Great Spaces: An eclectic Junction Triangle loft that doubles as a ceramics studio

Tamara Al-Issa is the 28-year-old sculptural artist behind Solem Ceramics. She and her partner, director of photography Gordon Gair, moved into their 2,200-square-foot loft in the Junction Triangle in early 2024. The place has an expiration date—in two years, it’s getting torn down to make way for condos—but it was too appealing to pass up. “Toronto has a track record of demolishing every beautiful loft in the city, and we wanted to make this place our own and enjoy it while we could,” says Al-Issa.

Over 10 days in February, the couple transformed the space into a home and studio. “It was a big job,” says Al-Issa, who is originally from Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. “The amount of work we did over those 10 days is astounding.” Originally, the loft was broken up into several smaller rooms and had a compact kitchen. Now it’s an open-concept creative oasis, where work and life blend together. “Gordon is really handy, and I’m very DIY,” says Al-Issa. “We both know how to build.”

The first few days after moving in were dedicated to the teardown. “We were sleeping on trash—it was crazy,” says Al-Issa. Then the building began, starting with Al-Issa’s studio. “My studio is where I spend the most time, so creating that space was really important to me,” she says. She told Gair her vision, and he built modular shelves and a portable pottery table from scratch.

Once the loft was structurally rearranged and the studio was built, the couple started thinking about how they wanted the rest of their home to feel. “I wanted to create little corners of play and work,” says Al-Issa. “Different areas must inspire different things.”

The upstairs level is cave-like, with a bedroom, Gair’s studio and, most strikingly, a stone bench handmade by the couple that doubles as storage. “Where I’m from, stone houses are common. Stone provides a feeling of warmth,” says Al-Issa. This nook is her small, private world, inspired by north African, southwest Asian and Mediterranean styles. She wanted it to inspire peace, inspiration and reflection. “In the diaspora, we have to recreate our original homes,” she says.

The pair cut through the upstairs ceiling and added a sunroof that’s accessible by a ladder. “For a house to feel like a home, I need access to the outdoors,” says Al-Issa. She, Gair and their cat, Abu, like to sunbathe on their private terrace.

Inside, under the skylight, is a seating area where the couple enjoys the sun while taking in views of the loft. “It’s a vantage point. You feel like you’re in a castle overlooking everything,” says Al-Issa. It’s become one of her favourite spots.

The first floor is Al-Issa and Gair’s playground, allowing them to embody their “work hard, play hard” ethos. It contains Al-Issa’s studio, the bathroom and a cozy kitchen with a hand-painted red refrigerator, plus leisure spaces like those for music and ping-pong. “We’re activity-based people,” says Al-Issa. “There’s always something to do here.”

Against one 20-foot-tall wall is a projector screen, which the couple use to watch their favourite series, like Orphan Black and Malcolm in the Middle. “We watch TV or movies every night. It’s a routine,” says Al-Issa. There are also rigged and fully functional film lights, courtesy of Gair’s work, that they use occasionally for creative and entertainment purposes.

The music corner is where Al-Issa houses her guitars, piano, speakers and the couple’s album collection. They’re currently listening to Lebanese folk musician Rogér Fakhr, Clothesline From Hell’s latest record and Sam Prekop’s self-titled 1999 album.

When the ping-pong table isn’t tucked away in storage, it gets heavy use: the couple plays to blow off steam and hosts all-day 30-person round-robin tournaments (the winner gets a Solem vase). “It was Gordon’s idea to get the ping-pong table. At first, I didn’t want it—I didn’t want the place to feel like a man cave. But, the second it came, I was like, Oh, this is it, let’s go,” says Al-Issa.

Al-Issa and Gair already had more than enough art, rugs, furniture and objects to fill the loft. Some of their favourite pieces are two vintage window doors that were gifted to Al-Issa by a friend in Egypt. The light fixture is from Morocco. “It’s important to me to have items that represent the places they originated in,” she says. “It makes me feel close to home.”

This screen print of Lebanon by photographer Christophe Sabat is part of a series on cities.

This painting is by Toronto artist Alisa Zanko, who sometimes rents part of the space to use as a studio. “I’ve had several artists rent this space,” says Al-Issa. In addition to the economic benefits it provides both parties, Al-Issa thrives when she creates with other artists. “Watching other artists’ processes gives me energy,” she says. “It’s exciting to be immersed in creativity and then come together at the end of the day to hang out and party.”

There’s also a sketch of the sun and a vase that Al-Issa drew directly on the wall with oil pastels. “I’d draw on every white surface if I could,” she says.

More of Al-Issa’s creations are on display around the loft, though she keeps only the imperfect pieces for herself. “I’m not precious about my stuff; I just keep the ones that aren’t good enough to sell until I can find a home for them,” she says. The shapes of the vases make them difficult to build, and the process of applying and setting the blue pigment is laborious. The margin of error is high—only three out of every five meet Al-Issa’s standards. “It can be a frustrating process, but the blue resonates with me and others,” says Al-Issa. “It reminds some people of the vastness of the universe. It reminds me of the Red Sea in Jeddah.”