The Myth of the Starving Artist
* Christopher Colm Morrin


with Hannah Rose Prendergast



For Christopher Colm Morrin, art has always been cathartic. Born in Dublin in 1980, the painter, poet, and singer/songwriter recalls being an empath from a young age. His ability to wear and experience other people’s feelings and emotions first set in as he watched his family fall apart.

Morrin turned to art, in its many forms, to make sense of it all. It allowed him to approach his own darkness as “a deep well of understanding and acceptance.” Combined with a background in psychology and the independent nature of an artist living in Berlin, Christopher Colm Morrin is on a lifelong journey of introspection.  

 
Christopher Colm Morrin Portrait, 2021 seen by Tobias Brust

Christopher Colm Morrin
Portrait, 2021
seen by Tobias Brust

 

WHAT IS IT ABOUT YOUR UPBRINGING THAT LED YOU TO PURSUE ART?
At a very young age, I quickly observed how people had a hard time expressing their own emotions and how they may have felt. More importantly, others severely emotionally affected me, especially my parents. Trauma was just a part of Irish culture back in the 1980s. People didn't deal with it that well. They still don’t. While raising me, my parents were quite vulnerable early on in their marriage. My father admitted he was transgender when I was 16, just as the family was collapsing. I had no brothers or sisters to confide in. I quickly absorbed their suffering and confusion along with their naïve decision to be together. It was a long, slow, and painful process seeing them depart from each other. It was also a common occurrence in Catholic Ireland for people to commit at such a young age. At the same time, my parents were open, wild, full of humor, artistic, and genuinely giving when it came to my creativity. Magic tricks, photography, and music were a major inspiration in my youth. I began to play guitar and sing at the age of 11. I was also captivated with taking photos and video recording. There was something very magical happening with my relationship with sound, words, and vision that led me to dig deep and discover the importance of art at an early age. This was probably the only way to comprehend the complexity of my youth and my environment. 


AS A MULTI-HYPHENATE, WHICH MEDIUM OF EXPRESSION HAS FLOURISHED WHILE IN LOCKDOWN? WHICH MEDIUM HAS EXPERIENCED THE MOST SETBACK?
Painting canvas has been the major flourish throughout lockdown. I was always spending a lot of time alone anyway, writing poetry and drawing. However, since Berlin went quiet, there was an extra air of silence throughout the whole place. To be honest, it felt glorious. I kept thinking about how the rest of the population has come down to the emotional pace of the artist. I hope that people have a better chance to reflect on their inner world, which is something I feel is lacking. I think it's very important for people to face certain existential crises in their lives for change to occur.

The medium which experienced the biggest setback is music, especially because of the impossibility of playing live in front of an audience. Luckily, we [the band, Landers] still wrote together and released music throughout this quiet period. It’s been difficult to see the arts suffer because of the pandemic. It’s not easy, and some of my musician friends are at a loss during this time. When our lives get back up and running, I hope the public will understand the importance of art in society before too much of it dissolves.


CAN YOU DESCRIBE THE PROGRESSION OF YOUR VISUAL ART FROM THE BEGINNING TO THE MOST RECENT WORKS?
I studied psychoanalysis for many years, and I had a deep love for music and poetry in parallel with it. However, painting was a form of expression that seemed to follow me for a long time, either through friends or ex-partners taking up the practice. It wasn't until I went to Paris one Christmas with a close painter friend of mine that this medium truly had an impact on my life. I remember we stood in front of a Renoir painting, and I suddenly just broke down crying right in the middle of the museum. It was a moment I’ll never forget. 

In 2011, I moved to Berlin and quickly became obsessed with life-drawing classes. I threw myself into all types of materials and methods. At first, it was complete chaos being frustrated with myself and wanting to learn as quickly as possible, to the point where I realized that I needed to slow down and respect the art form while listening to myself about why I am so affected by it. The insight into how I feel in life and what I am avoiding within myself led me to understand the importance of healing through visual art.

From there, my work became more abstract, internalized beyond just observing an object in the world. I began to accept the desires, the untouched loneliness, the shadow, and the corrupted selves within me. I also began to revisit a sensation I had long forgotten — a feeling of youth, innocence, community, playfulness, real longing for peace, and love. I am still very much on this learning path, allowing new winds and ways to guide me to where I need to get to next. 


WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR ART WOULD LOOK LIKE HAD YOU NOT STUDIED PSYCHOLOGY?
It’s nearly impossible to say. I suppose everything in life creates its impression on things. My years of study with dream analysis had a huge impact on how I view reality. The unconscious realm is fascinating to explore because of its emotional depth. It was certainly an academic push that helped me not to fear the unknown, and instead embrace it as a tool that can help creativity and personal growth. Who knows, without the study of the human psyche in my life, this interview may have never existed. 


WHAT ARE SOME SPECIFIC ELEMENTS OF YOUR VISUAL ART THAT SPEAK TO FRAGILE MASCULINITY?
Most men don't like to come across as sensitive, especially not in front of other men. It makes me sad that there is still this social stigma around men not being able to speak about how they truly feel. Elements of confessions and fears are expressed directly into my work, whether it's through text or certain movements on the canvas. Some would see this as a form of weakness on my part, potentially intimidating for other men to handle. It’s not seen as ‘cool’ or ‘manly’ to express a sensitive side. Part of my work aims to challenge the way men are dealing with their own emotions and accept the fragile side of their psyche, which is ironically a courageous perspective to take on. Accepting the collapse of a masculine identity can be somewhat liberating if it is approached positively. In the end, we are human first before a gender type.


HOW DO YOU KNOW WHEN A PAINTING IS FINISHED? WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE?

I feel satisfied when something important speaks to me that's unexplainable. It's a sensation of freedom even though you don't know if the artwork is ever complete, similar to how we remember a dream that affects us deeply, but we don't know why. 

 

.artist talk
Christopher Colm Morrin
speaks with
Hannah Rose Prendergast

first published in:
issue 30, 01/2021

 
Christopher Colm Morrin Berlin Atelier, 2021

Christopher Colm Morrin
Berlin Atelier, 2021

 

HOW DOES LIVING IN BERLIN CONTINUALLY OPEN YOU UP AS AN ARTIST?
I’ve been living in Berlin for nearly ten years now. I’ve said to people many times that Berlin has completely re-structured me. To be honest, it’s a lonely and raw place to live in, and I sometimes wish for a deeper sense of community. There are no bells and whistles to make you feel safer, no real distraction of a corporate, consumerist empire that feeds you with cleverly designed dreams. This lack of feeling safe and comfortable allowed my art to flourish. I think that it’s harder for someone to positively change in a large city like Berlin; it’s the reason why I’ve never left. You need to be especially careful of not procrastinating here because you can do that for the rest of your life. However, as an artist, I still think that Berlin has its mystical ways with the heart and soul of the creative type. It’s a city that can both kill you and teach you; this is what truly opens you up.


HOW DOES YOUR AUTONOMY AS AN ARTIST HELP YOU TO BETTER UNDERSTAND AND CONNECT WITH OTHERS?
As an artist, one of the luckiest things you have is more time. Time to reflect, time to understand yourself, and time to question your existence. Question everything. Being an artist creates more space to accept one's existential despair, to breathe, and to heal. Recently, a good friend of mine bought me the book Art as Therapy. It explains how one can see art as a form of therapeutic process. I feel art has always been this for me. It’s why I keep creating with such force. Most people think that the life of an artist is met with poverty and no real sense of security, but I’d have to disagree. Art has allowed me to see others more clearly. I get to witness the pain of society. I get the chance to reduce my judgment towards others and how they behave in this devastating world. I get to understand why people are so afraid of everything, and ultimately, why we all fear ourselves. Art drives me to the core of what it is to be human in the first place, so, of course, this helps me to connect with others more easily.

The myth of the starving artist is one that we’ve all heard. It’s a cautionary tale about the creative that struggles to make ends meet while they chase their dream. But what about the striving artist, the one who finds strength in being vulnerable, the one whose dream is continuously paid in full by the connection they have with themselves and those around them? It’s a true story about a man named Christopher Colm Morrin. 

credit header image

Christopher Cola Morrin
Detail of work “Moving with Music I”