Explore the work and perspective of contemporary abstract artist Christopher Durst, creating large-scale paintings focused on atmosphere and texture.

Contemporary Abstract Artist

Being a contemporary abstract artist has less to do with style than it does with the questions an artist chooses to explore.

Every generation inherits a different world. We experience different technologies, different cultures, different challenges, and different ways of seeing. Contemporary art grows from those experiences. It is not defined simply by the year in which it is created, but by its willingness to engage honestly with the present.

For me, abstraction has become the most meaningful way to have that conversation.

As part of Identity & Practice, this essay explores what being a contemporary abstract artist means to me. It is a description of my work, but more importantly, it is a reflection on the values that continue shaping every painting I create. Observation, curiosity, atmosphere, memory, process, and human experience remain at the center of that work, even as the paintings themselves continue to evolve.

I have never been interested in creating paintings that explain the world.

I'm interested in creating paintings that invite people to experience it differently.

That distinction has become increasingly important over time.

The longer I paint, the less interested I become in certainty. I don't believe contemporary painting needs to provide definitive answers or illustrate fixed narratives. Instead, I believe it can create space for reflection, allowing viewers to slow down, look carefully, and discover something of themselves within the work.

That is one of the reasons abstraction continues to feel so relevant to me.

It mirrors the complexity of contemporary life.

Our experiences rarely arrive in simple, orderly narratives. Memory overlaps with observation. Emotion shapes perception. Places remain with us long after we've left them, not because we remember every detail, but because we remember how they felt. Those are the experiences I find myself returning to again and again, and abstraction gives me a visual language capable of exploring them without reducing them to literal description.

An Artistic Voice Is Built, Not Found

People often speak about "finding" an artistic voice, as though it exists somewhere waiting to be discovered.

My experience has been very different.

An artistic voice is built.

It develops gradually through years of paying attention, making mistakes, questioning assumptions, and remaining willing to evolve. Every painting contributes something to the next. Some lessons come from success, while others emerge only after a painting refuses to become what I expected.

Looking back, I don't think I was searching for a particular style.

I was learning how to trust my own curiosity.

That process began long before I ever entered a painting studio. Years spent documenting musicians and creative communities taught me to observe carefully and remain open to unexpected moments. Those experiences eventually led me away from photography and toward painting, a transition I reflect on more deeply in The Journey From Photographer to Painter. They also shaped the way I think about what it means to be an Abstract Painter, not as someone illustrating the visible world, but as someone exploring the experiences that exist beneath its surface.

Being Contemporary Means Remaining Curious

One of the words that is often misunderstood in the art world is contemporary.

People sometimes assume it refers to a particular style, trend, or movement. In reality, contemporary art is defined less by appearance than by perspective. It reflects the time in which it is created and the questions artists continue asking about the world around them.

For me, that means resisting the temptation to become comfortable.

Every completed painting should leave me with new questions rather than the satisfaction of having found a formula. If I begin repeating myself simply because something worked before, curiosity begins to disappear. The work may become more predictable, but it rarely becomes more meaningful.

That is one of the reasons I continue returning to abstraction.

It encourages exploration instead of repetition.

Each painting becomes an opportunity to discover relationships between texture, atmosphere, memory, and material that I could never have planned in advance. The process remains alive because the outcome is never completely certain.

I explore that relationship more deeply in Why I Paint Abstractly, where I reflect on why abstraction became the visual language that feels most authentic to me. It also continues through The Work, where I discuss how those ideas ultimately become physical paintings through scale, surface, and material.

Painting as an Ongoing Conversation

I've never thought of a finished painting as the conclusion of an idea.

If anything, it marks the beginning of a new conversation.

Every completed work changes the way I approach the next canvas. It reveals possibilities I hadn't considered before while quietly exposing assumptions that no longer serve the work. That continual process of learning is one of the reasons I find painting so rewarding. No matter how much experience I gain, there is always another question waiting beyond the finished surface.

I think that's part of what it means to be a contemporary artist today.

Not simply to create work in the present, but to remain genuinely engaged with the present. To observe carefully. To stay intellectually curious. To allow new experiences to reshape old ideas instead of protecting them.

That openness extends beyond the studio itself. Travel, conversations, music, architecture, and the countless small experiences of everyday life continue influencing the way I think about painting. Those influences are rarely visible as literal subject matter, yet they quietly shape every decision I make.

Living and working in Austin has also become an important part of that conversation. The city's independent spirit, creative energy, and willingness to embrace experimentation continue encouraging my own work in unexpected ways. I explore that relationship further in Austin Abstract Artist, where I reflect on how place influences both perspective and creative practice.

The paintings continue to evolve because I continue to evolve.

I hope they always will.

The Work Is Never Finished

One of the things I appreciate most about calling myself a contemporary abstract artist is that the description leaves room for growth.

I don't expect my work to look exactly the same ten years from now.

I hope it doesn't.

Every new painting teaches me something that changes the next one. Sometimes that lesson comes through a successful decision. Other times it comes from uncertainty, revision, or discovering that an idea I believed would work simply doesn't. All of it becomes part of the work.

I've come to believe that an artist's identity should never become a destination.

It should remain a process.

Labels can be useful because they help people understand the broad nature of an artist's work, but they can also become limiting if they encourage repetition instead of exploration. I never want to feel as though I am protecting a style simply because it has become recognizable. I'd rather remain open to new questions, new materials, and new ways of seeing than spend my career repeating what I already know.

That philosophy continues to shape every decision I make in the studio. Curiosity remains more valuable than certainty. Exploration matters more than predictability. The paintings continue changing because I continue changing, and I see that as one of the greatest privileges of living a creative life.

Continuing the Conversation

The ideas introduced here naturally connect with the broader conversations throughout this library. Understanding the Work explores how abstraction communicates through atmosphere, texture, and emotional experience, while Influences & Perspective reflects on the observations, memories, and experiences that continue shaping my work beyond the studio. For readers interested in how those ideas become physical paintings through experimentation and revision, Texture & Process follows each work from the first mark to the finished surface. Together, these essays offer a deeper understanding of the philosophy that continues guiding my work as a contemporary abstract artist.

Being a contemporary abstract artist is not simply about making paintings in the present.

It is about remaining present while making them.

It means paying attention to the world, remaining open to change, and accepting that every finished painting is only one moment within a much longer creative journey.

I don't expect that journey to ever be complete.

I hope it never is.

Continue Exploring

If you'd like to explore how different materials contribute to the character and surface of my work, continue with Mixed Media Artist.

To discover how my work fits within the broader tradition of American abstraction, continue with American Abstract Artist.

If you're interested in how living and working in Texas continues to shape my perspective, continue with Texas Abstract Artist.