We’re always curious about what goes on behind closed doors. But especially in an artist’s studio. Below, Jo Rosenthal speaks to a selection of artists who live and work off the beaten path and learns how their new neighbourhoods are shaping their practices.
New York City’s art scene is always getting a makeover, far from the usual hotspots in Chelsea and Tribeca. In vibrant neighborhoods like Bushwick and the South Bronx, artists are setting up hidden studios, finding sanctuary in these unexpected places. These spaces offer the perfect balance of ambiance and solitude, fostering creativity without the distractions of busier districts. While the buzz of the Lower East Side is magnetic, it often feels like stepping into an ongoing spectacle, driving artists to seek quieter, more focused environments for their work.
Off the beaten path, artists are not just finding quiet—they’re becoming part of communities that thrive on mutual support and collaboration. This shift to more personal and intimate spaces is changing where art is made and how it’s created, enabling deeper exploration and innovation away from the mainstream’s gaze. The move toward these less popular yet culturally rich neighborhoods is crafting a new chapter in NYC’s artistic narrative, emphasizing a deeper, more introspective approach to art.
If you’re an artist, you can create and inspire in any environment, no matter where you are in the city. So we sat down with some of New York’s brightest talents to ask them why they prefer a more hidden oasis to the drama of it all. Here’s what Interlude, Caroline Zimbalist, Charles Caesar, and Zoë Argires have to say:
Describe the ambiance of your studio and how it reflects or inspires what you create.
Interlude: We loved the space at first sight because of the natural light and energetic atmosphere it creates. We also find it motivating to be in a building surrounded by other artists and designers. In our studio, we like a relaxed ambience while working and usually have our music going, both of which come through in the clothes. We listen to a lot of Ray of Light Madonna and POiSON GiRLFRiEND.
Caroline Zimbalist: Shelves lined with jars of pigments, bioplastic samples, and unusual textures sit alongside pots, pans, and precision tools. Light streams through large windows, illuminating my workspace that’s dotted with sketches, prototypes, and sculptures in progress. There’s always an energy where raw materials form and transform into something new. This balance of order and chaos in my studios often inspires my work.
Charles Caesar: My studio is pretty organized. I like seeing everything in its place when not in use. There’s always music if I’m editing. There’s a pin-up board for ideas that I let run wild. If I’m not working on a deadline, I like to have friends and subjects drop by all the time. The studio has inspired my art by allowing projects and the physical space to stay in progress and allowing the subjects’ space to move freely during photography sessions. Since gaining access to studio space, it’s been a profound privilege, and I do my thing as often as possible.
Zoë Argires: I live in my studio, which has tall ceilings, big windows, few neighbors, and is cheap. My bed folds up into the wall, and I don’t have a shower. I have so much space that I can work on 5,000 paintings simultaneously. You can smoke cigarettes in there. It’s a dream studio where I feel complete privacy and liberation.
Can you describe the lifecycle of one of your pieces, from the initial spark of inspiration to the final product?
Interlude: The first piece that comes to mind is the Lumina Sweater. We initially had different yarns – we had our hearts set on a bright, shocking blue, but after days of swatching, it wasn’t fitting with the collection. A week before our photoshoot, we decided to scrap the idea and purchase new yarns. Willard mentioned wanting to experiment with bias knits, and Belinda pushed for the idea to be part of our collection. That decision sparked something new and exciting, which became the labor-intensive Lumina Sweater. And bias knits are now our favorite that we hope to expand upon.
CZ: I sketch ideas, then experiment with biomaterials. I think about color and texture a lot.
Each stage of creation is deeply intentional, balancing artistry with functionality. The final piece reflects this journey, embodying my vision of sustainability and storytelling through design.After I sketch, I cook all my materials on my stove, sculpt them into forms, and intertwin them with fabrics and paintings.
CS: Each project has a unique theme of cultural iconography, queerness, timelessness, and magical realism. The canon of fine art has enormous gaps, and one of my goals is to create work that elevates viewers’ lived experiences, both present and future.
ZA: Although I am deeply influenced by my Greek Orthodox upbringing and religion, I relate the lifecycle of a painting to Buddhism, as there is a long cycle of death and rebirth. Death occurs when I paint over a failed piece. Relics from past lives carry over beneath hidden layers and shape the outcome of a new work. Sometimes, a relic is the key that makes the whole thing come together. It begins in abstraction and autonomously emerges from this over time, sometimes taking just a few days, and for other paintings, several years. I want people to feel what I feel: this sense of perfection and completeness or satisfaction. Maybe they don’t understand why or how it’s working, but it does. It’s like an unspoken mutual understanding between you and the painting. It doesn’t look like something perfect, but it feels that way. Everything makes sense, and that’s such a moment of repose.
