/ by Tasha L. Harrison
/ portrait by Eli Warren
Humans are natural-born storytellers. Tropes, themes, archetypes– all were established in a time when myths and legends were told orally around campfires and illustrated on walls with humble tools or an artist’s own hand. As a species, we have been rewriting the hero’s journey since the epics of Ovid, swapping out our hero for a modern interpretation and varying their trials just enough to make them a bit more interesting than the last.
The familiarity of this narrative occurs in words, songs and imagery that connect us in an instinctual way. Lately, there has been a movement toward reintroducing ritual and experiencing life with more intention, especially among makers and artists. Christopher Rico’s work has always been inspired by an innately human desire to understand purpose. “There is a primal need to seek meaning in the unknot, the unfamiliar; even the menacing and alien and rituals help us make sense of this,” he says.
Primitive and evocative, Rico’s paintings feel like an invitation to a more in-depth conversation about what it means to be human. The deep blacks painted in great swoops and arc with a Chinese calligraphy brush float in luminescent washes, lending an aesthetic that feels both new yet rooted. The brushes themselves are tools used in one of the most important art forms in ancient Chinese art. To become proficient at calligraphy, you must exhibit skilled brush control with grace, fluidity and an attention to detail. Masters of this ancient art form consider it a meditative process. For Rico, this is where work and ritual combine. “The practice becomes very focused because I’m never creatively comfortable,” he says. “There’s intention behind every mark or splatter, trusting that there are no accidents is itself a meditation.”
Rico uses black prominently in his work, to be specific it’s Mars Black. He describes it as, “every color, it’s primal, and infinite and primal.”
The bold choice is one that melds with themes of creation and destruction; each piece appears to be a snapshot, a moment of stillness viewed through a microscope before the atom disintegrates or shapeshifts into its next form. The black can feel ethereal and, at other times, so heavily applied that it appears to be a void you can reach into. Every hue, tone and tint of Mars Black is handled with the skill of someone who embraces myth.
“No one will buy black paintings” is something Rico heard often enough, and now recounts it as the worst advice he ever received. A ten-year career as a fine artist has proven an audience for his aesthetic and speaks to how people experience his work.
The message in Rico’s work feels weighty and vital at this point in time. “I think we have to make our own way; in art, in life, career, love. Be ready to stumble, be ready to fail, keep going. Never give up.”
It’s hard not to consider what imagery artists will create during a year of economic and social stasis. While Rico dismisses inspiration in favor of simply showing up and doing the work, his real-life experience does seep through. “I hope that people look to contemporary, living artists and realize that in a generation some of the work being made now will be considered alongside what we consider art historically.”
Art in these coming months and years will probably challenge and interrogate us in ways we have only experienced in history books.
Oye’ Studios Calls North Main Home
Rico has recently moved into a new studio in the North Main neighborhood. Housed in the former Daybreak Church on East Hillcrest Drive, it has been named Oye’ Studios. He’s excited about creating in one of Greenville’s newest collectives with artists Michelle Jardines, Jessica Fields, Rey and Patricia Alfonso, Signe and Genna Grushovenko, Jeffery Leder and Glory Day Loflin. Oye’ also includes an incubator space in its basement, currently housing James McSharry and Shannon McGee.
