The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.
Fellowships for artists, as well as practitioners in the arts (e.g., architects) and scholars in the humanities, have focused on Rome for centuries. Villa Medici, established as a center for European culture in 1576, was purchased by Napoleon Bonaparte in 1806 to promote French-Italian artistic alliances. Today, under the auspices of the French Academy in Rome, Villa Medici hosts artists, architects, writers, musicians, filmmakers, and scholars for year-long residencies.1
The American Academy in Rome began with the combination of the American School of Architecture and the American School of Classical Studies in Rome in 1911. Rome was chosen because “with the architectural and sculptural monuments and mural paintings, its galleries filled with the chef d’oeuvres of every epoch, no other city offers such a field for study or an atmosphere so replete with precedents.”2 The prestigious Rome Prize is awarded to thirty American artists and scholars each year.
Understandably, the experience of a Roman residency in the early part of the twentieth century was different than one in the twenty-first. Historic Italian cities and destinations throughout Europe are dealing with an overwhelming upsurge in tourism, such that the infrastructure can’t cope, and the desirable sites to see are in jeopardy. For example, a British fitness instructor was recorded on camera while carving names into a wall of the Colosseum. His excuse was that he didn’t realize the age of the structure.3
Yet despite the crowds and the sometimes unfathomable behavior of sightseers, the opportunity of a residency—particularly one that carries prestige and enhances a curriculum vitae—is still worth pursuing. Canadian ceramic artist Rochelle Chinnery partook of a C.R.E.T.A. Rome residency in 2023 and, in recounting her experience, provides valuable advice to anyone thinking of submitting an application.
Crossing the Rubicon
C.R.E.T.A. Rome (C.R.E.T.A. stands for Ceramics, Residencies, Exhibitions, Teaching, and the Arts) was established in 2012 by Italian artist Paolo Porelli and American art historian Lori-Ann Touchette. It is located in the center of the city, close to the Capitoline Hill and the Jewish quarter. Artists are provided with a semi-private, equipped studio and apartment-style housing within walking distance of the workspace. In 2023, the cost for a one-month residency was $2699 (€2500). Porelli and Touchette believe that “Total immersion in Roman culture, both past and present, is an experience that transforms the work of artists, whether it be walking from their apartments to the studio or exploring the many archaeological sites, churches, and museums of the eternal city and beyond.”4
Chinnery traveled from Hornby Island, a small Gulf Island off the coast of British Columbia, to Rome in September/October 2023. Hornby has about 1200 permanent residents (this expands to 10,000 during summer), whereas Rome’s population in that year was 4.4 million, onto which 2 million tourists descended. A contrast in human density was expected—Chinnery had been to Rome on five previous occasions—but the changes since even her last visit in 2019 were immediately apparent. On arrival at Leonardo da Vinci airport, she noticed “everyone was greeting each other at a distance. The Italians don’t kiss anymore.” The national habit of greeting someone with a kiss on each cheek had explicably disappeared during the Covid-19 pandemic, but as a marker of being in Rome its absence was an indication of difference.
Chinnery’s apartment in a monastery was a 45-minute walk to work. She took this opportunity to explore the streets, architecture, shops, and enclaves in the historic center of the city. She said, “I went into every church I came across,” all of which were memorable and visually stunning. Fortunately, the out-of-the-way basilicas and chapels were free of crowds of selfie-stick-wielding tourists, yet the sensory overload of being in a city that is itself a living museum was both a blessing and a curse. “As beautiful as it was and as magnificent as it was, the psychological navigation of going to do a residency was overwhelming. I think it was post-Covid. Parachuting into a place like Rome, versus the isolation of Horny Island—the vibe was overwhelming.”
