International Women's Day 2019

Rebecca Catterall, Studio Director and Founder

I’ve never been especially drawn to performative gestures of balance or progress. They can feel disconnected from the lived reality of difference - of making decisions in context, and working things out gradually, over time.

In the early stages, getting Sunken Studio off the ground was largely a solitary process. While I sought advice and talked ideas through with others, the responsibility for decisions sat with me. I learnt quickly that mistakes were inevitable - and useful. Most things can be adjusted, refined, or revisited. Without that room to make and learn from mistakes, it’s difficult to build something that feels able to last. Sunken Studio grew from a resistance to stagnation, and from a desire to create a studio that could remain responsive rather than fixed too early.

Along the way, I encountered many different forms of guidance. Some was generous and practical. Some was more cautious, shaped by assumptions about scale, risk, or what might be considered realistic. Part of finding my footing involved learning how to listen carefully - understanding when caution offered something helpful, and when it simply reflected the limits of familiar ways of working.

Expectations are shaped by cultural, economic, and social conditions. They tend to repeat themselves, particularly within established professional environments. For a studio to develop differently, there needs to be space for other approaches to be considered and tested. That takes attention, patience, and a willingness to listen beyond what feels immediately comfortable or recognisable.

Scepticism often takes subtle forms, appearing as caution or practicality. It tends to be quiet and habitual, shaping choices through assumptions that go unspoken. Many structural inequalities persist in this way - not through direct resistance, but through patterns that are left unquestioned. In that context, leadership isn’t about defiance for its own sake. It’s about noticing those patterns, and making small, considered adjustments over time.

There’s no final point where this work is complete. Building a studio - and sustaining it - is an ongoing process of calibration. You keep paying attention, refining what’s in place, and responding as conditions shift.