to dominate the paintings, making them lush, shaded and saturated. The figures grew darker in colour and in mood, with sulky expressions.
What did the time away from your regular environment teach you about your needs as an artist?
It taught me that I didn’t need to be so overt. In my earlier work I placed leering watchers in the corners of my paintings, exploring sexuality, shame and voyeurism. Here the women occupy their space, unbothered by the literal watcher, though their expressions show they are not unaware of being watched: there is desire, and the threat of violence. The women became an integral part of the landscape, intertwined with the growth of the environment. It became their playground, their bed, a place for all those intimate behaviours outdoors. But was it not theirs to begin with?
The residency is a shared experience. What was it like interacting with the other artists?
Being surrounded by such committed, curious artists fuelled the fire it takes to make art. We shared feasts in the evenings, talked through our work, giggled and gossiped. We hatched plans to visit Chinon castle, where Joan of Arc gained her army, which excited all of us, and held movie nights to set the pace for our educational visits. It was cosy and communal. Watching James and Keziah work was a real inspiration, for their dedication and their sense of play. James would rummage around the house and garden for artefacts to paint, while Keziah, always exploring, unearthed the female history of the Loire. So much so, it felt like the environment became the fourth member of the residency.
Is there anything you left behind, literally or metaphorically, when the residency ended?
I left behind a painting titled The Garden of France, a direct reference to Max Ernst’s sumptuous painting. We visited his and Dorothea Tanning’s residence, and it stirred the feeling I had on first arriving: the playground of the seductive scenery. The painting lives at Le Moulin de Marnay, which feels like the best home for it, with a woman spread out over the Loire River, enjoying herself in its abundance.
Is there anything else you would like to add?
A huge thank you for the support and space, to Melanie and her beautiful family, and for the candlelit dinners and fruitful conversations.