Why Open Studios Matter (And Why Galleries Do Too)

This weekend sees the start of North Yorkshire Open Studios, and here in Masham we'll be opening up some of the spaces behind the gallery too.
Every year, thousands of people choose to spend their weekends peering into workshops, climbing stairs into spare bedrooms turned studios, squeezing into garden sheds full of clay, paint and half-finished ideas. It raises an interesting question.
Why do we love Open Studios so much?
Partly, if we're honest, because we're curious.
We get to go behind the scenes. We see the mugs of cold tea, the shelves full of experiments, the tools, the sketches and the things that didn't quite work. We see artists as people rather than names on labels.

In an age when almost everything can be bought with a click, people seem to value encounters more than ever. Meeting the maker, hearing the story, seeing the place where something was made; these experiences cannot be downloaded.
When visitors come to an Open Studio, they're not just looking at an object. They're connecting it to a person, a place and a process. The work carries something different once you've seen where it came from.
There's also something deeply satisfying about seeing work in progress. In a gallery, you're often looking at a finished piece. In a studio, you might see the ten versions that came before it, the abandoned ideas, the materials waiting to become something else.
Sometimes the work itself is different too.
Studios often contain pieces that will never make it onto a gallery wall. Early experiments. Collections of sketches. Personal projects. Objects that are too large, too strange, too unfinished or simply too close to the artist's heart to fit comfortably into an exhibition.
Visitors often tell us they enjoy seeing this wider picture. It helps them understand the finished work in a new way.

But Open Studios and galleries are not rivals. They do different jobs.
A good studio visit shows you where the work comes from.
A good gallery helps you see what the work has become.
Galleries create a space for reflection. The work is given room to breathe. Pieces are placed in conversation with one another. Lighting, scale and context all help tell a story that may not be obvious in a busy working studio.
And galleries can take risks too.
While a studio is often where the work is made, galleries are often where new connections happen. They introduce visitors to artists they may never have encountered before. They commission exhibitions, champion emerging makers, and create conversations between different artists and disciplines.
At their best, galleries are not simply places that display finished work. They are active participants in the creative life of a place, helping ideas, relationships and opportunities grow.
Artists need both environments.
Studios are places of making, experimentation and risk. Galleries are places of presentation, connection and discovery.
For many artists, galleries also provide something less visible but equally important: year-round advocacy. Introducing new audiences to their work. Sharing their stories. Looking after sales, marketing and relationships with collectors. Creating opportunities that continue long after Open Studios weekend is over.
Likewise, galleries benefit enormously from Open Studios. Visitors return with a deeper understanding of artists' practices. They make connections between the person, the process and the finished work. They often discover artists they might never have encountered otherwise.
The two are part of the same ecosystem.
One lets you step into the workshop.
The other invites you to step back and really look.

And perhaps that's why so many people enjoy Open Studios. Not because it replaces the gallery experience, but because it adds another layer to it. The finished piece becomes richer when you've seen the sketchbook, the tools, the experiments and the room where it all began.
This year, as part of North Yorkshire Open Studios, we'll be opening some of the spaces behind Masham Gallery.
Visitors will be able to see work by ceramic artist Charlotte Morrison, painter and printmaker Ian Scott Massie, and my own work as artist and storyteller, alongside sketchbooks, works in progress and some of the things that don't usually make it into the gallery itself.
It's a chance to step beyond the exhibition rooms and see a little more of how ideas develop, how different artists work and what happens before a piece reaches the wall.
And yes, there will be cake.
We hope you'll come and say hello.