Recent Reflections

A note from our Executive Director, Anouchka Freybe

I plan a visit to the residency once every two months. I tell myself that this schedule is important, because being there physically adds context and understanding of current needs, and nothing beats learning directly from our staff and the artists-in-residence. This November, I’ll be driving the jarringly scenic rollercoaster highway (the Crowsnest) from Vancouver to Keremeos for the 22nd time. 

I admit to being attached to the log house. From the moment two blurry photographs were shown to us of a 20 acre property – it was the house that called out. I wanted something positive and unifying to happen here on the hill across from the red bridge, because it called out to be seen and shared this way. I’m not from the southern Okanagan, nor do I belong to the land that has been stewarded by the Syilx Okanagan Nation since time immemorial. I’m not one of the entrepreneurial members of the Keremeos/Cawston community, and yet I’m so attached to the longevity of this fruit stand capital. Can’t quite explain it.  

And then I had to. This September, I was asked to be part of a panel discussion on the “Conversations on Collecting: Transformational Legacies” presented by Griffin Art Projects and the Vancouver Art Gallery. While the real stars of the panel were Eva Respini, Claudia Beck, and Brigitte + Henning Freybe, the inclusion of SAR as an artist-centered space spoke to philanthropy that could nurture the artistic talent of tomorrow. I could see the through line. 

It wasn’t difficult (though emotional) to underscore how SAR was developed in recognition of the value that residencies play in the development of artist’s lives. It literally is one of our founding principles, along with our recognition of the difficulties artists face when seeking time, support, well-maintained studio spaces, and funding for their work. I spoke about our beginnings with a small advisory committee, the dedication to the concept that was shared by committee members Lisa Baldiserra and Landon Mackenzie. The hope that was driving us, to make something happen that felt multi-purposeful, to serve a variety of artists and communities. I spoke about learning on-the-go, the evolution of our staffing structure and how many measures had to be put into place to ensure the project was well-maintained and well governed. There were several slides on a loop, I believe over 40. I don’t think I took a breath, not until I passed the mike back to Claudia, to pause and speak to the individual stories attached to each image. The gorgeous panoramic shots of the valley, the red bridge, the importance of bitterroot, the black and green sage, artists in their studios, the flicker holes in the side of the house if you looked closely enough. 

I was fixated on telling a broader story, how SAR has grown roots under the conscientious, intuitive, compassionate care of Ali, our Residency Manager, and Ace, Communications/Programs Manager; and Reiko, our former Admin and Comms/Programs lead. I realized just how many programs and workshops were initiated by Ali and our artists in residence. For these to happen beyond the Open Studio format at the log house, we’ve been supported by local entities such as the Grist Mill, Penticton Art Gallery, the Keremeos Community Centre, and the Penticton & District Community Arts Council.

What I had in my notes but sadly forgot to mention was the importance of partnerships with other institutions. Where would we be without Griffin Art Projects and Emily Carr University. The two organizations have collaborated since 2021 to sponsor the Griffin X ECU Award for Graduating MFA students with a SAR residency. We have had five MFA graduates come to SAR, even before we had officially launched, and our first long-term resident Isaiah was a BFA graduate. The Griffin was also our first programming partner with the 2024 Future Worldings cohort spending one week at SAR, and allowed us the opportunity to connect with and learn from Indigenous educational organizations such as the En’owkin Centre, and the teachings of Anona Kampe through her presentations on land protocol, decolonization, and sage harvesting.

The learning process of developing an artist residency that feels like a retreat has been, at best, nonlinear – and also, at best, a reflection of what can be achieved if one gives agency to the experiences of others. We were (and are) always learning from each other, one month to the next. It's not just the log house that has a gravitational pull for me, it’s now a desire to support the professional development of the staff that have invested energy and care in this project.

The greatest lesson has been learning how (challenging it is) to create an environment that is neutral but supportive enough to engage and serve the needs of diverse artists at different points in their careers. I’m certain that I show up every two months because I need to be reconnected to the principles of this place as a writer, as an artist. The space and time to rest, the opportunity to share ideas with others – and the potential to become attached to the log house and land through reciprocity – care, respect and inspiration.