

Today we’d like to introduce you to Christian Hamrick.
Hi Christian, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
I grew up in Eufaula, a quiet small town in Alabama on the across the water from Georgia. One of eight siblings, my mother encouraged creativity throughout our childhood. We had no TV, but my mom would let us paint on the walls and the floor. This was probably where it started…I also read books constantly about everything, anything. Children’s books, encyclopedias, short stories, classic novels, books about Egypt, books about the rainforest–anything and everything, I was always nose deep between the pages. I was absolutely fascinated by all the different stories out there, all the different ideas, and all the different things out there. I had this intense desire to experience the wonders of the world. Once I packed my bag with a few of those twist-top plastic Kool-Aid bottles, walked out the door when no one was watching, and set out, eyes wide, for an exciting adventure (I didn’t even make it up the hill at the end of our block–I was probably five and being a small town all the neighbors noticed and quickly scooted me on home).
So, I drew. I found a way to explore and understand and imagine all the things I would read about…so that’s also probably where it started. Eventually, I finally left my small hometown and went to University to study Chemical Engineering. The south at the time, and most everyone around me at the time liked to inform me that art was a waste of time and was worthless…but more and more I didn’t care what these people were saying to me–more and more I felt the need to create. I found an old, empty cotton shipping warehouse and started living in it and creating artwork. It was expansive and dark in the warehouse, and I created work there in this raw way, desperate to create. I lived and worked here for around two years and then found a car for $200 and got in it and drove as far as I could, all the way to San Francisco. I drove straight there without stopping.
In the Bay Area, I lived and worked in a robotic burlesque theater, worked at prop studios, made art for films, painted murals, did weird projects for people going to burning man. This was my introduction to being a “working” artist. I did quite a bit of traveling in the U.S. and around the world before ending up in New York. If San Francisco taught me about being a “working” artist, New York continued my education–the understanding, knowledge, depth, and sheer numbers of artists per square foot in that town is mind-blowing.
I found an incredible opportunity in New York working for and with internationally renown and respected artists, studios, galleries, and museums. My studio practice in New York flourished and it was here I gained a more disciplined, intended focus with my work. New York City is the best art school I have ever been to…
And I am back in the South! At some point, at least in my experience as an artist, you begin really thinking about place and trying to understand it. It took awhile–and I think it was necessary to be out in the world, to see the walks of life, to be in the jungle, to be in the desert, to stand on top of the mountains, to rub elbows with homeless people or absurdly wealthy people, to swim in the oceans of the world, to find friends of all colors, shapes, and sizes, to consider different ways of thinking, to experience so many people, places, and times…it took a while, but I realized this is where I should be.
The South is such an incredible, special place to be an artist, to create, to conjure meaning. Over the years, I realized that, and I understand that now more clearly that ever. So, where I am today is in my studio, waiting for a layer of gesso to dry so that I can begin painting a swirl of figures I have been thinking about. It is November, but the window is open; the bird songs are coming in the window. This is where I am and more or less how I got here.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
The road has been rugged, slippery, dangerous, and oftentimes so overgrown that you aren’t sure if you are even on a road anymore at all–thank goodness! I think the smooth road isn’t always the best road; and doesn’t always lead to new places.
I have, of course, faced the classic struggles such as making ends meet, death of friends and family, or creative struggles. To me, working through these things is learning–learning how to make something happen, understanding who I am, and then ins and outs of adapting in an ever-changing, unpredictable experience called life. For example, early on, I would often find myself homeless. This did not bother me too much, besides the fact that I wanted to make artwork. The struggle to create with no place to do it led to seeing the world differently and understanding my work differently. I explored graffiti, made sculpture with rubbish people threw out, made site-specific installations, I learned to imbue objects and moments and then release them. I found a sense of freedom in all this. Even today, with my own studio and house and the ability and facilities to create artwork that lasts literally forever, I find temporality and decay so very important in my work.
I did a show over the summer and made sculptures of figures morphing and forming and falling apart. I made them thinking about ourselves as temporal moments and used mud and straw to build them. They are absolutely impermanent and made from material accessible to anyone–plain old dirt. And these works had such heavy impact–out of all the paintings and sculptures in the show these works sparked the most conversation. They literally brought tears to someone’s eyes.
Actually, today, the series of paintings I am working on right now is an exploration of our temporality… All this to say, I struggled, yes, but I am thankful because it brought me here and is a part of who I am!
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I am most well-known for creating artwork, specifically large-scale paintings and sculptures. I also create music, videos, and installations. My work has been exhibited internationally and is part of public and private collections. I am known for painting murals, my works on canvas, and sculptures using alternative materials and methods. My work addresses and explores quite a wide myriad of subjects, and I am currently working on a series that contemplates human presence, systems of belief, and ourselves as a collection of moments.
What does success mean to you?
I usually do not! Or at least, I don’t like to be too specific here as the meaning of “success” is rather arbitrary and subjective and can often lead one astray. One person’s dreams, goals, and priorities do not belong to another. That being said, I would define success as achieving one’s true purpose. The Oxford definition is appropriate —
1. The accomplishment of an aim or purpose.
2. ARCHAIC the good or bad outcome of an undertaking.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.christianhamrick.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/hamrick.studio/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_oUWnP3gT0
- Other: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMO-w4TrmWk&t=33s
Image Credits
All images courtesy of Studio Hamrick LLC and Christian Hamrick