Artist statement: In the simplest terms, my work demonstrates space through monochromatic light. One world receives light from another. The kind of space I choose to represent is a combination of the observed natural world and the domestic world. From the indoor perspective, nature is seen through a filter, commonly a window. The intersection of household and nature is a relationship I re-interpret with each painting. The scene that provides light is often abstracted due to the overpowering brightness. This abstraction provides a rich contrast to the crisp representation of the interior. Ultimately, the spaces I make are calm and contemplative. Most viewers use similar terms when speaking about the paintings. The power of an image to give such an experience is something I will continue to explore in my work.

Bio: Maria Stabio's work stems from a fascination with the beautifully mundane. From an early age, she painted and drew anything from her pet bird to a friend's portrait. Not until high school did she enroll in formal art classes, the catalyst for her heightened perception. Unsure of the kind of art she would practice, Maria enrolled in Boston University's College of Fine Arts program. After the required two years of core training, she decided to major in Painting. She also nursed a strong interest in photography, taking any class available and working in jobs related to the field, learning design skills along the way. During her junior year, she traveled to Venice, Italy for a semester and gained a profound appreciation for Renaissance art. During her final year, she began to unify interests, using photographs she had taken as a reference for her paintings. The first inspirational setting came from a short period of house sitting for photographer Alex MacLean in Lincoln, MA. Upon returning, she used these images to compose her first four paintings of this collection. Today, she continues to experiment with this method, using her camera like a sketchbook of sorts. Currently, she rents a small studio space in San Francisco, her hometown, and works at a commercial photography studio as a digital artist. Her local achievements include the group show Art Soup 16 as well as a group showing at Aspect Gallery in San Francisco. Online, she has been featured at Glassbottled.com (now defunct) and Upstream People Gallery. Publications include Redivider in Boston, MA and Photographer's Forum Best of College Photography 2007 in Santa Barbara, CA.

Interview

What first struck me about these paintings was how well they seemed to capture a sense of abandonment. By presenting domestic scenes empty of people, especially through the muted palette you've chosen, the home seems to be appealing for what isn't there. After that initial reaction, it was quite interesting to learn that these paintings were derived from photos taken while you were house sitting. How did the experience of being alone in someone else's home inspire you to begin this series?

At that time, I was immersed in an urban, social lifestyle. The appeal began to wear thin during my senior year. Alex's home provided a stark contrast to my familiar landscape. Driving to Lincoln was a half-hour transition that took me from the muddiness of Allston to the speedy freeway, into a forested neighborhood and down an isolated road, with each home obscured by thick forest. The experience of this family's domestic environment had a transformative effect on me. House sitting is a bit like being both an observer and a participant in someone else's life. Alex's home was rich in character, showing its influence on the residents and vice-versa. I had the unique experience of practicing the resident's routine along with the freshness that objectivity brings to everyday experience. The solitude sharpened my senses, allowing the home's natural surroundings to penetrate. I had never felt so close to nature while indoors. The beauty and power of this experience moved me to document it in camera and later translate it into paint.

In your artist statement, you distinguish between the natural world and the domestic spaces we create within it, stating that you often abstract the former to provide contrast to the latter. In "Over," for example, this abstraction is carried out to the point where the window almost appears soaped over. What sort of metaphors or questions are you posing by doing this?

The interior represents the interior self, the sole being. Our minds are full of floating thoughts; those could be compared to the objects that populate the interiors. The natural light is what brings context to these objects; it illustrates them. I like to think of the light as a divine force. In this sense, what is outside creates the inside. In the case of "Over", the light is especially strong, emphasizing the interior even more. Ultimately, I look to the natural light as an inspirational force bringing the balance and setting the mood for each piece.

As far as technique goes, could you discuss some of the methods and tools behind these paintings?

I start with a cradled wood panel, primed with gesso. From there, I make a preliminary drawing in charcoal, knowing that I'll have to modify its accuracy later. After the underpainting is dry, I start to dig into the values and shapes, bringing a rough sense of light to the image. Finally, I make small refinements that give the textures and reflections life. As far as tools, I only use three paints: black, white, and raw sienna. Masking tape is also a necessity.

The environment in which artists create can offer some valuable insights. Could you give readers a brief 'tour' of your studio and explain how you manage your time there?

My studio is in a building with many other artists. Because some of the spaces are open, like mine, there is a nice social atmosphere. This provides a great opportunity to receive support and feedback from others. I've found this to be extremely helpful, especially right out of art school. After leaving the academic scene, I think it might be difficult for me to work in an isolated setting.

When I first walk into my studio, I observe the painting for about 20 minutes with fresh eyes. This period is crucial in setting the stage for the rest of the session, because it helps prevent snap decisions that could negatively affect the painting. If I decide what I want to work on in the first 20 minutes, I proceed smoothly. When I complete that chunk of work, I step back again and decide what to do next.

Judging from your bio, it seems as though you experienced an important artistic discovery in high school. Could you share a little bit about that time and how you decided to pursue art as a vocation?

