Illustrator and graphic designer Christopher Green wants to start a conversation with you and it begins with a picture, writes Drew Taylor.
After years of interviewing artists I’ve learned a few tricks. The first is this: if you want to really get to know an artist, take a look at their self-portraits.
Flick through the online portfolio of Adelaide-based illustrator Christopher Green—better known to his clients as ‘Stoph’—and you’ll find several of them. One depicts him as a skeleton in a hoodie, surrounded in a green phosphorous glow.
Another has him in a cartoon-like uptake, reflected in a small coffee cup, drawn in the same style as MC Esher’s classic self-portrait.
Yet another as a purple-tinged zombie; one as a Rubik’s cube wiz; another as a tall waif hovering half a metre above the ground, oversized hands hung limp in front of him. And, of course, there’s his most recent portrait, more serious in tone than the others, showing a heavily bearded man with a gentle face, piercing eyes and a deeply furrowed brow.
At first glance, these pictures might not give the impression of an artist who’s formed an engaging and creative relationship with The Salvation Army, but look a little closer—both at Chris and the Salvo’s spiritual and social mission—and it’s easy to see kindred spirits.
Examine Chris’ portraits and it’s likely you’ll see a man interested in understanding the essence of himself and others: the framework, the ‘guts’, the heart of humanity; what makes him hungry and how it all connects. But nothing is more captivating than the eyes of his latest portrait. Forget the bear-like exterior; look there. In those eyes you’ll find a man continually searching for truth and change. A man consumed by his convictions and his chosen ‘lifestyle’.
‘I can’t go anywhere these days without trying to make something out of nothing,’ admits Chris candidly. ‘It can be leftover sauce on a dinner plate, it can be a bunch of loose coffee beans or empty fast food packaging—you name it, I’ll make it into something it’s not. [Being an illustrator for me] is more than just straight-forward illustration and graphic design, it’s a mindset that means I choose to see and interact with things in a different way, and as a result, I get to witness entire worlds and stories unfolding through my imagi-nation. A career (in my mind) stops the moment you set foot out of the office. Art, as a lifestyle, is having that threshold blurred until there is no line to be seen.
‘Creative people are my fuel,’ adds Chris. ‘Without surrounding myself with like-minded folk, I would hazard to say there’d be no real drive to do what I do. I find myself able to relate to any creative field, though I have the strongest bond to those in illustration. Artists such as Jamie Hewlett (creator of Gorillaz), Mike Mignola (creator of Hellboy), Jason Chan, James Jean and Ashley Wood would make up my “big five”.
Style is hugely important to Chris. He believes that without one, you’re just an organic photocopier, unable to create an original artwork because you’re too busy mimicking others.
‘I always intend for my illustrations to go beyond the confines of the page,’ adds Chris, digging deeper. ‘I like to captivate my viewers mind and imagination at every chance I get. I’d like for their thoughts to go beyond a simple “this is a nice illustration”. I want people to look at my work, and all of a sudden find themselves engaging with the characters or the content, to put themselves in the two-dimensional world that I’ve created then and there, and to imagine the backstory or context that sets the scene. I like to think that it’s a delayed conversation, one that I’ll forever be starting, and that the viewer will forever be finishing.’
With such an engaging philosophy, it’s little wonder that certain members of The Salvation Army were interested in Chris’ work; and it was this collaboration of minds and talents that encouraged Chris to recently take the bold move of becoming a full-time illustrator.
‘This may sound a little unlikely, but for a little over two-and-a-half years I worked as a salesman in a girls’ clothing chain called Supre,’ explains Chris.
‘Now, if you know anything of the company, that might have gotten a bit of a smirk out of you (don’t worry, I’m used to it)! But, if I’m honest, I found it to be a rewarding time in my life. While it was something as simple as working behind the register, or saying which belt worked with a particular outfit, I still see it as a time of affirmation for me—that I’m good with people, and that I enjoy serving them, too.
Six months after Chris started at Supre, he was approached by the Salvo’s Captain Rowan Castle, who had a grand plan to resource the youth ministries department in South Australia with all the media they needed for camps, events and initiatives.
‘At the time, I was attending the Salvation Army church, Adelaide Congress Hall,’ says Chris, ‘and having deferred my studies in graphic design indefinitely, I had lost my way as far as my artistic journey is concerned. Rowan created a position for me, where, in exchange for the use of hardware and software, I would produce all of the branding that was required for the state.
