Today we’d like to introduce you to Tiff Urquhart.
Hi Tiff, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
I moved to Philadelphia with what was probably a slightly delusional goal: I wanted to be on the walls of the city.
Not me. My artwork.
I wanted to make things that stopped people for a second. Something that made them feel something, think about something, or see their city a little differently. I didn’t really have a roadmap for how to make that happen. I just knew I wanted to do it.
Of course, wanting to be an artist doesn’t mean your bills suddenly disappear. So I continued working as a massage therapist to pay the bills, and painted every chance I got. My free time became art time. Nights, weekends, whenever I could squeeze it in. I was basically living two lives.
Then COVID happened.
Everything stopped. Except, for me, the art.
I couldn’t massage anymore, so suddenly I had something I had never really had before: time. I took it as an opportunity instead of a setback. I started going into the streets constantly. I was putting up street art, developing ideas, walking around looking at walls and buildings and imagining what could exist there. I became obsessed with it.
And I started emailing people.
Big corporations. Sports teams. Organizations. Anyone I thought might give me a chance.
Most of the time, nobody answered.
When they did, it was usually a no.
So I kept emailing.
Eventually, one of those no’s turned into a yes.
A couple months before Pride, I walked into West Elm on Broad and Chestnut and basically asked a question: Do you work with local artists for your window displays?
They said yes.
So I poured everything I had into it.
And suddenly, my work was sitting in a window on Broad and Chestnut — one of the busiest intersections in Philadelphia. I remember looking at it and thinking, *How the hell did this happen?*
That one opportunity started opening doors I couldn’t have forced open myself.
Kalaya reached out and asked me to paint their streeteries at their original location near the Italian Market. Eventually my work was inside the restaurant too, and then it ended up being featured when *Somebody Feed Phil* filmed there.
The Philadelphia International Airport got back to me about an entire display in Terminal C.
Then the Eagles reached out for poster art, and later for a Pride mural.
Then Del Rossi’s, when Nish became the new owner. I worked with him on murals, rebranding, and design, and got to be part of what he was building around great food, doing things well, and genuinely caring about customers.
Then came opportunities with Joel Embiid, the NBA, the Philadelphia Union, MLB, Under Armour, and others.
I say that with a lot of gratitude because none of it happened overnight, and none of it happened because I suddenly became some incredible artist that everyone discovered.
It happened because I kept showing up.
I think that’s one of the biggest things I’ve learned: you can’t just make art in your studio, decide you’re a great artist, and wait for the world to find you. Maybe that happens for a tiny percentage of people. For most of us, it doesn’t.
You have to put yourself out there.
You have to be willing to look a little crazy. You have to be vulnerable enough to ask. You have to hear no over and over again without letting it become your identity.
And you have to keep growing.
I’ve always believed that where your energy goes, your energy flows. If you want something badly enough, you have to find a way to move toward it. Sometimes that means taking the opportunity in front of you. Sometimes it means creating the opportunity yourself.
For me, the goal was never really about having my name attached to a bunch of projects. I wanted to make a career out of doing what I love — taking everything happening inside my head and translating it into something other people can experience.
There’s a lot going on in there. Colors. Energy. Nature. Humans. Culture. Things I observe. Things that bother me. Things that inspire me. Things I don’t understand. Things I want people to think about.
I put all of that into the work.
So I guess my story is really just about following that instinct relentlessly.
I don’t really know how to do things halfway. I’ve never been particularly interested in it. If I’m going to do something, I want to throw everything I have at it — probably more than I should sometimes.
That’s how I got here.
And, honestly, I still feel like I’m just getting started.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
No, it definitely hasn’t been a smooth road.
During COVID, while I was trying to figure out how to turn my art into a career, my apartment building on Spruce Street caught fire. Then, when I finally moved into a new place, a pipe burst and flooded that building.
There were bigger things happening too. Watching people around me experience violence and illness. Seeing the state of the world. Losing family members. Having people try to steal my dogs. Just dealing with the reality of being a human being while simultaneously trying to build something from nothing.
And then there’s the struggle that nobody really sees.
It’s waking up the next day and doing it again.
Coming up with the next idea. Sending the next email. Finding the next opportunity. Figuring out how to make the dream financially sustainable. Posting when you don’t feel like posting. Answering emails. Doing accounting. Marketing. Sales. Social media. Photography. Writing. Project management. Client relations. Production. Shipping. Bookkeeping. Cleaning the studio. Being the assistant, the strategist, the creative director, the marketer, the salesperson, the art director, the operations department — and, somewhere in the middle of all of that, actually being the artist.
