Click the image above to view a video of Hamilton at work in his colorful house and studio in the south Hills of Charleston.
CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- "I like to see the salt and pepper in us, the angels and the demons."
A little bit angel. A little bit demon. Lots of salt and pepper. His own words describe Charleston artist Charles Jupiter Hamilton and his work well.
Hamilton will be featured in a Curator's Choice exhibit at the Huntington Museum of Art from Oct. 16 through Jan. 2. Senior curator Jeanine Culligan said organizing the exhibit has been enlightening.
"You can't know Charly's work without getting to know Charly, and hear all the stories," Culligan said. "His work has always been narrative -- telling stories -- and somewhat autobiographical. He feeds off the energy of a person or a color, the vivacity of a place, a juicy news story or an imagined one."
For example, there's Hamilton's irreverent take on the Rev. J. Michael Flippo, convicted of murdering his wife in 1996 in Babcock State Park. Hamilton's translated the story into a work of art.
"They went to Cabin 13, see, right here," he said, pointing to the first panel of the multi-part carved and painted work. "He was having an affair with the choir director, you see," he continues, giving his devilish spin on the sordid tale. Then the angel in the artist speaks.
"I couldn't kill the wife. I couldn't kill a woman. I had a great drawing of her all cut up on the cabin floor, but I just couldn't do it," the gentle soul concluded. In typical Charly Hamilton style, he brings in a Bible salesman, and a later panel shows Flippo's wife and the salesman riding off in a big ol' Cadillac, Bibles flying and the wife drinking a martini.
His fascination with the news of the now-defunct Pink Pony men's club is revealed in the final panel, showing Flippo sitting in the "Pink Piggy Bar," eating pork chops.
There's a primal feeling to his art. He calls it catholic: with sin, redemption, lust, love, hell and heaven -- it appeals because it's childish with adult themes.
Hamilton talks freely about the price he's paid for his habits, mainly the demon of alcohol. He's in Alcohol Anonymous, and rehab and counseling at the VA hospital, where he chats about his U.S. Navy stint with other vets and draws ideas for his art.
There's a huge carving of a naval battle that will be in the Huntington show, "The Great Sea Battle of VA Rehab."
"It's a continuous sea battle -- a war battle -- these are things I used to doodle on the margins of test papers in school," Hamilton said. "And these were the sort of things that made the teacher say, 'That would be an F.'"
"I love the imagery of drinks and girls, but it's gotten me into trouble," Hamilton acknowledged. "Like Picasso said, 'Drink to me, drink to my health, I can't drink any more.'"
Born in 1948 in rural North Carolina, Hamilton always wanted to be a poet. Although a loner, his senior class voted him "most witty," along with a popular cheerleader he described as not having a humorous thought in her head.
The Vietnam War was raging. His Hungarian mother heard he was going to be drafted, so his father took him to enlist.
A lack of eyeglasses early in life caused a rift between Hamilton and his father, as he couldn't see to do what his dad wanted him to do, hunt. Once fitted with spectacles, he pleased his dad by becoming an excellent marksman. That success squashed his later dream of being a Navy medic.
"I was goofing up in every thing in the Navy, but then they took us to the shooting range. I could shoot like crazy. I even got to walk next to the squad commander," he said, mimicking a loping march. Marksmen were needed, so he went to gunners-mate school. After the Navy, he married a Japanese woman, the mother of his son.
His then-wife encouraged him to go to the University of North Carolina. He got a cable from her while he was out with the 7th Fleet, telling him he had been accepted into the school. He took three and a half years of literature and art classes on the GI Bill.
Another twisted turn in Hamilton's life was that he joined the Navy because he was a lifeguard, a good swimmer. He said he could never teach his son, Sandor, to swim. It haunts him that, in June 1992, his son drowned at age 21 in the New River.
Click the image above to view a video of Hamilton at work in his colorful house and studio in the south Hills of Charleston.
CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- "I like to see the salt and pepper in us, the angels and the demons."
A little bit angel. A little bit demon. Lots of salt and pepper. His own words describe Charleston artist Charles Jupiter Hamilton and his work well.
Hamilton will be featured in a Curator's Choice exhibit at the Huntington Museum of Art from Oct. 16 through Jan. 2. Senior curator Jeanine Culligan said organizing the exhibit has been enlightening.
"You can't know Charly's work without getting to know Charly, and hear all the stories," Culligan said. "His work has always been narrative -- telling stories -- and somewhat autobiographical. He feeds off the energy of a person or a color, the vivacity of a place, a juicy news story or an imagined one."
For example, there's Hamilton's irreverent take on the Rev. J. Michael Flippo, convicted of murdering his wife in 1996 in Babcock State Park. Hamilton's translated the story into a work of art.
"They went to Cabin 13, see, right here," he said, pointing to the first panel of the multi-part carved and painted work. "He was having an affair with the choir director, you see," he continues, giving his devilish spin on the sordid tale. Then the angel in the artist speaks.
"I couldn't kill the wife. I couldn't kill a woman. I had a great drawing of her all cut up on the cabin floor, but I just couldn't do it," the gentle soul concluded. In typical Charly Hamilton style, he brings in a Bible salesman, and a later panel shows Flippo's wife and the salesman riding off in a big ol' Cadillac, Bibles flying and the wife drinking a martini.
His fascination with the news of the now-defunct Pink Pony men's club is revealed in the final panel, showing Flippo sitting in the "Pink Piggy Bar," eating pork chops.
