Xenia Creative Retreat: a landscape to facilitate creativity
More than a room of one’s own, Xenia Artistic Retreat offers
a whole landscape for creatives to relax, recharge & create. Barney Pau
visited the rural Hampshire property owned by Bianca Roden, who opens up her
home, barn & nature for artists to freely do what they do best.
Meeting at Hammersmith station is never a calming
experience. Standing at the confluence of several roads, opposite queues of
bleary-eyed teens camping out at the Apollo for their heartthrob, and under the
constant rumble of the A4 flyover: it’s hard to imagine anything but this urban
chaos.
Yet just a short hour down the M3, and a few turns later, in the quietness rurality of Hampshire we’re a world away from Hammersmith’s chaos. In this part of the country, everything projects a general air of tidiness, which only increases as we draw closer to our destination, Xenia Creative Retreat.
Passing through the gates of the large estate where Xenia is based, tidiness turns into effortless curation as parklands roll out before us, broken by a few token oaks and a stand of pines. Nearing the house, the sublimity becomes dotted with sculptures, who casually hold court to a herd of Jersey cows.
Over a ha-ha and onto a manicured lawn, it seems even the leafless trees keep themselves neat, despite storm Bert’s recent sweep. Finally, the drive ends at a large red brick pile, surrounded by a collection of outbuildings, in front of which stands our host Bianca Roden, founder – and funder – of Xenia.
Through the entrance hall and into the sitting room, I’m soon being swallowed by a profoundly deep, well-plumped sofa, as I immerse myself in conversation with Xenia’s current artists-in-residence. Bianca offers us nibbles and wine, before scootching my elbow off the arm of the sofa to perch on it and join us in conversation.
After this warm welcome, it comes as no surprise to understand that Xenia’s name is eponymous with the ancient Greek concept of hospitality to others. It makes even more sense, when I deep-dive into the concept, to discover that xenia was understood as a moral obligation and even a political imperative.
Bianca’s Xenia is the culmination of a lifetime of philanthropic endeavours in the art world. From trusteeships at the Royal Academy, Horatio’s Garden, and the Contemporary Art Society – to name just a few – to her extensive collection of both contemporary and classic works: Bianca is, in every way, a patron of the arts. In a testament to this, in the four short years since it was founded, Xenia has now hosted 86 artists and counting.
These alumni will have spent anywhere between two weeks to two months comfortably housed in one of the several self-contained spaces Bianca has built around her house. Remodelled from existing farm buildings, or purpose-built; each of the spaces honours the farm and its surrounding landscape in their rural architecture, while also providing their guests with all the amenities and comfort they might need for their stay. It’s all designed by Stephen Marshall Architects, a firm well versed in what makes for good creative spaces having previously designed Cristea Roberts Gallery, the Jerwood Sculpture Gallery, and Camberwell College of Art.
In total, five separate spaces can have been created, each tailored to a specific need. From two live/work studio spaces, both abutting a shared conference area; to larger suites for artists with partners and/or kids in tow: Xenia’s diversity of options is indicative of Bianca’s vision to not exclude any from her residency. This extends to her selection process – open for artists at any stage of their careers – which she later reveals is based largely on how well she and the artist get along. There is also no expectation for the artist to make, but instead, she hopes Xenia will facilitate creativity.
Reading the titles of Xenia’s annual exhibitions gives an insight into the essence of this residency, each compiling the work of a selection of residents under its titular theme. Starting with their 2021 Leave the road; take the trail, and continuing through Sublime Synthesis and On Tenderness & Time, to 2024’s Imaginary Lines.
This show, held recently at Daniel Katz Gallery in London and curated by Maya Binkin, combined a selection of Bianca’s own Old Masters collection – including François Boucher and Jean-Baptiste Oudry – alongside a range of artists who have participated in Xenia since 2020, including Graham Little, Daisy May Collingridge, and Oren Pinhassi. Like every previous show, Imaginary Lines evoked the considered slowness that Xenia fosters in its residents.
This is epitomised by one of the artists on my visit, the painter Zoë Carlon whose oil-based works interrogate quotidian moments of “active attention”. She defines active attention as what uses up our immediate consciousness, such as social media’s algorithmic ability to keep us on the app. During her residency, Zoë has turned from oil painting to charcoal drawing, reconnecting with mark-making and form to better understand her subject matter.