Chinnery began to feel ungrounded: the Rome she knew eluded her. She speaks Italian well enough to have a conversation, yet Italian shopkeepers and residents wanted to speak English. It seemed the epithet “when in Rome do as the Romans do” no longer applied. Yes, the Romans wanted to practice new language skills but the pervasive presence of English as the lingua franca was disconcerting. In addition, where were the Romans? Many have been displaced by high costs and depleted housing stocks as a result of the building of luxury hotels and the conversion of apartments to Airbnbs. Those two million visitors have to sleep somewhere! And, the piazzas were crowded with tour groups of, say, one hundred people, all tuned into their guide by means of headsets. Peremptory glimpses of one site, documented by a quick selfie, followed by the same at the next site, were further evidence of the need to ask: where am I and what am I doing here?
The emotional and psychic toll of unsettlement threatened to jeopardize focus on the work that Chinnery came to C.R.E.T.A. to do. At the ten-day point of the seven-week sojourn, she thought she should get on a plane and abandon the residency. Instead, she picked up the Irish paper porcelain on her bench in the studio and began its manipulation. Reflecting back, she says, “I was thinking with my hands. Then I was in control, I could self-regulate. I could be patient but still take in the injustice [to a beloved city] without taking it on as my responsibility.”
Fiddling While Rome Burns
Chinnery has had a lifelong affinity with the natural world. In a paper resulting from her master of arts thesis, Idioms of an Ecological Self, she describes her childhood in Montreal where “muddy puddles filled with tadpoles in the spring,” “blue chicory flowers lined roadsides in late summer,” and “milkweed pods released battalions of silk-topped seeds into the wind” in the fall.5 Now residing on a west coast island, she is attuned to her oceanic surroundings and pays attention to the connections amongst nature, the self, and creativity. Her intention for the C.R.E.T.A. residency was to move away from her functional work, through which she earns a living, to experiment with clay as a means of ecological expression: “I proposed a small series of sculptures responding to ideas of water, fluidity, and the way we resonate with the environment. It was supposed to be the physical expression of my MA thesis about craft practice, allowing us to become more ecologically intuitive.”
An immediate constraint was the cost of materials: the anticipated small series of sculptures became a series of small sculptures. Molding the paper clay in her fingers, Chinnery formed tiny flower-like shapes that she realized were akin to a holdfast, a marine term for the root structure by which kelp and other aquatic vegetation attach to rocks. The notion of holdfast became a metaphor for anchoring the maker to the experience of living and working in Rome, as well as connecting to her nature-influenced life on Hornby. In addition, the process itself exemplified a holdfast: the dry paper porcelain could be added to over time, symbolizing growth. “The material itself led to the construction of the feeling. Individual pieces were made over two weeks. The intensity of focus was on a very small thing. It fed me psychologically, emotionally, and physically.”
The subsequent sense of grounding and control generated by the ceramics enabled venturing widely outside the studio. “I would work for a few hours, take a walk, work for a few hours, go out exploring, work until suppertime, then walk home a different route each day.” In her wanderings, Chinnery found a textile shop where she purchased offcuts of silk, thread, and pearls. These, along with gilt and patches of embroidery, were sparingly applied to the clay forms, and while they might seem alien, any close look into tidal pools and briny crevices will confirm the presence of fiber tendrils, opalescent reflections, and beads of matter. Chinnery’s interest in photography allows her to transpose what she sees into what she makes: “Photography helps me develop observational acuity by looking closely at the macro aspects of biotic structures as well as at living systems in the ocean environment where I live.”6
The Holdfast series is a homage to the seashore, rather than a mixed-media collage deriving from an artist’s imagination. Observing the entirety of the series, one can’t help but think of another aspect of growth: the pearl that evolves from a single grain of sand. The clay objects replicate oyster shells with a baby blue interior and bleached white outside. The embellishment nests inside, generating an illusion of animation, the opposite of a lifeless seashell.
