Charlie Hunter was raised in Weathersfield Center, Vermont where he was home schooled in the house built by his Great Great Great Grandfather. Hunter majored in art at Yale University, studying with painters William Bailey, Richard Lytle and Bob Reed, architectural historians Vincent Scully and Alex Gorlin and designers Alvin Eisenmann and Inge Druckery. He lived in Northampton, MA in the 80's and 90's, working as a graphic designer and music manager, returning to Vermont in 2000. During his years as a designer, Hunter created over fifty album covers for acts on major and independent labels. In the 90's he won the Canson-Talens International Pastel Grand Prize.
Charlie Hunter now shows his paintings regularly at galleries in the Northeast and his works hang in numerous private collections. When not
painting, he runs occasional transcontinental music and art trains, live music events, and is active in local farmers markets.
Artist statement:
The new paintings are almost all painted on site in one sitting. They don't shy away from power lines. They're what I think our life out here in de-ruralizing Vermont looks like.
When people are looking at old snapshots it seems to me that fairly quickly they tire of the self-conscious camaraderie and forced smiles: they start to peer behind the supposed 'subject,' seaching with a hungry recognition for the dormant but hardly-forgotten aspects of everyday life contained within. Oh, right! - That's what gas pumps used to be shaped like! or Look at the toaster! or What were they thinking with the AMC Pacer, anyway? These new paintings, then, are not necessarily for now. They're for forty or a hundred years hence, when God knows what will look cool and what that we all approach today with a straight face will be subject to immense ridicule.
The way I've usually painted has been very tight and naturalistic; faithful images with a dose of morose romanticism. In the last year I have started painting bigger with cheaper brushes, old rags, paper towels and fewer colors. I like where these paintings are going. I want my paintings to look like music that pulls a melody out of noise.
The late, great Chris Whitley said this past summer that he loved the 'ragged line' of my work. I could ask for no more than that.
