Welcome to the 347th installment of A View From the Easel, the series in which artists reflect on their workspaces. This week, Shahryar Nashat makes sculptures to the sound of Kelis’s “Milkshake” and tests out “a nautical glue the color of honey.”
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Shahryar Nashat is based in Asnières-sur-Seine, France. He has been working in the space since this September, marking three years there. The studio is similar to his former one in Glendale, California, though the trip to get there feels entirely different: then, he drove through Laurel Canyon to the 101 and east on the 134 into Glendale, passing through several versions of Los Angeles before arriving. Now, from the 11th in Paris, he heads north on two wheels through the 18th via République, watching the city narrow until he crosses the Seine. Asnières-sur-Seine, just north of Paris, is also home to one of the world’s first pet cemeteries, le Cimetière des Chiens et Autres Animaux Domestiques.
Routine helps him keep the days organized and the work moving when the direction is still unclear. The studio is always stocked with coffee, beer, tequila, and Swiss chocolate called Ragusa, which he notes is “so close to a palindrome it hurts.” Music is nearly always playing, with Badalamenti’s Twin Peaks score reserved for difficult mold-making sessions. Lately, he has been listening to ’90s music, including Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill, Aaliyah, and Kelis: “I can teach you, but I have to charge.”
For Nashat, the studio shapes the work, but inspiration does not begin there. He says the essentials are the right tools, a good night’s sleep, and light. What he misses from his West Coast days is the bright sunlight for forensic examinations and the roll-up gate, whose lowering was a daily ritual marking the end of the day, whether it was a good one or, as he puts it, if it all went to shite. He also shares the building with a handful of other artists, including his friend Cooper Jacoby, and the two often have coffee and compare notes on silicone cure times.
Among the things he loves most about the space is its proximity to Nouilles Fraîches Tibétaines on avenue Laurent Cély, which he praises for being fresh, homemade, and delicious, with the same satisfaction as a burrito from El Sauz Tacos with Gabriel at the corner of Chevy Chase and San Fernando Road. As for what he would change, he says only that he would like it to be a little less warm in summer and a little less cold in winter. His favorite local museum is the Gustave Moreau Museum, which he describes as former studio, now museum, or mausoleum — all in one. He calls it absurd, with a two-story main gallery, a huge skylight, and walls covered edge to edge with paintings and drawings, and notes that André Breton called it the most moving of all museums. When it comes to materials, he favors papier-mâché, “a nautical glue the color of honey,” Fabrican, the spray-on fabric he used to “dress” the Mothers sculptures now on view at Gladstone on 64th Street in Manhattan, and any acrylic by Golden.
