Artist Residencies — katy ann fox

From April 15 - May 15 2024, I lived in Krakow, Poland. Lucyna Shefter of Shefter Gallery facilitated the residency, curated a chunk of my time, and introduced me to outstanding individuals who greatly enriched my experience. I spent a bunch of time filing through my own thoughts, witnessing a young nation from the perspective of the young university students, artists and a tour guide, anchored, devoted and actively working through their individual lives in this city of cafes, gentle culture, creativity and epic history. Krakow is a tourist destination due to European history, beautiful architecture, safe city streets, diverse cuisine and its surrounding landscape. I both loved and hated it. Spending solitary time in a place drastically different from the life I have built gave perspective, reassurance, discomfort, appreciation, you know, all those classic things we need in order to grow as humans and appreciate things different from ourselves. My beloved Jackson Hole charges with great masculine energy from both the people and the craggy granite landforms. It is epically beautiful, uncomfortably wealthy, possesses a checklist of physical expectations and accomplishments, ranks both extreme and stunted on the emotional spectrum, and hosts a great sense of loyalty and pride among anyone who calls it their home. This loyalty and pride in place translated, but nothing else. The Polish language is complex and unrelated to my simple knowledge of solely English, the Polish people were so gentle and calm and well behaved and the art was big and emotional and wild and raunchy and unlike anything I have ever had interest in creating. I felt so lucky to be there, to be treated so kindly, to have the amazing conversations with such beautifully emotionally developed and thoughtful people, to spend enough time there to really feel the slower pace, emphasis on literature and dance and art and human expression. But I greatly missed home the whole time I was there. I walked the paths along the river most nights and watched people picnic, stroll, talk quietly, sip slowly, rollerblade, and authentically live in the city. I purchased art supplies to make as much art as possible in the two week window I had for oil painting and learned them and used them to make some pieces I’m really glad I made. I tried to understand the place, why I was there, how it felt for me, how it felt for people who actually lived there and I just was. I journaled every day and nearly filled a book. I may go back and read it, I may share it, but until I decide, I’m just glad I did.

People were not bothered or mad I was touring their home city. Despite my absolute cluelessness, I was not in their way or annoying to them, though I obviously radiated my own brand of frizzy haired, overly optimistic, tall girl energy. It didn’t seem to be super obvious I was American and I spoke very infrequently. English is the common language that seems to allow European commerce in Krakow so that was very accommodating for me. It was lovely, it was hard. I’ll go to the grave grateful for this time.

From April 11 - May 11, 2022 I attended an artist residency in the Central Nevada ghost town of Goldfield, Nevada. There are thousands of piles, remnants, and stories to inspire paintings in this windblown and wonderful town. Residency housing is a gloriously converted school bus parked behind the Downer Bros. Assay office on Columbia Street across Highway 95 from the Goldfield Hotel. Steve Roberts’ vision, support of the Arts, generosity and energy has made this residency happen for me.

In 2010, I was caught off guard by the sight of the Goldfield Hotel and I have loved it ever since. My mother only asked me one time what my plans were after I graduated from the Academy of Art in San Francisco. I filled her in, I would be applying to compete in Survivor, win, and purchase the Goldfield Hotel to live out my dreams. That was 12 years ago, but my dreams of Goldfield have just been realized, tho a bit differently, I lived a month in the dusty, historic, haunted town. I witnessed life so different than my own, listened to perspectives, wandered up hills, shared encouragement to the wonderful dreamers I met in town and I painted. I painted a lot and I used all the thread I brought for my sewing machine and I made books.

Below is a collection of oil paintings inspired by Goldfield’s remnants of dreams and beautiful evidence of mother nature’s strength…and color….always color.

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