Chinnery shared her studio with Rebecca Ramsay, a Canadian MFA student whose Rome project was the completion of her degree in sculpture. Chinnery appreciated Ramsay’s commitment to working—no radio, music, or chitchat interfered with concentration—and this supportive atmosphere fostered the creation of about 30 Holdfast objects. Lori-Ann Touchette’s knowledge of Roman art history was invaluable in accessing the city’s treasures, but each exposure to the reality of Rome required psychic bracing. Chinnery spoke to many citizens during her walks and was repeatedly told that tourism takes precedence over the folks who live there. Visitors don’t see the glaring social problems—cost of living, racial and demographic inequality—or the mounds of garbage outside the historic center. Chinnery says, “Tourists like the idea of Rome. Places are becoming objects of consumption. It used to be that you would come back different from having experienced a different culture. Now we are loving the world to death.”
Veni, Vidi, Vici
For Rochelle Chinnery, the residency was a positive experience: a new body of work; confirmation that creativity alleviates anxiety and disorientation; a greater understanding of part of her heritage (her mother’s forebears were Greco-Italian). In addition, valuable lessons for other prospective residents are worthy of passing on:
Avoid preconceived expectations about the venue. Be prepared to adapt to the culture, setting, climate, participants, and idiosyncrasies, instead of being blinkered by marketing blurbs and fantasy.
Determine a studio goal, as stated in your residency proposal, but be flexible. This will prevent disappointment if circumstances are not ideal. Creativity is maximized in a condition of flow, not rigid adherence to a plan.
Trust what your body and instincts are saying. These are your most reliable guides.
Take advantage of every opportunity: personal exploration, engagement with locals, partaking of regional customs and food. Visit locales off the beaten track and be your own tour director by doing research and seeking knowledge from residents.
Live in the moment. Despite this being the best advice at any time, it is especially pertinent when dealing with unfamiliar surroundings. Be processual to forestall frustration because things aren’t going your way.
The world is changing rapidly. Accept the multiple dimensions of this fact to ensure contentment with a residency’s reality and outcome.
Whether your road leads to Rome or somewhere equally as exciting, buon viaggio!
the author D Wood has a PhD in design studies and is an independent craft scholar whose artist profiles and exhibition reviews have appeared in an international roster of art and design publications. She is the editor of and contributor to Craft is Political (Bloomsbury, 2021).
1 culturetreasures.com/villa-medici 2 aarome.org/about/history/academy 3 Angela Giuffrida, “Tourist from England accused of carving name in Colosseum says he did not realise its age,” The Guardian, 5 July 2023. 4 “C.R.E.T.A. Rome Mission Statement” from International Residency Program 2020 PowerPoint. 5 Rochelle Chinnery, “Idioms of an Ecological Self,” Journal of Integrated Studies, Vol. 9, No. 1 (2017), jis.athabascau.ca/index.php/jis/article/view/252. 6 Chinnery, “Idioms of an Ecological Self.”
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The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.
Fellowships for artists, as well as practitioners in the arts (e.g., architects) and scholars in the humanities, have focused on Rome for centuries. Villa Medici, established as a center for European culture in 1576, was purchased by Napoleon Bonaparte in 1806 to promote French-Italian artistic alliances. Today, under the auspices of the French Academy in Rome, Villa Medici hosts artists, architects, writers, musicians, filmmakers, and scholars for year-long residencies.1
The American Academy in Rome began with the combination of the American School of Architecture and the American School of Classical Studies in Rome in 1911. Rome was chosen because “with the architectural and sculptural monuments and mural paintings, its galleries filled with the chef d’oeuvres of every epoch, no other city offers such a field for study or an atmosphere so replete with precedents.”2 The prestigious Rome Prize is awarded to thirty American artists and scholars each year.