The other current residency artists are Oxfordshire-based painter and musician Jatinder Singh Durhailay, and French painter, trans-disciplinary artist, and author Johanna Tagada Hoffbeck. Adam Leef, from Jerusalem, also paints and has just completed his residency period – it is a busy and interesting mix of creatives with conversation and sharing as part of the residency. Should, however, one of the resident artists struggle to find inspiration in the calmness of nature and isolation, then perhaps Bianca’s extensive art collection might ignite their minds. Each space is tastefully littered with works that illicit frequent “Oh is that a…” from my fellow visitors, to which Bianca excitedly congratulates them and laughs bashfully about the almost – yet not quite – cluttered curation.
As someone not fully inducted into the who’s who of contemporary art, my appreciation for Bianca’s extensive, and occasionally overflowing, collection is based purely on aesthetics. In this, I feel like I’m perhaps blessed by my ignorance, for as we walk around I get to enjoy the collection in its own right, rather than by its merit. This leaves me with an overall sensation of inspiration unclouded by the artists’ relevance or success, which is perhaps a reflection of Xenia in general, an appreciation for creativity without an impetus on result.
Our day at Xenia ends. Cards are exchanged, Instagrams followed, and connections made. A happy gang of artists wave us down the drive before they break away to their respective residences and we’re on our way.
What feels like a far longer drive back to London than that morning’s quick hour, we arrive back at from Hampshire to Hammersmith. Just as if we hadn’t left, the same teens were still waiting, joined now by hundreds more, all amassed in a barrier-bound throng. We decamp and descend into the busy rush hour underground before parting ways into the chaos city; visually, mentally, and physically nourished from our visit to Xenia.
Yet just a short hour down the M3, and a few turns later, in the quietness rurality of Hampshire we’re a world away from Hammersmith’s chaos. In this part of the country, everything projects a general air of tidiness, which only increases as we draw closer to our destination, Xenia Creative Retreat.
figs.i-iii
Passing through the gates of the large estate where Xenia is based, tidiness turns into effortless curation as parklands roll out before us, broken by a few token oaks and a stand of pines. Nearing the house, the sublimity becomes dotted with sculptures, who casually hold court to a herd of Jersey cows.
Over a ha-ha and onto a manicured lawn, it seems even the leafless trees keep themselves neat, despite storm Bert’s recent sweep. Finally, the drive ends at a large red brick pile, surrounded by a collection of outbuildings, in front of which stands our host Bianca Roden, founder – and funder – of Xenia.
Through the entrance hall and into the sitting room, I’m soon being swallowed by a profoundly deep, well-plumped sofa, as I immerse myself in conversation with Xenia’s current artists-in-residence. Bianca offers us nibbles and wine, before scootching my elbow off the arm of the sofa to perch on it and join us in conversation.
figs.iv,v
After this warm welcome, it comes as no surprise to understand that Xenia’s name is eponymous with the ancient Greek concept of hospitality to others. It makes even more sense, when I deep-dive into the concept, to discover that xenia was understood as a moral obligation and even a political imperative.
Bianca’s Xenia is the culmination of a lifetime of philanthropic endeavours in the art world. From trusteeships at the Royal Academy, Horatio’s Garden, and the Contemporary Art Society – to name just a few – to her extensive collection of both contemporary and classic works: Bianca is, in every way, a patron of the arts. In a testament to this, in the four short years since it was founded, Xenia has now hosted 86 artists and counting.
These alumni will have spent anywhere between two weeks to two months comfortably housed in one of the several self-contained spaces Bianca has built around her house. Remodelled from existing farm buildings, or purpose-built; each of the spaces honours the farm and its surrounding landscape in their rural architecture, while also providing their guests with all the amenities and comfort they might need for their stay. It’s all designed by Stephen Marshall Architects, a firm well versed in what makes for good creative spaces having previously designed Cristea Roberts Gallery, the Jerwood Sculpture Gallery, and Camberwell College of Art.
figs.vi-viii
In total, five separate spaces can have been created, each tailored to a specific need. From two live/work studio spaces, both abutting a shared conference area; to larger suites for artists with partners and/or kids in tow: Xenia’s diversity of options is indicative of Bianca’s vision to not exclude any from her residency. This extends to her selection process – open for artists at any stage of their careers – which she later reveals is based largely on how well she and the artist get along. There is also no expectation for the artist to make, but instead, she hopes Xenia will facilitate creativity.
figs.ix-xi
The residency’s layout of buildings, including some raised
barns for storing artwork and a purpose-built gallery space, are all within a
5-minute walk. Yet, despite their proximity, Bianca hasn’t compromised on the
privacy afforded to her residents. Through careful planning and spatial
configuration, each building offers relative isolation, to the extent that
artists could go days without seeing one another – should they wish.
And many do. Reading the reviews of previous residents, many testimonials centre on the tranquillity and calmness of their temporary Hampshire home, lauding Xenia’s lack of distraction. For most, this seems to have enabled them to recentre their practice, which is reflected in any work they then produce.
