STEAMBOAT SPRINGS – When the world closed its doors to life as we knew it in March 2020, people hunkered down and our homes became our castles. They became the places where we ate, slept, socialized and worked. Fortunately for a handful of Steamboat Springs artists, their creative spaces were already on their property, each with its own quirky tale. 

JEFF YEISER 

If there is a silver lining to be found during a pandemic, Steamboat Springs local Jeff Yeiser has succeeded in finding it. During lockdown last spring, Jeff – a member of the Steamboat Ski & Resort Corp.’s construction crew – ensconced himself in a century-old barn on his property to fulfill a lifelong ambition. 

“My uncle Joe was a shop teacher and made us the coolest things for Christmas,” Jeff says. “I always wanted to learn how to do it.” Fine woodworking runs through the family veins. His 97-year-old grandfather reluctantly agreed to hang up his tools this year. 

Primarily self-taught, Jeff spends every spare hour honing his craft in the space he graciously shares with the family’s chickens. When a neighbor asked if he could replace the handle for a a 1960s fly-fishing net, Jeff accepted the challenge. Since then, he’s been inundated with requests. His hand-carved stand-up paddleboard paddles are in hot demand, along with home accessories he sells at Adorn in downtown Steamboat. 

Jeff Yeiser’s hand-carved stand-up paddleboard paddles are in constant demand. Photo courtesy Ghost Creek Woodworks.

The two-story barn is packed to the rafters with wood remnants and projects in progress. “I often get calls from friends saying they have a pile of wood in their garage and asking if I want it,” he says. In amongst his own creations, which currently include a batch of elaborate candlesticks and a bench, lay works by his two children. “I frequently find someone’s little creation tucked away in a box or laying out on a workspace to be continued,” he says. 

Jeff relishes the sense of tradition in his craftsmanship. His studio radiates the past; the original trusses, animal stalls and manger were used during the days it served as the stagecoach stop between Yampa and Steamboat. He and his wife, Kathy, have painstakingly preserved their home in the former inn, along with the rust-red barn that housed horses. 

Jeff’s pride is apparent not only in his work, but also in the surroundings that inspire him. So much so, he named his new venture Ghost Creek Woodworks. “I’m not sure where I will go with this yet, but I’m not short of ideas, requests or wood,” he shares with a grin. 

Lance Whitner paints whimsical depictions of local landscapes in her century-old studio. 

LANCE WHITNER

Lance Whitner paints whimsical depictions of local landscapes in her century-old studio. Photo by David Patterson.

Some folks fly by the seat of their pants, but artist Lance Whitner goes by the seat of her saddle. Her time on trails provides the inspiration for the abstract depictions of nature that have become her signature work. 

Armed with a journal and a handpicked selection of watercolors, Whitner cruises over dirt tracks on her trusted mountain bike, stopping sporadically to scribble and sketch. Those windows to the world end up pinned to the walls of her century-old studio in downtown Steamboat Springs. 

“My work is definitely about capturing a sense of place, but I am not trying to create an exact representation,” Whitner says. 

Color means a lot to the artist, who grew up in Charlotte, North Carolina, where homes are painted in a myriad of hues and gardens bloom profusely. “I found Colorado so brown in comparison,” she says of her move west to study clay at the University of Colorado in Boulder. 

When she and her photographer husband, David Patterson, opted for a 1904 home in Steamboat to raise their three children, they moved in and painted it indigo and chartreuse. 

The creative duo shares the former carriage house, which they renovated into a studio in 2010. A glass door separates their spaces, with Whitner taking the street side. In the summer , when she works with the front door ajar, it acts as a magnet to curious passersby. 

“I’m such a homebody,” says the mother of three almost-grown children. “I love working in this space and being able to connect with my community.” 

Despite being a potter by trade – she earned a bachelor’s degree in fine arts and majored in ceramics – it is painting that 

she was ultimately drawn to. She grew up roaming around her father’s 10-acre garden, which subconsciously led to her favorite color being green. “What really kicked me into gear to paint was news that my extremely supportive dad had cancer,” she says. “I wanted him to see me succeed at something I’d been talking about.” 

She did. Her first show, titled “My Dad’s Garden,” was staged prior to his death. Since then, her bold portrayals of florals and foliage have captured the imagination of those who may or may not have personally visited the places that Lance and her bike have been. 

SANDY GRAVES

When sculptor Sandy Graves and her husband, Matt, added a two-level addition to their 1940s home in downtown Steamboat Springs, they planned for it to be a much-needed studio. In truth, it has become a family hangout for workspace and raucous ping-pong games. 

Despite the happy distractions to her creative flow, Sandy appreciates her space to sprawl. “Your supplies and space define what you are able to do,” she says of the elevated ceilings that can accommodate her many larger-than-life bronze commissions. 

