Duville’s studio occupies an entire floor of a residential building he had recently bought in the Buenos Aires neighborhood of Villa Crespo. One difference I noticed between New York and Buenos Aires was that instead of artists converting industrial spaces into studios, Argentine artists often took over the empty domestic space of residential buildings.
Duville, who mainly paints and draws, took me on a short tour through the kitchen, the office, and several rooms—each with its own dedicated drawing mounted to the wall. A 6-foot-tall safe he inherited with the purchase of the building sat in a storage room. Duville became curious about its contents and history. He suspects it was used by the surrounding community somewhat like a local bank because of several paper logs denoting amounts deposited or taken and marked only with first names. “There are some pretty funny notes, like this,” he laughed opening a box with a note inside, which read: Reinaldo took some things.
Duville also had a few favorite objects in his studio. One was a petrified tree trunk that his father had given him when he was young. “It’s inspired several drawings and sometimes when I need to relax, I just sort of stare at it and meditate.” Another was a vintage Italian keyboard, which looked as if it was the first electric model of its kind. Like many artists, Duville plays music as a way to take a break from his studio practice. “I like it because it’s just so strange that there’s this air vent in back. You can feel the air passing through it when you play. Why it’s there I don’t know—it’s like they put it there for special effect so you can feel like you’re really doing something,” he laughed.