Understandably, the experience of a Roman residency in the early part of the twentieth century was different than one in the twenty-first. Historic Italian cities and destinations throughout Europe are dealing with an overwhelming upsurge in tourism, such that the infrastructure can’t cope, and the desirable sites to see are in jeopardy. For example, a British fitness instructor was recorded on camera while carving names into a wall of the Colosseum. His excuse was that he didn’t realize the age of the structure.3
Yet despite the crowds and the sometimes unfathomable behavior of sightseers, the opportunity of a residency—particularly one that carries prestige and enhances a curriculum vitae—is still worth pursuing. Canadian ceramic artist Rochelle Chinnery partook of a C.R.E.T.A. Rome residency in 2023 and, in recounting her experience, provides valuable advice to anyone thinking of submitting an application.
Crossing the Rubicon
C.R.E.T.A. Rome (C.R.E.T.A. stands for Ceramics, Residencies, Exhibitions, Teaching, and the Arts) was established in 2012 by Italian artist Paolo Porelli and American art historian Lori-Ann Touchette. It is located in the center of the city, close to the Capitoline Hill and the Jewish quarter. Artists are provided with a semi-private, equipped studio and apartment-style housing within walking distance of the workspace. In 2023, the cost for a one-month residency was $2699 (€2500). Porelli and Touchette believe that “Total immersion in Roman culture, both past and present, is an experience that transforms the work of artists, whether it be walking from their apartments to the studio or exploring the many archaeological sites, churches, and museums of the eternal city and beyond.”4
Chinnery traveled from Hornby Island, a small Gulf Island off the coast of British Columbia, to Rome in September/October 2023. Hornby has about 1200 permanent residents (this expands to 10,000 during summer), whereas Rome’s population in that year was 4.4 million, onto which 2 million tourists descended. A contrast in human density was expected—Chinnery had been to Rome on five previous occasions—but the changes since even her last visit in 2019 were immediately apparent. On arrival at Leonardo da Vinci airport, she noticed “everyone was greeting each other at a distance. The Italians don’t kiss anymore.” The national habit of greeting someone with a kiss on each cheek had explicably disappeared during the Covid-19 pandemic, but as a marker of being in Rome its absence was an indication of difference.
Chinnery began to feel ungrounded: the Rome she knew eluded her. She speaks Italian well enough to have a conversation, yet Italian shopkeepers and residents wanted to speak English. It seemed the epithet “when in Rome do as the Romans do” no longer applied. Yes, the Romans wanted to practice new language skills but the pervasive presence of English as the lingua franca was disconcerting. In addition, where were the Romans? Many have been displaced by high costs and depleted housing stocks as a result of the building of luxury hotels and the conversion of apartments to Airbnbs. Those two million visitors have to sleep somewhere! And, the piazzas were crowded with tour groups of, say, one hundred people, all tuned into their guide by means of headsets. Peremptory glimpses of one site, documented by a quick selfie, followed by the same at the next site, were further evidence of the need to ask: where am I and what am I doing here?
The emotional and psychic toll of unsettlement threatened to jeopardize focus on the work that Chinnery came to C.R.E.T.A. to do. At the ten-day point of the seven-week sojourn, she thought she should get on a plane and abandon the residency. Instead, she picked up the Irish paper porcelain on her bench in the studio and began its manipulation. Reflecting back, she says, “I was thinking with my hands. Then I was in control, I could self-regulate. I could be patient but still take in the injustice [to a beloved city] without taking it on as my responsibility.”
Fiddling While Rome Burns
Chinnery has had a lifelong affinity with the natural world. In a paper resulting from her master of arts thesis, Idioms of an Ecological Self, she describes her childhood in Montreal where “muddy puddles filled with tadpoles in the spring,” “blue chicory flowers lined roadsides in late summer,” and “milkweed pods released battalions of silk-topped seeds into the wind” in the fall.5 Now residing on a west coast island, she is attuned to her oceanic surroundings and pays attention to the connections amongst nature, the self, and creativity. Her intention for the C.R.E.T.A. residency was to move away from her functional work, through which she earns a living, to experiment with clay as a means of ecological expression: “I proposed a small series of sculptures responding to ideas of water, fluidity, and the way we resonate with the environment. It was supposed to be the physical expression of my MA thesis about craft practice, allowing us to become more ecologically intuitive.”
