We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Christopher Rico. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Christopher below.

Alright, Christopher thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Learning the craft is often a unique journey from every creative – we’d love to hear about your journey and if knowing what you know now, you would have done anything differently to speed up the learning process.

I consider myself an autodidact when it comes to painting. I don’t have a BFA or MFA, and my family knew nothing about art schools when I was in high school. I always sketched as a kid, but I never really thought art was an actual career option. I knew nothing about the art world except from magazines and films. I would say location and to some degree cultural upbringing stood in my way at the outset.

In my mid thirties I took some college art history classes, which I loved. In those days, the room was dark and the hum of the slide projector (yes slide projector) created this emotional bubble bath. I consumed the images and artists’ writings, and I still do so today. I remember reading a quote from Frank Stella that still resonates with me. Something to the effect of, if you want to be an artist, first you have to decide what art is, and then you have to figure out how to do it. The latter is honestly easier, the former can be a lifelong pursuit. In that environment I made a lot of pastiches and researched color theory. I learned by doing, and by exhausting every possibility I could think of.

Shortly thereafter, I flew up to a friend’s art opening in NYC and over beers late into the night he convinced me that my location wasn’t a real career obstacle if I came up to the city regularly and got to know people and became known. I did that for a decade to positive effect. I still live in the South, but I think what people are just putting together from the COVID years is what I’ve been doing for a long time. Networking can happen from your laptop, but sooner or later you’re going to have to swim in the waters.

The most important skill for someone who wants to be successful in the arts is, I believe, tenacity. Being able to get back up when you get knocked down. Continuing to put yourself out there after a hundred “no’s” is really key. Resilience and tenacity.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

My father was a military officer, so we moved around quite a bit, but rarely to places with high culture. I’ve lived on both coasts and along both borders, and I’ve driven across the U.S. many times.  Creatively, I’m primarily a painter, but I’ve also designed sets for professional theatre productions and collaborated with modern dance companies. I’ve done installations and produced a short film. I don’t feel I really chose to be an artist; I feel it as a calling, a Way. My work has always been spiritual in nature partly as a way of processing religious trauma, but also because I’m naturally curious about the mysteries of the human condition. I didn’t grow up around much art. But finding it seemed to answer questions that I hadn’t fully formed.

As I’ve matured and my studio practice has become more focused, the work is about simplicity. Simplicity is a difficult thing to pull off, and I’m heavily influenced by musicians and especially jazz musicians from the mid-1900’s. I think of color as chords, gesture and movement as scales. One of my studio mates said she thought of me as a composer. I’m close friends with a few musicians and I love our conversations because they inspire me, and I them.

I don’t know exactly how I made the move to pro. I decided to pursue it and fortunately didn’t know any better. I just kept making work, for years -hundreds of drawings and paintings and sculptures, many of them destroyed. I had some minor success and started selling work and I just kept going. I keep pushing and climbing and sometimes I think it’s really not about any destination at all so much as it is about wondering how much farther I can go.

I use giant brushes in my painting practice, some 3 and 5 feet long. I am interested in preserving movement in a static image. Several people have written that my work plays with time, and appears to still be in motion the longer one looks at it. I like that, and I think it fits with the idea of painting as storytelling. The stories I’m interested in are those told around ancient fires, gazing into the sky and crafting tales of gods and monsters. When I was finally able to visit Hagia Sophia, it was everything I imagined it would be. I used gold iridescent paint for several years as a direct reference to Byzantine art, so seeing it in person was life changing. The gold backgrounds, like the dark, shadowy umbers of Caravaggio’s work, to me represent the divine realm. Allowing space in my paintings is another reference to jazz; sometimes it’s about the notes we choose not to play that matter.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

I never dread coming to the studio. I have to force myself to take days off, which are every bit as important for creatives as for everyone else. I think the big reward is connecting with people through the work. I remember in one of my former studios the city water guys came around and dug up my front yard. They made planks for me to get in and out of my door, and were super apologetic. One day they were on lunch break and I came up and they asked me what I “did in there.” So I invited them inside to look around. These were blue collar guys, a bit rough around the edges but genuinely curious and respectful. I remember one of them said, “I don’t know nothing about art, but I feel something.” That’s the best review I’ve ever gotten. It made me feel like what I do is important and meaningful, and that it really touched these men on a level they couldn’t articulate but felt. I’ve had conversations like that at my exhibitions and at museums but none of them touched me the way that one did.

It was rewarding taking my kids to an early solo exhibition in New York. It was the first time they saw my work in that kind of context, and it was impactful for them. The space was adjacent to a collection of Louise Nevelson’s work and that felt like a big deal.

Do you think there is something that non-creatives might struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can shed some light?

I wonder if people understand how much work goes into having an art career. Yes it’s fun. But I am a marketer, agent, carpenter, accountant, webmaster, social media director, studio manager, and delivery service/shipping coordinator. Making paintings takes up the least of my time, unfortunately. I spend hours doing things I’d much rather outsource. Like any other entrepreneur I make money only when the work sells, and sometimes it doesn’t. I stress about money just like anyone else. I pay an extra mortgage for my studio and storage, and I’ve gone without creature comforts at times in my life just to be able to keep creating.

Also, with the arts there is no roadmap. Getting an art degree (or in my case not) doesn’t mean you go apply for internships and jobs, work your way up in your field, and then go home at night. It’s an all-encompassing and at times all-consuming life path. I’m always working. I paint in my sleep, and days or weeks later I’ll recall something and it sends me off on another journey.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.christopherrico.com
• Instagram: @christopherricoartist
• Linkedin: christopherricoartist
• Youtube: @christopherrico
• Other: I have a newsletter on Substack, The Rico Act, where I write about the ins and outs of the artist life. https://christopherrico.substack.com/

Image Credits
portrait by Will Crooks work documentation by Eli Warren