How does the local culture, history, or landscape surrounding your studio impact your designs?
Interlude: We love New York and draw endless inspiration from its frenzies, diverse culture, and history, which are all reflected in our work. We have friends with nearby studios and a creative community that fosters a sense of collaboration and collectiveness. Bushwick is convenient because we both live in Brooklyn. It’s close enough to the city to access the inspiration that drives much of our work.
CZ: On weekends, I travel upstate to visit my grandmother, who is surrounded by quiet nature. These moments of stillness remind me of the importance of balance, which translates into my creations. The dynamic, rapidly changing landscapes—both urban and rural—consistently spark new ideas and perspectives in my work.
CS: I work with a lot of ephemera, so my studio contains an archive of matchbooks, receipts, and other miscellanea from the neighborhood. I frequently scout locations for fashion shoots and portraits. The area around where I work is pretty industrial, so there are plenty of spots to find inspiration. The studio gives space for building bridges with other minds and talents, thereby giving all parties involved the opportunity to evolve as creatives and become more articulate with our work. If you have a space, use it! Bring communities together and build your ideas.
ZA: Outside my window, there’s a tree-lined street and a private park. It’s quiet, like the town I grew up in, minus the nearby metal shop. There’s a cafe downstairs, and a block away, there’s a nightclub called Mansions that hosts amazing DJs. I can see the skyline of Manhattan. Friends live and work nearby, and I work better when someone is in my space with me. These elements play a subtle role in how my paintings come together.
What makes your studio space so special? Do you prefer it in Brooklyn, or do you want to have a studio in the city someday?
Interlude: This is our second year, and we love our studio space even more. We just expanded, and it feels even more open and established. We also love our studio mate and the other artists with whom we share the full space. The vibes are great. I’ve noticed that since we’ve expanded, we’re both there more, and it feels like we’re in constant conversation about the brand. It’s moving things further along, and we’ve been in sync about where we want to take the brand. We see ourselves in this studio space for a long time.
CZ: The vibrant culture and rich history of New York City are constant sources of inspiration for my work. The city’s industrial past, juxtaposed with its ever-evolving creativity, mirrors my design philosophy—melding innovation with tradition. The diversity of people and materials available fuels my experimentation.
CS: My studio is pretty organized. I like seeing everything in its place when not in use. Music is always on or the radio if I’m editing – shout out WMNF 88.5! There’s a pin-up board for ideas that I let run wild. If I’m not working on a deadline, I like to have friends and subjects drop by all the time. I bring tea and coffee along to save money. The studio has inspired my art by allowing projects the physical space to stay in progress and allowing subjects to move freely during photography sessions. Access to studio space is a profound privilege, so I go in to do my thing as often as possible. Sometimes, I just read on the couch for an hour before getting to work.
ZA: I’d die to have a 12-floor pink palazzo in Greenwich Village, but the window of opportunity for new artists to live and work in sprawling Manhattan spaces closed like 40 years ago. My Ridgewood studio is a rare gem that took me 10 years of living in NYC to find. When I moved from Pennsylvania, I justified my Manhattan rent by thinking, why move to NYC just to live on the outskirts? I’m still wondering about this, but my studio keeps me here.
What does the future hold for you as an artist?
Interlude: The brand continues to be an outlet for our creative pourings as individuals. We hope it will allow us to grow while never losing the curiosity to create. The two of us are focused on growing the brand organically, with meaningful collaborations and with friends. Our dream is to have a runway show one day.
CZ: My future is focused on growth through meaningful collaborations and sustainability. I’m excited to continue evolving my work with bioplastics, pushing boundaries in fashion and design. On a personal level, I plan to deepen my involvement in mentorship and share my experiences with the next generation of creatives. My journey is about expanding my vision while staying rooted in sustainability and artistic integrity.
CS: Short term, I’m working more with sculpture and narrative filmmaking. Last year, I went with my family through Brunswick, GA, to see Beverley Buchanan’s site-specific installation, Marsh Ruins. Buchanan’s work has profoundly impacted my practice over the last few years and influenced me to adopt a no-limits approach to medium. Public art is very important to me, and I want to show more work outside traditional gallery spaces. Through my self-publishing label CMXXIV PUBLISHING I’ve just released my latest zine titled Munch’s Farewell. It contains photographs from the last two breakfast services at Munch’s diner, a community staple operated in my hometown of St. Petersburg, FL, from 1952 to 2022. It’s my first time working with risograph printing, and I’ll be rolling that project out at fairs and bookstores over the next few months. Another photography zine in its finishing stages will be released towards the end of this year, themed around my fashion work and various travels.
ZA: I will continue discovering painting and look forward to improving and learning. I’ll continue to be a lifelong painter, maybe one that becomes famous after dying, but before that would be great too.
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