When you work for yourself, there really isn’t anyone coming to make sure you did the work that day.
So structure has become incredibly important to me.
There’s a romantic idea of being an artist where you just wake up inspired, make something beautiful, and somehow a career happens around it. The reality is much less glamorous. A huge part of it is discipline. It’s doing the boring things consistently. It’s creating a routine. It’s staying focused when there’s no immediate reward. It’s protecting your time and your energy.
And then figuring out how to have a life outside of the work.
That part is hard too.
You have to make time for friends, relationships, your health, your family, your dogs, doing absolutely nothing sometimes. You have to give your brain somewhere to go besides work, or eventually you have nothing left to give your work.
So no, it hasn’t been smooth.
But I’m not sure I would want it to have been.
Every difficult thing has forced me to adapt. It’s taught me patience. It’s made me more disciplined, more resilient, and more aware of what actually matters to me.
I think you learn a lot about yourself when things don’t go according to plan.
You either let it stop you, or you figure out how to keep moving.
For me, I’ve always tried to keep moving.
And I think all of those experiences — the good, the bad, the completely unexpected — end up finding their way into the work somehow.
They make me a better artist because they make me a better observer.
And ultimately, a better person.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
My work is probably best described as contemporary art with a street-art sensibility. I work across a lot of different mediums and formats — painting, murals, mixed media, installations, public art, live painting, design, and creative direction. I’ve never been particularly interested in putting myself into one box.
At the center of everything is painting.
I’m interested in color, movement, pattern, texture, nature, culture, people, and all of the strange little things I notice in everyday life. There’s a lot happening in my head all the time. Definitely neurodivergent and making art is how I process it. Sometimes that becomes a large-scale mural. Sometimes it becomes a painting. Sometimes it becomes an installation or an entirely different idea.
I think I’m probably best known for my murals and public-facing work, especially projects where the art has to exist within a larger environment. I love taking a blank wall or an overlooked space and completely changing the way it feels.
But what I’m most proud of isn’t necessarily one particular piece or project.
It’s the fact that I’ve been able to build a career around my own perspective.
I started with a pretty simple idea: I wanted my work out in the world where people could actually experience it. Since then, I’ve gotten to create work for and alongside some incredible organizations, brands, athletes, restaurants, sports teams, and communities. But I’m especially proud that I’ve been able to do that without losing the reason I started making art in the first place.
I think what sets me apart is probably the combination of how I think and how I work.
I’m extremely curious. I pay attention to everything. I’m constantly observing people, architecture, nature, advertising, conversations, colors, textures, culture — basically anything that gives me an idea. I don’t really turn that part of my brain off.
And then I’m obsessive about execution.
I don’t want to just put something on a wall. I want to understand the space, the people who are going to experience it, the story behind the place, and what the artwork can add to it.
I also don’t want my work to feel overly precious. Art can be serious without taking itself too seriously. It can be beautiful, weird, playful, uncomfortable, energetic, or all of those things at once.
I think that’s probably the biggest thing I bring to the work: I’m not trying to make what everyone else is making.
I’m trying to make something that could only have come from me.
And I’m still figuring out exactly what that means.
That’s the part I enjoy most.
Alright so before we go can you talk to us a bit about how people can work with you, collaborate with you or support you?
Honestly, just ask.
I love new interactions, new ideas, and figuring out how people and ideas can come together in ways that make sense. I’m open to all kinds of collaborations — murals, installations, creative projects, brand partnerships, live painting, design, community projects, or something that doesn’t really have a category yet.
Some of my favorite work has come from conversations that started with, “What if we tried this?”
I like taking someone else’s vision, bringing my perspective into it, and finding that place where the two become something neither of us would have created alone.
I also think collaboration is a huge part of being human. We’re constantly influencing, inspiring, learning from, and creating with one another. None of us exists completely on our own.
So if you have an idea, a space, a project, a brand, a wall, an event, or even just a weird thought you think might turn into something — reach out.
We can figure out the rest together.
If you mean by how can they contact me? My website or social media. www.studiourquh.art or @urquh.art
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.studiourquh.art
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/urquh.art/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tiffurq
- Other: https://www.tiktok.com/@urquh.art