Matt designed and constructed the building, which served as home to the family while they rented out the original house. At the time, Sandy was trying to balance motherhood with her work – a juggling act she thrives on. 

Her work hovers among abstraction, realism and functionality, and she balances these three concepts while working in the studio. Weighted bookshelves hang over desks strewn with tools and an eclectic array of raw materials. 

Sandy’s husband, Matt, used a German permaculture system to establish the couple’s vibrant garden, which serves as a neighborhood gathering place and a backdrop to Sandy’s creative space. Photo courtesy of Sandy Graves.

The lower level houses an inventory of bronzes. Crates, boxes and packing materials lay in wait to be filled with artwork, which gets shipped throughout North America and Canada. 

“I’ve been so lucky to have the space I need for the work I do,” Sandy says. The “dirty” work of wax pouring, chasing and patina is done at a foundry in Paonia, where she travels as needed. 

In the summer, Sandy tries to be outside as much as possible. “I’m a worshiper of warmth, so it’s easier to stay indoors and work during the winter,” she says. Pockets of the surrounding yard burst with vegetables, satellite-dish-sized sunflowers and towering hollyhocks: a reflection of Matt’s dedication to Hügelkultur, a German permaculture system. “The garden is a family endeavor, from those who plant the seeds to those who cut and wilt greens in the frying pan,” Sandy says. 

When Sandy is inside the studio, she throws open the windows to let in as much light as possible. “I sculpt according to my mood and connections to what I have in my mind,” she says. On the rare occasions when she can work in peace, nature in its many forms is brought to life in her hands. 

DAVID MARSHALL 

David Marshall has sculptures, shipped from his workshop in southern Spain, displayed at his studio in North Routt County.

Those who stumble upon David Marshall’s studio at the edge of Hahns Peak Village in North Routt are forgiven for thinking they’ve landed in another world. While the lower floor showcases his abstract and functional art, the upper level is a trove of worldly treasures. The Scottish-born sculptor suffers from a serious case of wanderlust, which is why he and his wife, Dagmar, have chosen Steamboat Springs as a part-time home. 

They stumbled upon the Yampa Valley after years of skiing in the West and set to work building a house. With customers spanning the globe, David wanted an American base to store work for his North American clients. The couple was able to salvage 300 lodgepole pines from Dutch Creek Ranch; they cut and milled them to make the studio. 

His permanent home and workspace are in the quaint Andalucían village of Benaoján in Southern Spain, where David does the sandcasting to produce his stand-alone sculptures and tabletop pieces. He crates them for shipment to Hahns Peak, where he buffs the sought-after contents to distribute to the various galleries which represent him. 

Not keen to stand still, David and Dagmar spend copious amounts of time stateside, touring Colorado and neighboring states in their camper. Armed with a leatherbound journal and pencil, David takes notes wherever he goes. What some see as animal prints and marks on rocks, he sees as concepts for an art piece. “Human destruction is causing so many of these tracks to be lost,” David says. “As individuals we have to ask, ‘What do we leave behind, or does it even matter?’” 

For David, it does matter, which is why he painstakingly gathers so many relics from his travels with the goal of repurposing. “I want to leave something that holds meaning of a place or thing that in time may no longer exist,” he says. His North Routt studio is testament to that desire.

GIGI WALKER

Gigi paints in her open-air kitchen, where wildlife makes frequent appearances. Photo courtesy Johnny Walker.

Every morning all summer long, artist Gigi Walker emerges from her tipi on the outskirts of Steamboat Springs. For 40 years, she and her husband, Johnny, have spent the warmest months of the year immersed in nature – literally. 

The adventurous duo is no stranger to compact living spaces. While raising their daughters, Chula and Josie, they would swap snow for sea to spend part of the year living on a sailboat. “We’ve always loved doing things differently,” Gigi says. 

The Walkers hand-built a quirky cabin in the woods, to which they can escape when the weather pushes them indoors. On the property they call WildRose, they constructed an open-air kitchen that serves as the living space next to the tipi. While most people install locks on cupboards to keep out toddlers, their metal deterrents are there to stop the resident bears, foxes and raccoons from picnicking on the property. 

Gigi and Johnny Walker have spent the last 40 summers living in a tipi by the couple’s hand-built cabin on the outskirts of Steamboat Springs. Photo by Suzi Mitchell.

“We’ve definitely had some hair-raising encounters, but on the whole we all live in harmony,” Johnny says. 

Despite the arduous task of opening and closing a multifarious summer camp, they can’t give it up. “Our grandkids love it, and it’s a great place for me to paint,” Gigi says. Her watercolors embrace an obvious love of nature and the place she calls home. If she needed more inspiration, she need not look further than her artist daughter Chula Beauregard. Mother and daughter clearly share a rapport with their natural surroundings. 

“Every year Johnny and I say this will be our last one doing the camp, but then spring rolls around and we can’t resist,” Gigi says with a chuckle.