dialogue
Charlie Russell | Artist
March 2025
6 min read
Meet Charlie Russell, an artist whose work delves into the intricate intersections of working-class identity, displacement, and the enduring imprints of memory. Through her practice, Charlie explores how spaces shape belonging and reflect personal and collective histories, using found materials and industrial textures to evoke cycles of renewal and neglect. Light, a recurring motif in her 'window paintings,' symbolises both solace and memory, contrasting natural illumination with the artificial buzz of urban life.
Recalling early memories of finding solace in light during times of distress, Charlie examines the disparities between natural and artificial illumination, delving into their behaviours as they traverse, reflect, and influence the self. Sunlight forcing its way into the home in the early hours after an unpredictable night, warming concrete structures contrasts with the flickering yellow light found in the fire escape of her flats or streetlamp dispersing through water droplets on the window of her dad’s car as she recalls them driving between places as a child. Ultimately, Charlie is drawn to the sensationalism of light; its presence throughout her life in the unpredictability of her mother.
In this dialogue, Charlie shares insights into her artistic journey and the profound influences that have shaped her distinctive approach. From childhood experiences to her transformative education, Charlie discusses how these elements converge in her exploration of light, space, and the tactile qualities of materials. Her commitment to capturing the essence of working-class life through art offers a compelling narrative that invites readers to delve deeper into the complexities of her creative process and the poignant narratives embedded within each canvas.
Hey Charlie! For those who may be new to your work, how would you introduce yourself and what drives your practice?
“Hi! My practice explores the intersections of working-class identity, displacement, and the materiality of memory. I examine how spaces shape our sense of belonging and how personal and collective histories become embedded in the built environment. My work is informed by found materials, industrial textures, and a process of layering and erasure, echoing cycles of renewal, neglect, and adaptation seen across working-class spaces.
Coming from a working-class background, I’m interested in how power structures shape our environments. How space is claimed, erased, and repurposed. My work reflects a tension between permanence and impermanence, reflecting the lived realities of precarity and resilience. I see my practice as a way to make visible histories that are overlooked, drawing attention to the material traces of people and places shaped by cycles of change. I call my work ‘window paintings’ because it’s how I’d observe London from windows in my flat, growing older and watching skylines change and seasons come and go, and narratives of working-class life like limited opportunities, access, and systemic barriers remained the same.
My practice is deeply personal and reflects on childhood experiences of displacement and my mother’s abuse, yet at the same time it speaks to broader socio-political concerns around class.”
How do you see your background or lived experience shaping the way you make work, the materials you choose, the references you draw from, or the processes you follow?
“I feel like instability and trauma from my childhood particularly when my mum was around and we were moving about a lot led me to zone out and focus on my surroundings more. I became attuned to the textures of my environments - cracked concrete, fluorescent light, scratches and burn marks in windows. These surfaces and atmospheres find their way into my paintings as rhythms and airy movements. They’re dancing across the canvas casting shadows and leaving traces or stains. I found escape in light and have always been fascinated by how it travels through spaces, how it softens hard edges, how it can feel hopeful or intrusive.
The differences between an artificial buzz of a lift light, or a cold blue of a TV screen, or how sunlight cuts through high-rise windows all carry something different. Light is a metaphor for presence, absence, and memory and finding those traces across working-class spaces feels special to me, I want to capture that.”
Charlie, you studied at two remarkable universities, Camberwell College of Arts for your BA and the RCA for your MA. How would you describe your time in those environments, and in what ways did they shape or develop your practice?
“Massively, being given space and time to voice something integral about me and something I rarely spoke about at all until I my first year at Camberwell, and for that to be received feels huge. When I left sixth form I went to work for 4 years in something completely unrelated until I decided I wanted to prioritise my happiness and go to art school. I’m glad I did even though I’m surprised I had the guts at the time. The people I’ve met along the way have made it a lot easier.”
I remember you once saying, “I just want to paint,” during a conversation about the art world and all its potential complexities. I really admire your focus, and your disinterest in everything outside of the work itself.
“Sometimes it’s hard not to get wrapped up in the complexities of the art world that I had no idea existed before starting. So I do often remind myself that I just want to paint. And when I do that, other things will happen. On the one hand I think I’ve got nothing to lose because I never had anything to start, but then I also have everything to lose because it’s been 4 years of risk and uncertainty and knowing that the percentage of creatives from lower socioeconomic backgrounds is really poor - about 8%. So at the end of the day, I just want to paint and live comfortably from that and have time, space and materials, which sounds simple but it really isn’t.”
As your practice evolves, are there directions you're curious to explore, whether in the work itself or in how it's shared with others?
“I’d love to explore installation and sculpture, working with light and glass. They both have transient, shifting properties where light alters space and feeling depending on time of day or season. Glass carries a similar tension because it’s transparent yet restrictive. It would be cool to physically recreate my ‘window paintings’ on glass seeing as my works are already so tactile.”
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