The acclaimed artist opens the doors to her Cotswolds home and studio she shares with her husband, musician Jack Savoretti, and their three children, and explains why the county her ancestors once called home still shapes her work. By Rosalind Sack
ARTIST JEMMA POWELL AT WORK AT HER HOME STUDIO IN THE COTSWOLDS
Jemma Powell’s paint-flecked dining table stands beneath a myriad of canvases and frames, brushes splaying from ceramic pots alongside piles of paint tubes, wooden wine boxes of supplies and flickering candles.
Her home near Great Tew in the Cotswolds is shared with her husband, the singer-songwriter Jack Savoretti, their three children and their menagerie of pets. Her studio is the old dining room, taken over gradually, a few steps from the kitchen and close enough to the sitting room that she can hear Jack’s piano through the wall.
It’s not a conventional way to work – canvases in progress visible from the breakfast table, brushstrokes interrupted by whichever of the children needs something – but Jemma has come to see the noise and mess of family life as part of the process, rather than an obstacle to it.
Indeed, her work has been exhibited widely across the UK. Her most recent exhibition Through The Eyes Of The Eagle, at The Chancery Rosewood, was produced in collaboration with fellow artist Mary West and her paintings can be found at London’s Mandarin Oriental Hotel and Soho Farmhouse, as well as in distinguished private collections across the globe.
Here, Jemma talks about creating art at the heart of busy family life, the room she never meant to give up, and whether she’ll eventually need a studio of her own.
How would you describe your home and who do you share it with?
It’s myself, my husband Jack, our three kids, Connie, Winter and Celeste; as well as four dogs, Jazzy, Maggie, Peggy and Milou and a little cat who recently adopted us as her family. She had no micro-chip and no one claimed her so we took her in. Celeste named her Miaow Miaow.
You moved to the Cotswolds from London 10 years ago – what does this place give you as a home that other places couldn’t?
Wide open landscapes, big skies, wild flowers and a connection to my past as my ancestors all grew up in the same village that I live in.
Walk me through a typical day: where does painting start, where does it spill into family life?
It’s all a bit haphazard as my studio is next to the kitchen so I yoyo between the stove and my easel, and I can see my paintings in progress from the kitchen table! It is wonderful to be able to see what I have painted from a different perspective, but it often means I’m jumping up to change parts in the middle of family time.
You turned the dining room into your art studio, in the heart of your home. What made you choose that space?
It happened gradually. To begin with I was very tidy and over time more and more paint spilled and flicked onto walls and now when people come for dinner they are eating in my painting studio!
What does it do for your creative process to have family life carry on around you rather than silence?
I love listening to the funny conversations my kids have when they think I am busy painting. Even when I’m focussed on painting, little snippets slip into my consciousness and there’s a comfort that comes with that which allows me to relax and access feelings and emotions that I put into my paintings.
Is there a room that’s purely ‘home’ and off-limits to the work?
Our sitting room is where Jack’s grand piano and instruments are, so I often go in there to unwind because it has nothing to do with my work. Everyone in the family sings or plays something and this is where the music is made.
Do you think you’d paint differently in a separate studio away from the house?
I think I will eventually reach a point where I need to get out and build a studio in the garden so I separate my two roles. Connie is now a teenager and she’s always got friends back at the house at the weekend and in holidays. I also think it would be interesting to see how my painting changes. The scenes in my work were once very domestic – children, still life, the home, flowers. But now my work is more about memory and feelings and so I need to be in more of a meditative state to paint which can’t be interrupted or I lose my flow.
If the objects in your home could speak, which would have the best stories to tell?
My easel has seen most sides of me. I was very sick when I was pregnant so we went through a lot together – I would have a bucket next to it in case I threw up! Painting was my relief and escapism from the way I felt in those months. Jack’s piano has also seen a party or two. After a few drinks he will always get people playing it with him, even if they have never touched a piano key!
Has a piece of furniture, a colour on the wall, or a particular light in the house ever found its way into a painting?
Yes, quite often. There was one moment before Christmas where my studio was being transformed back into a dining room, I was feeling a little overwhelmed by the mess, the presents I hadn’t bought, the food prep, the dogs who had eaten all the mince pies and I was sleep deprived from having a baby. I decided to get a canvas out and paint the scene of the room in all its glorious mess and colour and wonder. I have used painting as a tool to calm myself so much over the years. I kept the painting as a reminder to myself that my work is always there to pull me out of the madness if I need!
How much does your beautiful garden inspire your work?
I love to look at the shapes and the shadows in the garden and about eight years ago I did an entire show of very small paintings of flowers I had grown in my garden.
How do two creative practices — your painting and your husband’s music — coexist under one roof?
Jack and I love to chat about our artistic processes. If one of us has a block we are quite good at talking it through and we share a lot when it comes to our two practices. It’s really incredible to hear the songs being written from scratch as I paint – I feel very lucky.
What was your childhood home like?
My dad is a product designer and my Mum a painter so our childhood home was a very creative one. When mum wasn’t painting pictures she was painting a fireplace or a staircase in the most beautiful Bloomsbury-esque patterns. Every inch of the home was covered in colour and pattern. Mum would make everything – all the curtains and cushions and she is the most brilliant gardener, so our garden was always bursting with flowers and hedges and bushes all sculpted in wonderful shapes.
If someone walked through your home without knowing it was yours, what do you hope they’d feel?
We are obsessed with the way a house smells so are devoted to every room having one or two Aqua di Parma candles in. I’d hope they would say the Powell/Savoretti house smells GOOD. I often feel our house has too much ‘stuff’ and everything is a bit upside down and mismatching, but people always seem to say they love the cosy and welcoming vibes and we can never seem to get rid of people once they arrive!
JEMMA’S BELOVED DOGS SNOOZING AND KEEPING WATCH FROM THE WINDOW
JEMMA’S BEAUTIFUL COTTAGE STILL RETAINS MANY ORIGINAL FEATURES AND STANDS IN GROUNDS THAT INSPIRE HER WORK
CREATIVITY ABOUNDS IN THE SITTING ROOM AS WELL, WHERE JACK’S PIANO SITS AND MUSIC IS MADE
A GLIMPSE OF THE GARDEN AND A COMFY SPOT ON THE SOFA
PRECIOUS ANTIQUES AND A SOOTHING COLOUR PALETTE CREATE A SENSE OF CALM IN THE BEDROOM
Read more Home Truths interviews on The Home Page with cook and writer Gill Meller here, designer and author Anya Hindmarch here and interior designer and natural paint pioneer Edward Bulmer here among many others.
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