An immediate constraint was the cost of materials: the anticipated small series of sculptures became a series of small sculptures. Molding the paper clay in her fingers, Chinnery formed tiny flower-like shapes that she realized were akin to a holdfast, a marine term for the root structure by which kelp and other aquatic vegetation attach to rocks. The notion of holdfast became a metaphor for anchoring the maker to the experience of living and working in Rome, as well as connecting to her nature-influenced life on Hornby. In addition, the process itself exemplified a holdfast: the dry paper porcelain could be added to over time, symbolizing growth. “The material itself led to the construction of the feeling. Individual pieces were made over two weeks. The intensity of focus was on a very small thing. It fed me psychologically, emotionally, and physically.”
The subsequent sense of grounding and control generated by the ceramics enabled venturing widely outside the studio. “I would work for a few hours, take a walk, work for a few hours, go out exploring, work until suppertime, then walk home a different route each day.” In her wanderings, Chinnery found a textile shop where she purchased offcuts of silk, thread, and pearls. These, along with gilt and patches of embroidery, were sparingly applied to the clay forms, and while they might seem alien, any close look into tidal pools and briny crevices will confirm the presence of fiber tendrils, opalescent reflections, and beads of matter. Chinnery’s interest in photography allows her to transpose what she sees into what she makes: “Photography helps me develop observational acuity by looking closely at the macro aspects of biotic structures as well as at living systems in the ocean environment where I live.”6
The Holdfast series is a homage to the seashore, rather than a mixed-media collage deriving from an artist’s imagination. Observing the entirety of the series, one can’t help but think of another aspect of growth: the pearl that evolves from a single grain of sand. The clay objects replicate oyster shells with a baby blue interior and bleached white outside. The embellishment nests inside, generating an illusion of animation, the opposite of a lifeless seashell.
Chinnery shared her studio with Rebecca Ramsay, a Canadian MFA student whose Rome project was the completion of her degree in sculpture. Chinnery appreciated Ramsay’s commitment to working—no radio, music, or chitchat interfered with concentration—and this supportive atmosphere fostered the creation of about 30 Holdfast objects. Lori-Ann Touchette’s knowledge of Roman art history was invaluable in accessing the city’s treasures, but each exposure to the reality of Rome required psychic bracing. Chinnery spoke to many citizens during her walks and was repeatedly told that tourism takes precedence over the folks who live there. Visitors don’t see the glaring social problems—cost of living, racial and demographic inequality—or the mounds of garbage outside the historic center. Chinnery says, “Tourists like the idea of Rome. Places are becoming objects of consumption. It used to be that you would come back different from having experienced a different culture. Now we are loving the world to death.”
Veni, Vidi, Vici
For Rochelle Chinnery, the residency was a positive experience: a new body of work; confirmation that creativity alleviates anxiety and disorientation; a greater understanding of part of her heritage (her mother’s forebears were Greco-Italian). In addition, valuable lessons for other prospective residents are worthy of passing on:
Whether your road leads to Rome or somewhere equally as exciting, buon viaggio!
the author D Wood has a PhD in design studies and is an independent craft scholar whose artist profiles and exhibition reviews have appeared in an international roster of art and design publications. She is the editor of and contributor to Craft is Political (Bloomsbury, 2021).
1 culturetreasures.com/villa-medici
2 aarome.org/about/history/academy
3 Angela Giuffrida, “Tourist from England accused of carving name in Colosseum says he did not realise its age,” The Guardian, 5 July 2023.
4 “C.R.E.T.A. Rome Mission Statement” from International Residency Program 2020 PowerPoint.
5 Rochelle Chinnery, “Idioms of an Ecological Self,” Journal of Integrated Studies, Vol. 9, No. 1 (2017), jis.athabascau.ca/index.php/jis/article/view/252.
6 Chinnery, “Idioms of an Ecological Self.”
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