Poking around Amy Casey’s Cleveland art studio “in an old, crooked blue house,” you’ll see all sorts of surfaces, easels, organized cubbies, and well-utilized corners. The longtime 20x200 artist creates her paintings and prints in a den divided into two rooms: a front area where she really gets down to work, and a back space for airbrushing and storage. If you look closely, you’ll spot her studio companions, Henry and Tom Sawyer. Nothing to keep you motivated like a napping cat or two! In fact, in her In the Studio interview, Casey recommends working your way through bad creative blocks with cat hugs—that or cookie breaks. Both appealing, if you ask us. You might also be pleased to learn she powers her day with true crime podcasts (casual).
And of course there’s plenty of Casey’s incredibly detailed, contemplatively fantastical artwork to be found in her studio tour, transforming her tabletops, walls, and workstations into imagined landscapes. The big, bluish painting you’ll see on an easel is a private commission Casey was working on at the time these photos were taken. (Yes, we’re jealous.) Her work was also on view in a group show at Chicago’s Zg Gallery through this February, and until last month at NYC’s Foley Gallery. Fingers crossed (℅ covid), her fall art residency at Taiwan’s Bamboo Curtain Studio will proceed as planned.
See all her studio pics below and read the full interview, in which she gives advice on making your workspace work for you, and accepts the reality that all her pants will eventually become “painting pants.” Now that’s some real wisdom.
— Team 20x200
Collect art by Amy Casey
Studio Speak
Where's your studio?
My studio is downstairs from my apartment in an old, crooked blue house in Cleveland.
What's your favorite tool in the studio?
I never appreciated my desk and chair set up properly until I spent an extended stay in a studio without them. So hard on your back!! Even with a great setup, I am still sitting on my butt all day, leaning forward. With poor ergonomics, it's a little torturous. My back kept going out on me!
What do you wear when working in the studio?
I have attempted to wear "painting pants" (already stained with paint) to avoid junking up the better ones, but all pants eventually become painting pants. Otherwise, it's hoodies in the winter and barefoot in the summer.
What's on your in-studio playlist?
At the moment, it's a string of guilty pleasure true crime and Star Trek podcasts. Sometimes I listen to audiobooks—Sherlock Holmes read by Stephen Fry, most recently. I used to listen to music but find it makes me too emotional these days. If I'm starting new work, I listen to nothing at all. If I have repetitive detailed work to do, I like a familiar tv show I can listen to for company, like the Golden Girls, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, MASH, etc.
What's the first thing you do when you arrive?
Feed the cats or let them in or out. Beyond that, I usually ease in, spending some time reading or tidying up from the night before. If deadlines are urgent, I just jump right into work.
What's your work style? Late nights? Intense creative bursts? Slow and steady wins the race?
I am a night owl and work until the wee hours. Depending on what's going on, my bedtime is between 3:00am and 8:30am. I try to work at least a little almost every day. If I can't get work going for whatever reason—stuck, seasonal depression, cat interruptions—I sit in the studio pondering or tidy up and reconfigure and make lists. I am generally slow and steady. Often depressingly slow, to me.
How has your creative process, studio set up, etc. changed since the start of the pandemic?
Well, at the start of the pandemic, I was at an art residency with the Helene Wurlitzer Foundation in Taos, New Mexico. A very different feel from Ohio in most ways. I did eventually make my way back across the country. I work alone, so my home studio and process is as it usually is, though the shared printmaking studio I work at has had scheduling restrictions and shop protocols put in place out of pandemic necessity.
Painting seems to anchor your work, but you also do printmaking—aside from the technical differences, how does your approach to each medium differ? For instance, do you find one is better suited to a particular kind of subject matter or fleshing out certain ideas?
Painting is where I try new ideas. As I was not trained in printmaking, I often have to work hard to get the plate to do what I want. Everything about printmaking feels so much more technical and planned, but that's probably because I don't know what I am doing enough to feel comfortable and go with the flow. One day I will loosen up a little. Maybe. I mean, let's face it—I am not too loosey-goosey of a painter either. :) Anyways, I tend to go to printmaking with ideas I have already made different versions of in paint to see how to work with them in etching.
