Daily Inspiration: Meet Geneviève Ruddock

Today we’d like to introduce you to Geneviève Ruddock.

Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
I opened my art gallery ‘SPACE art + supply’ smack dab in the middle of the pandemic in the well known enclave of art and music, Topanga Canyon. Nestled in the Santa Monica Mountains between Malibu and the Palisades, Topanga is a popular destination for hiking, shopping, restaurants, music venues, and secret spots. It is an airbnb getaway and home to many creatives, not to mention native land of the Tongva and Chumash tribes. ‘Topanga’ is a Tongva word that loosely translates to ‘The Place Above’ or ‘Where the mountain meets the sea’. Along the commuter highway 27 that connects the 101 to the PCH, flying pigs can be spotted and have become the symbol of our canyon. I represent the artist, Chris Budzin, who has been fabricating these public sculptures for over 15 years. Yes, Topanga is a unique and magical place where pigs fly and pretty much anything else can happen. I was working as a pizza girl at the local watering hole, Endless Color, and was living on Saddle Peak with a group of musicians when I decided that my dream was to have an art show in Topanga on my 30th birthday. I had spent much of my time after graduating from university in India teaching art to kids. Without having worked my way into the LA art scene, gallery representation felt impossible so I took matters into my own hands. Once I found out that a little space was available in the historic Old Center Courtyard I became the squeaky wheel who got the grease. I kept asking for a chance to prove myself and before long I had a year lease in my hands and no idea how a gallery was run— but lo and behold, I held my first art show on the night of my 30th birthday. Since that day I have hosted over 20 art shows many of them first time solo shows for emerging artists. I never quite know how I am going to make rent but I have learned to live with uncertainty and trust the process.

Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
I opened my gallery in a time of great global uncertainty and Topanga Canyon is the kind of place that reflects the societal chaos as well of the environmental volatility that permeates our planet. Following the pandemic, I was flooded out of my house and lived in my gallery loft for a little over a year. Then there was the 2024 landslide that resulted in road closures that cut Topanga off from the west side. Of course I barely have to mention the 2025 Palisades fire but this was the most significant environmental trauma of all. I have hosted two group shows with LA based artists this year. The first called ‘The Place Above’ I opened in collaboration with a neighboring gallery, Artemis Studio LA, Between the two galleries we shared work from 49 artists in celebration of Spring rebirth, resiliency, and community. The second group show titled ‘Surf Report’ takes a look at natural and social disaster along the coastline. With these open call group shows I try to give artists as much creative liberty as possible because I think it is important for art spaces to instigate an outlet for the collective experiences we face—not only to process emotion and energy but to acknowledge what we have endured rather than a numb adjustment to change. Our coastline has been dramatically reshaped and there is no doubt in my mind that the ripple effect is felt in the ocean and on land. The most explicit pieces in the show by story board artist and painter, Mitt Seely, depict scenes from the fire and places that have been lost or indefinitely reshaped. Seely lost his place on Sunset and has created this series as his own method of processing trauma. Although it comes from a personal place, the remembrance of places lost strike a cord in all of us who have connection to the coastline. Other pieces in the show depict nature’s quiet wisdom like Sarah Lejeune’s night scenes on Tuna Canyon. It was through witnessing the quiet rebirth of nature from that charred contours of black mountain that I found my own hope in the aftermath of the fires. Lejuene’s mixed media paintings capture that patient regrowth that nature displays. In less than one year we have witnessed the charred black become green and bright with new blooms under the under the same moon. My hope is that in our own way, people can handle change just as gracefully.

Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
I have developed my own curatorial style of what I call ‘pop folk’ because I am naturally drawn to crude brush strokes, color, whimsy, and symbolism. My own artistic work explores deep emotion through exploration of media. I can revisit the same piece for many moons, using the canvas as a point of introspection until a thick skin of texture, color, and memory is generated. People often connect with the vulnerable fragments of journal entries that find their way into my pieces and I’ve been slowly working on turning an abstract composition into a rug that is made of thousands of hand cut and strung fibers using the latch-hook method. It’s ok with me that my pieces take time because they are my own way of resolving strands of life energy. I also practice Craniosacral therapy, write folk songs on guitar, surf, hike, and curate the little gift shop in my gallery.

What would you say have been one of the most important lessons you’ve learned?
It may sound cheesy, but I’ve learned that we are all connected and it is most important that I honor that connection. There is so much messaging out there that fosters disconnection from anyone who may have different beliefs or behaviors. We put up so many walls in our personal lives and extended communities; I have found that in my own life, too many walls will ultimately create a sense of disconnection from my own self, purpose, and flow. I am learning that in order to foster and build community, tolerance and grace for myself and others has a direct influence on the outcome of each day. The health of my business seems to directly reflect my capacity to hold space for an array of beliefs and behaviors without letting fear or judgement take over. It’s important to keep going and to keep trying to be better because no one is perfect and it takes time to become who we dream to be—but also, not to get too hung up on the imperfections and problems that present themselves because things are constantly changing. I am certainly a work in progress, and so is my gallery, and my personal art work. In the face of uncertainty I am learning to hold everything loosely while finding gratitude in the darkness. I can’t say I have fully integrated this lesson but after four years of running my own gallery, this is what I identify as the most important lesson of my journey..that, and Never Give Up!

Pricing:

• ‘The Reel Inn’ by Mitt Seely $3,200
• ‘Burn Scar: Sacred Datura’ by Sarah LeJeune $9,700
• ‘Topanga’s Original Flying Pig’ by Chris Budzin $1,650
• ‘Rebirth of Venus Series’ by Alyssa Morang-Pavlock $248 ech
• ‘Pullin Up By a Siren’ by Clyde Corley $750

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.spaceartandsupply.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/spaceartandsupply
• Other: https://www.artworkarchive.com/profile/space-art-and-supply/portfolio

Image Credits
Justin Woolley
Alyssa Morang-Pavlock
Denis Hannigan