10 January 2026
Visited Sebastián's studio, brought him one of the hand-drip coffee bags Yena's father makes. This one was an Ethiopia Geisha with a Manet on the packaging (Woman Reading, 1880-82). When I handed it over, Sebastián immediately placed it among the other objects on one of the still life surfaces in his space. I knew from researching his work and seeing his current show (Lustre at Interval Clerkenwell; if you're reading this you should go see it) that he paints master paintings into his compositions, but it hadn't occurred to me that I was literally handing him a mini master painting. So that was a lovely synchronicity. But I mention it because it speaks to what I feel is the main thing I learned from him, which is how to create a studio that is a self-regenerating ecosystem. If it comes into his space, it becomes part of its orbit and nourishment. I had the sense in there that everything in the space was vital, alive, able to be used at a moment's notice. Which aligns with how he described looking and working with attention and openness, which includes an openness to freely modulating his process through any number of variables including light, objects, and reference works. At risk of sounding dramatic, coming face to face with a world built out so fully altered my thinking around my own practice pretty significantly in that as soon as I left his space, I began to think more carefully about what it is that I don't have to think about at all (or what is lodged at my core). Into my head then popped William Eggleston's famous Greenwood, Mississippi work (1971, the one of the light bulb on a red ceiling). There's a similar bulb in the room at my new flat. It has always been about light (and looking democratically), I think.