‘It was another two years of this, working at Supre and volunteering for the Salvos, until I found enough paid work that I could justify leaving retail and being a self-sufficient artist.’
It’s been almost a year since Chris made the leap into full-time illustration, and says it’s been far from easy. He’s finally bought his own equipment (a 27 inch quad-core i5 iMac with Adobe Creative Suite and a Wacom Intuous 4 graphics tablet), but admits that there are often times he doesn’t know where his next pay cheque is coming from.
‘Time and time again, though,’ enthuses Chris, ‘I’m reminded that it’s just a matter of letting go and letting God look after that sort of thing, and I haven’t been let down yet.’
Indeed, while the financial situation continues to be an act of faith, the creative connection between Chris and The Salvation Army has resulted in some passionate and engaging works—from creating the branding for nation-wide youth councils and kids’ camps, to revolution-fuelled T-shirt designs, and playful awareness campaigns—a partnership Chris has found to be enormously rewarding.
‘I’m always surprised to see one of my t-shirt designs being worn by a kid I’ve never met, or a poster of mine stuck to a notice board at a church I’ve never attended.
‘I find the mixed reactions [to my work] quite entertaining,’ adds Chris. ‘I don’t think I’ve done branding for a camp or event without someone offering up a negative opinion of it. It doesn’t offend me in the slightest, because I find that it’s that branding that speaks best to the young and those who don’t attend church.
‘Overall, I enjoyed working on the Celebrating Seniors campaign with in-house Salvo designer, Simon Robertson. The tagline was “Rock it with an oldie” and it was done to encourage young people to spend more time with the older generation. I got to draw a grandpa abseiling with his grandson, a grandmother being cheered on enthusiastically by her two grandchildren as she played a game of lawn bowls, and a young teen getting schooled in a game of Pong by his grandfather.
‘We went a little silly with it, not to be disrespectful to the elderly generation, but to speak to the younger generation, showing them that it doesn’t have to be all paper doilies and talkback radio; that it can be fun and that they should give their grandma a call.’
It’s not surprising that there’s a real heart to Chris’ ideas. Chris has recently spent time working as a youth leader at Salvo church youth group, ‘Revolution’.
‘The kids there are all so genuine and loving, because most of them come from a low socio-economic area, many from broken families and troubled backgrounds, so when you give them genuine friendship you’re rewarded in kind,’ he says.
‘They’re the kids I joined the Army for in the first place; the lost, the last, the least. In my eyes, they’re the found, the first and the finest. I love my family there and wouldn’t trade them for anything.
‘My faith and beliefs carry over into my everyday illustrative work, because I feel that I was gifted with a purpose, and my purpose on this earth is to create for my Creator. Every day I create is a day that I spend being thankful for the talents and gifts God has given me. I’m no preacher. I don’t have the voice of an angel. I’m no prophet. But, with what I do on a regular basis, I am able to reach and touch others, who may not yet know Jesus.’
‘Each time I approach an illustration,’ adds Chris, ‘I do so with the goal to evoke a certain mood, feeling or emotion in the viewer. I like to think that an image should be more than something that just looks good. An image should always stir up something deeper, otherwise you’re just wasting your time and squandering a soap-box with the creation of empty things. I also find that by putting a lot of effort and love into an image, a bond develops between myself and my work, which helps me to see its worth and be proud of what I’ve done.’
For an artist who’s about to turn 23 in August, he’s already sporting the skills, maturity and heart of someone beyond his years. The future appears bright; though, if you ask Chris, it’s not something he’s dwelling on too much just yet.
‘I don’t have any specific ideas as to what the dream commission might be,’ admits Chris, ‘but I would love to do more extensive work in the comic, film and video game industries at some point in my life. If someone were to bankroll a particular project, though, I would probably put all other work on hold to produce graphic novels—in particular, one that I and my writing cohort, Anthony Castle, originally envisaged in early 2008, but had neither the time nor the finances to see take off.
‘Without going into too much detail, the novel had a post-apocalyptic setting and embodied Salvation Army ideals. It was going to be aimed at young adults who don’t go to church.’
Chris trails off, wistfully. ‘One day…’
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