Hotels thrust their occupants into a state of limbo even as they serve as a bulwark from the outside world. They can be both a welcome refuge and unsettlingly cold; homelike in their decor but cell-like in that what is there is often nailed down, and certainly not yours to keep. If part of a large chain, the rooms appear similar regardless of location, as Swiss photographer Roger Eberhard reveals in his photographic study Standard which showcases the unnerving sameness of Hilton hotel rooms around the world.

That there are no personal connections to the objects in a hotel room can, however, prove stimulating, particularly for artists. Maya Angelou wrote in near-barren hotel rooms when on the road—but also in her hometown. In the same way that Samuel Beckett flourished when he switched...