Today we are pleased to take a peak inside of the work space of Wendi Schneider.
Thank you Wendi for sharing it with us.
Please tell us about your work space.
I have two dedicated workspaces —my office on one side of the living room and my studio on the other. The studio was originally an exterior porch on our 1935 Tudor, enclosed with skylights and windows long before we bought the house in 1996. It was always a central gathering space.
When I began working with gold leaf in 2012 and transitioned away from my last large commercial role of photography, design, and art direction, I took over the room. In the 1990s, I had the incredible opportunity to work with the gifted designer, editor, and author Tricia Foley while freelancing for Victoria magazine. Her approach to restrained, tonal interiors stayed with me—spaces composed in ivory where light becomes the primary element. That sensibility informed the studio, which I wanted to feel unified and serene.
The original red flagstone floor was buckled and cracked, so I had it leveled with concrete. We attempted several stains, but each was too dark. In the end, the craftsman mixed in some of my wall paint. It took months to fully cure.
I had hoped for a more varied, marbled surface for photographing from above, but the result is more subtle and mottled. Still, it recalls, in a distant way, the worn wooden studio floors from my time at Newcomb—though without their accumulated, Pollock-like patina. It holds a more understated presence.
I began with one table with two drawers and a bottom shelf. Then, over the years, in three phases, our dear friend Al Mowrer built the storage and work spaces. A few years ago, my sweet husband drywalled over a section of the brick and built the adjustable shelves, which work as temporary storage and extra easel space.
Please click on images for a different view.
What objects of inspiration do you have in your space?
My office and home include both my own work and pieces from my collection of turn-of-the-twentieth-century photographs and objects. Most of the collection is kept in portfolios, but a number of works remain on view. These include photographs by Edward Steichen, Alfred Stieglitz, Gertrude Käsebier, Adolph de Meyer, Alvin Langdon Coburn, Josef Sudek, Constant Puyo, and Anne Brigman. Their attention to atmosphere over description continues to shape how I see—how an image can be felt as much as it is observed.
I also keep an inspiration board that I made decades ago. It has changed very little over time, though I occasionally add a postcard or small image. It serves more as a point of continuity than an active reference.
Do you have any favorite tools in your work space?
I treasure my mother’s easel—it may have belonged to my grandmother before her. Both painted in oils when I was young. The easel has moved with me from Memphis to New Orleans, then to New York, and finally to Denver in 1994. When I became pregnant with our son, I stopped painting on my darkroom prints with oils, as I didn’t want to work in protective gear. For many years, it functioned primarily as a place to hold works in progress or completed pieces. Several years ago, when I began to have issues with degeneration in my neck, I returned to the easel for gilding so I could work upright rather than leaning over a table. It again became an important part of my process.
I also had a round table that rotated so I could follow the light. It’s now in storage due to space constraints, but it was central to my still life work during my editorial and advertising years. More recently, I purchased a smaller rotating table on wheels, which I plan to use to photograph china, textiles, and other turn-of-the-century objects as I begin to deaccession parts of my collection. Like many artists, I often work wherever space is available—using foam core on existing surfaces and taking over the dining room table when needed.
Does your work space influence your work?
Yes, though not overtly. The restraint of the space—the limited palette and the quality of the light—creates a kind of stillness that encourages a focused, attentive way of working and supports a sensitivity to small shifts in light, color, and tone. I work best when it is relatively neat, though it’s a dance to keep it that way. I become anxious with too much mess or stimulation.
I don’t often consciously create work informed by specific images in my collection, but I’m undeniably influenced by those images. However, my latest series, Held Light, was informed in part by the Venice works of Steichen, Stieglitz, and Coburn. The colors are mostly muted and the tonalities softened.
If there is one thing you could change, what would it be?
More space. I would like to have room for a larger printer and larger flat files.
How do you keep track of your ideas?
I keep a simple to-do list for deadlines and thoughts, but mostly I work intuitively. I tend to follow what feels most present. Some ideas are realized immediately, while others fall away or return later in a different form. I’ve worked this way since opening my business in New York in 1988. It’s a rhythm I trust, though my pace has slowed in recent years.
Any advice for someone thinking about adding a work space or studio?
Start simply and allow the space to evolve over time. It doesn’t need to be fully resolved at the outset. Pay close attention to light—how it moves through the space and how it changes throughout the day. That may have a profound impact on how you work. Most importantly, create a space that feels comfortable and inviting.
Thank you Wendi.
To learn more about the work of Wendi Schneider please click on her name.