Rachel stands in front of two large pieces of her artwork.

In the studio w/ Rachel Crummey

“Drawing is like breathing, painting is like
using the breath to fuel movement.”

Tell us about your process

I never know where to start with this question so I'll provide an anecdote instead. I bought a connect the dots puzzle book last year to bring to a cottage. The dots are supposed to turn into images, like hands chopping vegetables, a ferris wheel, a bunny rabbit, it's a whole random assortment. Each one is titled with a cheesy pun. Instead of following the numbered scheme I intuitively connected the dots in my own way so they became abstract webs, as if the thing had been haphazardly wrapped in thread. It was a very stoner thing to do though I was sober at the time. I think this has something to say about how my brain works.

An abstract painting with pink and purple tones.


“Spending time quietly observing my mind and body has been really humbling.”

Rachel stands in her studio, flipping through her sketchbook.

 What's the relationship between your drawing and painting practice?

Drawing is like breathing, painting is like using the breath to fuel movement. Drawing is sufficient in and of itself, but painting adds exciting possibilities.  

How do you channel that energy into your work?

Everything begins with drawing. The momentum from that activity becomes fodder for painting ideas. There's a lot of sitting around staring into space and then bursts of quick activity once an idea presents itself.
Several works in progress sit atop a table in the studio.
Do the patterns or similar visual elements reflect something specific?
 
I don't usually draw or paint from reference images. Although recently I took a bunch of images out of the Toronto Reference Library's (amazing) image collection because I wanted to study shells. I was interested in the Golden Ratio and how it manifests in physical forms.
 
How do you know when you're done with a piece?
 
It's very tricky to know. I often overwork things. It's helpful to put work away for a few months and then pull it back out; or see it in a different context, outside of the studio.
 
You recently spent time at the Toronto Zen Centre, how does that experience support your practice?
 
It's absolutely essential. Spending time quietly observing my mind and body has been really humbling. We're all basically hot messes when it comes down to it, but my time practicing Zen (and Vipassana) meditation has generated some insight and compassion into the bewilderment. I think originally I wanted the bewilderment to go away, but over time I realized it's more about learning to live with it, even enjoy it sometimes.
A shelf in Rachel's studio shows books, art supplies, and a plant.
Do you collect art? How do you go about it and what does your collection include?

I've been lucky to trade with a few artist friends, so that's how my collection began. Recently I took the plunge and purchased a couple of things for the first time. I bought a drawing by Anton Cetin from Peter Estey Fine Art, and I bought a ceramic piece that Julie Moon made for this year's Edition (the artist book/multiples fair that accompanies Art Toronto).
 
What does art mean to you?
 
Impossible to answer. A friend recommended John Dewey's Art as Experience to me recently, a book based on a lecture he gave at Harvard in the 1930's; his perspective really resonates, which is essentially that art is an outgrowth of our response to life, as lived through sensing bodies.
Colorful, abstract art pieces hang on the wall of the studio.
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