What's your favorite way to procrastinate in the studio?
Building new organizational systems which invariably fail.
Whens, Hows & Whys
When did you first realize you wanted to become an artist and how’d you get there?
Oh, I decided to become an artist when I was a kid—like everyone else. ;) Around age 11, I became convinced that being an artist was unrealistic and that I would make a better living as a writer. So practical! Now that I'm grown up and know some writers, that strikes me as funny, but I grew up surrounded by books, books, books. I didn't know any working artists—that seemed like a fairy tale life. Eventually, I ended up in an art elective almost by accident in high school. There, I was prodded and pushed by a series of lovely teachers into the direction to seriously pursue art. I went on to study art at the Cleveland Institute of Art. With dedication, perseverance, luck, and a pinch of self-delusion, I just kept going. I think it's easy to give up, and there is virtually no one there to beg you to stay—especially as an early artist. So you take your encouragement where you can and keep trying to get better and figure out what you have to share.
How do you get over creative blocks?
Blocks are a pain for sure. Part of my getting through them is just knowing that it's part of the creative cycle for me. I go through periods where I'm terrified that I will never have two ideas to rub together again. I can't think or plan my way through that—I have to go hands-on and work through blocks by making. Yes, you might end up with some stinkers, but it's the only thing that gets me going again. Start small if that's all you can manage. The important thing is to start something. If my main thing—painting—is dried-up for me, then I try some drawings or sketches. I have a few strategies if I'm stuck in the middle of a painting: taping on bits of paper to imagine changes, using my iPad to quickly try alternative composition ideas, working on something else, or sometimes I have to just walk away for a bit. Go outside! Take a cookie break! Hug a cat!
What do you like best about 20x200?
I like that it makes work more accessible to people more like myself. It can be frustrating to not have anything very affordable to offer. And it's lovely to share work with people who may be excited about it but unable to collect an original.
Which artists' 20x200 collections do you most covet (and why)?
I actually have a couple of the Matthew Hoffman text pieces. I keep looking at and being tempted by Martha Rich's Stop Talking piece. Overall though, I most covet Jason Polan's collection because, well, we spoke a few times over email and I found him so extraordinary and open and fun. I was sad I never got the chance to meet him. I love the energy, humor, and dedication of his work. I'm glad it is still available to the world.
Why do you think it's important to have a dedicated work space for your art? What advice would you give to artists looking to build a creative work space?
I used to have a studio space right in my apartment. That works great for some people, but getting a little distance was good for my mental health, the mess, and escaping the refrigerator full of snacks. Of course, I didn't get that much distance because I don't know how to drive, and someone has to dote on the cats all day, so a short commute downstairs works for my cat bosses and me. I guess my advice would be to worry more about making your workspace work for you instead of trying to adhere to some kind of ideal. Some people thrive on working around people while daily interaction shrivels other people. Some people need space to think big and other people are cozy and secure in a smaller spot. I didn't even have furniture in my studio for the longest time until my knees couldn't take it anymore and storage became a problem. To begin, all you need is yourself (yes, you have to go in there), your art and art tools, and a few comforts that will keep you there working. I enjoy a saucy electric teapot, a well-fitting chair, and an iPad which will inevitably shatter. There was a time when I kept a large pillow for thinking naps in my studio. I find limiting overly distracting things helps, but do what makes you feel good and gets you working.
The 411 on Amy Casey
Amy Casey has exhibited her paintings nationally with solo shows in Cleveland, Chicago, San Francisco, Provincetown, New York City, Los Angeles and Homer, Alaska. She also makes etchings, primarily at Zygote Press in Cleveland. She has been awarded three Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Awards, the Cleveland Arts Prize and a grant through CPAC's Creative Workforce Fellowship program. Represented by Zg Gallery in Chicago, and Michael Foley in New York, Casey resides in a crooked little blue house in Cleveland where she is a full time artist and a part time cat hugger.