There's a primal feeling to his art. He calls it catholic: with sin, redemption, lust, love, hell and heaven -- it appeals because it's childish with adult themes.
Hamilton talks freely about the price he's paid for his habits, mainly the demon of alcohol. He's in Alcohol Anonymous, and rehab and counseling at the VA hospital, where he chats about his U.S. Navy stint with other vets and draws ideas for his art.
There's a huge carving of a naval battle that will be in the Huntington show, "The Great Sea Battle of VA Rehab."
"It's a continuous sea battle -- a war battle -- these are things I used to doodle on the margins of test papers in school," Hamilton said. "And these were the sort of things that made the teacher say, 'That would be an F.'"
"I love the imagery of drinks and girls, but it's gotten me into trouble," Hamilton acknowledged. "Like Picasso said, 'Drink to me, drink to my health, I can't drink any more.'"
Born in 1948 in rural North Carolina, Hamilton always wanted to be a poet. Although a loner, his senior class voted him "most witty," along with a popular cheerleader he described as not having a humorous thought in her head.
The Vietnam War was raging. His Hungarian mother heard he was going to be drafted, so his father took him to enlist.
A lack of eyeglasses early in life caused a rift between Hamilton and his father, as he couldn't see to do what his dad wanted him to do, hunt. Once fitted with spectacles, he pleased his dad by becoming an excellent marksman. That success squashed his later dream of being a Navy medic.
"I was goofing up in every thing in the Navy, but then they took us to the shooting range. I could shoot like crazy. I even got to walk next to the squad commander," he said, mimicking a loping march. Marksmen were needed, so he went to gunners-mate school. After the Navy, he married a Japanese woman, the mother of his son.
His then-wife encouraged him to go to the University of North Carolina. He got a cable from her while he was out with the 7th Fleet, telling him he had been accepted into the school. He took three and a half years of literature and art classes on the GI Bill.
Another twisted turn in Hamilton's life was that he joined the Navy because he was a lifeguard, a good swimmer. He said he could never teach his son, Sandor, to swim. It haunts him that, in June 1992, his son drowned at age 21 in the New River.
Hamilton is proud of Sandor's daughters, Stacia and Sharly, both artists in their own right. Their father was a vegan chef when he died, so Charly took on the lifestyle, at the beginning, almost as a tribute. Later, he says, it became a conscious effort not to eat animals -- "It would be like eating someone's pet dog."
His dogs, Reason and Loola, are his constant companions, and he describes one beloved mutt as "part Jack Russell" and the other as "part russet potato."
Hamilton came to West Virginia in 1986.
"I like the people, I like the mountains, I like the shapes of the mountains," he said. He likes the isolated feeling that comes from living in the mountains. Many days, he can be seen with the pups in Kanawha State Forest, walks he calls his "meditation."
"God talks to me, be he nature or whatever," he said. "I don't really paint anything in Kanawha State Forest, but I'm influenced by all of those imagined people who've walked there -- the CCC, the Shrewsbury Cemetery. I don't mean to sound crazy, but I see the people who somehow linger in this world."
The women in his life have been angels as well as demons, he says, laughing
"I've gone back to my early days of carving -- I don't want the influence of anyone else right now. I'm not being too civilized, maybe a bit cruder, in my art.
"Working without a muse has made me less tame," he said. "The wives tried to cut off the rough edges."
The humor in his work is evident in a cut-in-half mermaid sculpture. He found the inspiration from a gag in the Archie McPhee novelties catalog.
"You know, the one where there's an arrow through your head, with one part sticking out over here, and then a wire up over here, and then the other side sticking out on this side? This mermaid can have her head in the kitchen, and her tail in the living room," Hamilton said, moving from one side of the wall to the other.
Hamilton doesn't own a press, but makes prints of his carvings using a brayer to ink the woodcut and then a wooden spoon, applied in a circular motion, to transfer the ink to heavy art paper. Rarely does he draw the works, he just cuts with his power tools in a makeshift studio attached to his jam-packed home on Anderson Heights Road.
He lives in a solitary world with his art. There's art on the walls, the doors, the floors, the cabinets, and where there's no art, there are books and paints and all the accoutrements of the two dogs. Music in the background is old rock, blues, jazz and a little Hank.
His art can be found in galleries and collections across the country. Actor Nicholas Cage owns a Hamilton. Celebrity attorney Alan Dershowitz bought several pieces from a Boston Gallery for his law offices in Massachusetts.
There will be more than 40 works in the exhibition, including 24-plus new works. The museum will record Hamilton's verbal narrative about five of the works in the show.
"You will be able to hear Charly Jupiter Hamilton's words in his own voice, telling you the stories about the work," Culligan said. "It will make you take that second, third, fourth look back at the painting or relief carving."
In the early "90s, Hamilton worked for the museum, leading its rural outreach program. The museum plays a large role in the popularity of his nickname, Jupiter.
"My mother had hired a guy who milked on the farm with my dad. I had a red freckle in my eye, so this guy named me Jupiter," Hamilton said.
"I hadn't used it in years. I was taking my stuff to the 280 show [Exhibition 280] at the Huntington Museum, back in the "80s, and I was really excited to be in the show, and I was all pumped up, and I went to write down my name on the forms and, for some reason, wrote Charles Jupiter Hamilton. It stuck."
For more on Hamilton visit www.Jupiter33.com" target="_blank">www.Jupiter33.com.
Reach Sara Busse at sara.bu...@wvgazette.com or 304-348-1249.
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