And many do. Reading the reviews of previous residents, many testimonials centre on the tranquillity and calmness of their temporary Hampshire home, lauding Xenia’s lack of distraction. For most, this seems to have enabled them to recentre their practice, which is reflected in any work they then produce.
figs.xii-xvi
Reading the titles of Xenia’s annual exhibitions gives an insight into the essence of this residency, each compiling the work of a selection of residents under its titular theme. Starting with their 2021 Leave the road; take the trail, and continuing through Sublime Synthesis and On Tenderness & Time, to 2024’s Imaginary Lines.
This show, held recently at Daniel Katz Gallery in London and curated by Maya Binkin, combined a selection of Bianca’s own Old Masters collection – including François Boucher and Jean-Baptiste Oudry – alongside a range of artists who have participated in Xenia since 2020, including Graham Little, Daisy May Collingridge, and Oren Pinhassi. Like every previous show, Imaginary Lines evoked the considered slowness that Xenia fosters in its residents.
This is epitomised by one of the artists on my visit, the painter Zoë Carlon whose oil-based works interrogate quotidian moments of “active attention”. She defines active attention as what uses up our immediate consciousness, such as social media’s algorithmic ability to keep us on the app. During her residency, Zoë has turned from oil painting to charcoal drawing, reconnecting with mark-making and form to better understand her subject matter.
figs.xx-xxiii
The other current residency artists are Oxfordshire-based painter and musician Jatinder Singh Durhailay, and French painter, trans-disciplinary artist, and author Johanna Tagada Hoffbeck. Adam Leef, from Jerusalem, also paints and has just completed his residency period – it is a busy and interesting mix of creatives with conversation and sharing as part of the residency. Should, however, one of the resident artists struggle to find inspiration in the calmness of nature and isolation, then perhaps Bianca’s extensive art collection might ignite their minds. Each space is tastefully littered with works that illicit frequent “Oh is that a…” from my fellow visitors, to which Bianca excitedly congratulates them and laughs bashfully about the almost – yet not quite – cluttered curation.
As someone not fully inducted into the who’s who of contemporary art, my appreciation for Bianca’s extensive, and occasionally overflowing, collection is based purely on aesthetics. In this, I feel like I’m perhaps blessed by my ignorance, for as we walk around I get to enjoy the collection in its own right, rather than by its merit. This leaves me with an overall sensation of inspiration unclouded by the artists’ relevance or success, which is perhaps a reflection of Xenia in general, an appreciation for creativity without an impetus on result.
figs.xxiv-xxvii
Our day at Xenia ends. Cards are exchanged, Instagrams followed, and connections made. A happy gang of artists wave us down the drive before they break away to their respective residences and we’re on our way.
What feels like a far longer drive back to London than that morning’s quick hour, we arrive back at from Hampshire to Hammersmith. Just as if we hadn’t left, the same teens were still waiting, joined now by hundreds more, all amassed in a barrier-bound throng. We decamp and descend into the busy rush hour underground before parting ways into the chaos city; visually, mentally, and physically nourished from our visit to Xenia.
Xenia Creative Retreat is an artist residency in Hampshire founded in 2020 by Bianca Roden. It comprises four fully funded studio spaces with private living quarters for artists to use anytime between two weeks to two months. All artists are welcome to apply to stay at Xenia at any point in their careers. We believe the artistic mind needs space and time to conceptualise and create. Our vision for Xenia is to establish an inspiring and nurturing retreat where multi-disciplinary creatives can gather, talk, play and make in a peaceful, beautiful environment.
As part of the Xenia programme, an exhibition featuring the work of part residents has been periodically arranged on-site or at a central London location, providing a platform for curators and artists to display their works to a larger audience. To date, three exhibitions have been staged at Xenia or Daniel Katz Gallery.
www.xeniacreativeretreat.com
Barney Pau is a creative working at the confluence of food, art, and writing, whose practice focusses on food futures, queering consumption, the history of agriculture, and domesticity. He recently completed the MA Art and Ecology at Goldsmiths, University of London. He believes that food, in its ubiquity, transcends language, and by applying its powers of communication as a medium, it is possible to impart the wisdom of sustainable consumption to others. In this, bread has been my touchstone: it’s entwined history with agriculture; the infrastructural problems it causes; and the potential solutions it presents.
When not baking bent bread, peering at plants on the pavement, or painting erotic landscapes, you can usually find him foraging for my food or reading books on baking.
www.barneypau.com
When not baking bent bread, peering at plants on the pavement, or painting erotic landscapes, you can usually find him foraging for my food or reading books on baking.
www.barneypau.com