Artists heading off to residencies is hardly unusual. We see it online, and sometimes even touch on the experience in our interviews. But the conversation rarely goes much deeper than that.

Until now.

Today, we are changing that by sitting down with Stephany Sanossian, a visual artist working across collage, installation, and mixed media, who recently took part in the Safir Art and Vertygo Residency Programme in Italy.

We spoke about what life at an artist residency is really like, how creating in a completely different environment compares to working from your own studio, and what she brought back from the experience beyond the artwork itself. This is Stephany's story, told in her own words.

And for anyone feeling inspired by her experience, we finished with a small bonus: the practical questions for those who might want to experience an artist residency themselves rather than just read about one.

Okay, so now we are in Italy — the kind of place where you wake up to birds outside your window and fall asleep to complete silence.

For me, this was actually the first fully immersive residency I had ever done. A couple of years earlier, during the Venice Biennale, I took part in a very short residency organised by an Armenian company. The format was much simpler: you went there and painted.

This felt completely different.

And, to be honest, it wasn't always easy. I am such a city girl. I am attached to buildings, cars, delivery apps, and all the little conveniences of urban life. Suddenly, I found myself in a place where everything was much more hands-on. If you wanted food, you had to make it. At first, I really felt the difference.

But after a few days, it stopped feeling unusual. Even though I was only there for two weeks, I felt myself becoming part of the environment quite quickly. You notice it in small things: there are no car sounds, the air is incredibly clean, and you sleep differently.

I think that is partly the point of a residency like this. It takes you out of your routine and places you somewhere completely different. After a few days, I realised how much of my everyday life usually revolves around screens, apps, and instant solutions. There, all of that suddenly felt much less important.

I attended the residency through SAFIR, a platform that supports Syrian artists. Through them, I was given the opportunity to join a two-week programme organised by Vertygo, a platform founded by Niccolò. He works with artists through exhibitions and various projects — sometimes virtually, sometimes through physical shows in places like Paris, Abu Dhabi, and Dubai.

The residency brings together artists from across the GCC and the wider Middle East in a small village in Italy. We stayed in a beautiful villa dating back to the 1800s, surrounded by vineyards, and honestly, one of the first things that caught my attention had nothing to do with art.

It was the way people lived there.

The owner runs the entire place himself. He looks after the vineyards, the house, the guests — everything. If something breaks, he fixes it. If something needs doing, he does it. That alone felt quite striking to me.

I arrived knowing what I wanted to work on because it was already part of my artistic process. The residency itself was very open: there were no restrictions on the theme, the medium, or what you had to create. The only real idea was to make something that responded to the place around you.

For me, that meant continuing to work with dots — thousands and thousands of dots.

I would build up layers, paint over them, then wash the paint away by hand before starting again. It was a very slow process. The idea was to let the colour gradually fade into the surface rather than sit on top of it. It took a lot of time and patience, but somehow it felt right for that environment.

And honestly, I don't think I would have worked this way if I had stayed in my studio in Dubai. That is the interesting thing about residencies: nobody tells you what the final result should be. You can create one work, ten works, or spend the entire time experimenting. There is a lot of freedom to simply follow an idea and see where it takes you.

I also think people sometimes focus too much on the artwork itself. Of course, you create something during those two weeks, but the bigger impact often comes afterwards. You come back with new ideas, new references, and sometimes even a slightly different way of looking at your own work.

Before Italy, I was constantly working with sunrise and sunset colours — oranges, yellows, pinks and blues. They appear throughout my work. But after spending two weeks surrounded by hills and nature, I found myself becoming much more interested in earthy tones, muddy colours and different textures. Without really planning it, they started finding their way into the work as well.

Even now, that influence is still there. I want to continue exploring the process I started in Italy, but on a much larger scale and with an even stronger focus on those earthier colours.

One thing I didn't expect was how much I would learn from the other artists. There were five of us in the residency — Amir Hazim, Firaz Ben Ali, Sara Ahli, Aya Afaneh, and myself — and we all approached creativity in completely different ways.

Amir, for example, is a photographer, and his way of working is almost the opposite of mine. I tend to get completely absorbed in the details. Once I start working on something, I zoom in and stay there. Amir, on the other hand, likes to discover things through movement. He would constantly suggest going for walks, taking a different route, or wandering somewhere just to see what we might find.

Spending time with him reminded me that sometimes the best thing you can do is step away from the work, look at the bigger picture, and allow ideas to come to you instead of chasing them.

I had similar moments with the other artists. Firaz was experimenting with photomontage and different printing techniques, and I often found myself wandering over to see what he was doing. Sara had just come back from a glass workshop in Venice and arrived with a completely different set of references and experiences.

That became one of my favourite parts of the residency. Everyone had their own rhythm, habits, and little creative rituals. Sometimes you watch someone working and think, "I genuinely have no idea how you have the patience for that."

And then you realise they are probably looking at your process and thinking exactly the same thing.

Even outside the studio, the residency felt like a shared experience. Niccolò cooked for us every day, introducing us to incredible Italian dishes and sauces I had never tried before. Some of my favourite memories are honestly just the conversations around the dinner table after a long day of work — talking about art, exchanging ideas, or sometimes not talking about art at all.

How do artists usually find and apply for residencies?

Vertygo was a little different because this particular opportunity wasn't an open call. But most residencies work through applications. Artists submit a portfolio, project proposal, or statement, and a jury selects participants based on their work and how well it fits the programme.

Where can artists search for opportunities?

Honestly, Instagram is one of the easiest places to start. Once you begin following residency programmes and open-call accounts, the algorithm quickly starts introducing you to more opportunities.

If I had to name a few places to begin with, some of the residency programmes worth exploring in the region include:

Is it difficult to get accepted?

I think the biggest challenge isn't getting accepted — it is finding the right opportunity in the first place. One mistake artists sometimes make is applying everywhere simply for the sake of getting into a residency.

Different programmes are designed for different artists. Some focus on specific mediums, themes, research areas, or ways of working. A residency centred around textiles, for example, may not be the right fit if your practice focuses on painting or sculpture.

That is why I think it is important to ask yourself why you want to do a residency in the first place. The goal shouldn't simply be to get accepted, but to find an experience that pushes your work in a meaningful direction.

What does a typical day at an art residency look like?

That really depends on the residency.

In our case, there was a lot of flexibility. Everyone found their own rhythm. Some artists worked all day, every day, while others preferred to take things a little more slowly and spend time exploring the village and the surrounding area.

The one thing we all had in common was dinner. Every evening, we would sit down and eat together, and looking back, those conversations became one of the most valuable parts of the experience.

Do residencies usually cover travel, accommodation, and food?

It also depends on the residency. Some programmes cover accommodation, travel, studio space, and even provide a stipend. Others may only offer accommodation or a workspace, but that can still be a great opportunity depending on where you are in your practice and what you need at the time.