Actually, I was not sure that I wanted to be an artist at that time. High school was the time when I felt the least confident in my academic abilities. I found that I wasn't interested in anything I was learning. When I started taking art classes, I found the passion I had lacked for all other subjects. The way I began to see the world around me changed, based on simple drawing and painting lessons. As a senior, I followed my instincts and decided to apply to art schools purely based on the fact that I had some talent. It was not until I reached college that I began to experience the full joy of creating.

What were some of the most valuable lessons you learned while studying art in college?

Studying at BU was the best academic experience I've ever had. There are so many valuable lessons; I'm not quite sure how to summarize them best. In general, the most important lessons were abstract, philosophical, and not at all based on factual skill and knowledge. Ambiguity was one of them, in the sense that creating is very much an individualized process. There is no way to answer a young artist's questions about "what is good art", or "why does this not work as an image" because he or she is often looking for a solid logical answer. The truth is that very few of these questions can be addressed in that way because making art is akin to developing an honest intuition about what works and what doesn't. All a teacher can do is respond with his or her own hunch, which may mean that a student receives many different opinions about the work. It is the student's prerogative to listen based on his or her own intuition. Listening is an important lesson; it is one we are reminded of constantly, but some don't seem to absorb it. My classmates that had the roughest time were often the ones that refused to listen to feedback. It's not easy, and some of it may be invalid. Critiques are difficult in any circumstance and are even more so when one's pride gets in the way.

What have you learned since, now that you're out of school and creating full-time?

Since I've graduated, the most difficult part of painting has been sustaining the motivation to paint. Once I'm at my studio, I get a lot of work done, but having the time to be there is difficult. Also, a few months ago, I started publicizing my work through open studios, and applying for galleries and competitions. It's difficult to maintain optimism in the face of a missed opportunity. I've learned that I have to keep pushing myself towards working. I hope that as long as I keep painting, the rest will follow.

In your bio, you mention you're also a photographer, that you use your camera as a sketchbook for your paintings. In this issue we've seen how your photography has influenced your painting, but how has your painting changed the way you approach photography?

Currently, photography is not my strongest skill. That was the wake-up call I received from painting these images and seeing the comparison. When I first started exploring photography, I was going through a difficult period with painting. I felt that I had little skill and did not derive much enjoyment from the practice. Photography gave me the confidence in my ability to make images again. Of course, that fed back into my painting, which is where I am currently. Now I have a much more objective view of my photos, that they are not at all perfect, but I just enjoy them so much. My process is not labored, I am happy with the result as is. Photography is something I turn to as a release of pressure I sometimes build up from painting.

As you continue to explore the marriage of these two media, do you see yourself migrating toward hyperrealism or deviating more and more from the source photograph?

I will definitely continue to explore this subject further. However, I notice that my work has a strong graphic quality, and it is continuing in that direction. If I had to pick, I'd say it would become more abstract. I'm experimenting with a different size. All of these paintings so far are three by four feet; I just finished one that was a foot by a foot. I'm also starting on two other small ones. That could take my work in a different direction, although I'm not sure where yet.

Who are some of the visual artists creating today whose work you most admire? Why?

I must confess that I'm not as in touch with young contemporary art as I'd like. A lot of the artists I admire are much older, or they have passed. To name a few painters and sculptors, Richard Diebenkorn, Anselem Kiefer, Kiki Smith, and Gerhard Richter. Most seem to think that my work is close to Richter's because he's painted in black and white too. And he's done some photorealism, although the subject matter is different. I find the magic of Richter's painting to be in his value structures. The first time I saw his work was black and white reproductions of some of his color paintings. I could have sworn they were painted in black and white; the light just jumped off the page. The color is so beautiful to me because of his sensitivity to it as light, to create depth and space. Personally, I have a hard time relating to paintings that treat color more like candy for the eye, which can be very common. The other artists I've mentioned are powerfully in control of the mood factor. Their art has the ability to place viewers in a space and time, immersing them in an emotion. In that way, these artists have achieved what I'd like to do one day. As far as photographers, Evelyn Hofer's work is the most beautiful color photography I've ever seen. If I were to paint in color, I'd want my color to look just like hers.

Given the recent drop-off in philanthropy and government support of the arts, its clear artists will have to make some adjustments. Aside from creation, what are some of the ways artists can help keep art afloat in this poor economy?

Believe me, I wish I had the answer to that. Lately I've been fearful of losing my job, which is directly related to the stability of some major retailers. Budget cuts and cancelled photo shoots are becoming more frequent news at the photography studio where I work. I can't imagine being a full time artist in times like this, but I may become one if I get laid off. The only thing I can think of is the persuasion of community. Ultimately, human kind is so much more interconnected than we believe. If artists take care of one another, everyone will benefit. Support does not have to be monetary, but it can be provided though counsel, critique, or word of mouth recommendation. Sites like Ambush Arts are definitely a great way of fostering supportive online artist communities.