Hallie Packard
Hallie Packard is inspired by miraculous moments in nature that might seem mundane at first glance but sparkle with enchantment, seen or unseen. Growing up with the woods as her playground, she felt a kinship with the natural environment and a deep-seated belief in its magic—a recognition of beauty amidst chaos. Packard’s artworks serve as a reminder of the wonder that abounds and the respect and care it deserves.
At times, Packard’s work infuses familiar settings or subjects with the surreal or what might be considered “impossible,” often exploring the interactions between nature, civilization, and the passage of time. At other times, her paintings purely highlight the extraordinary moments that occur all around us but often go unnoticed. Packard uses her art as metaphors for themes such as nature vs. industry, climate change, and social/psychological dilemmas.
Born in 1991 in New London, Connecticut, Packard declared herself a “color artist” at age three—covered head to toe in tempera paint. Self-taught, she learned to draw by emulating the illustrations in Sailor Moon comics and various children’s fantasy books. As she grew older, she began exploring her own style, finding a lasting love for acrylic painting.
In 2013, Packard’s artwork became the aesthetic core of Boulder, Colorado’s FATE Brewing Co., the town’s bustling central watering hole. Her artistic career blossomed from there. In 2018, she moved to New York City, where she currently lives and paints. Her work is exhibited throughout the country and in Australia. She is currently preparing for her solo exhibition at Roq La Rue gallery in 2024 and another at Thinkspace gallery in 2025.
Artist Statement
My work explores a world beyond human existence, where the natural world once again rules and thrives. Traces of human existence remain, however, often taking on lives of their own or interacting in new ways with the natural world. I’m fascinated by light and natural phenomena, often daydreaming about how these might evolve and function on a future (and fantastical) Earth, in a time when things have shifted in ways we cannot begin to understand or foresee. In this new world, bubbles and crystals are sentient, light refracts and loops in full spectrum, and there is a calm sense of hope and harmony balanced by the dark beauty of destruction—integral to the cycle of life. I seek to further understand what it means to be alive by expressing my deeper feelings and emotions as visual metaphors through my paintings. Through my work, I hope to remind viewers of the magic that exists all around us on our beautiful planet and the respect and care it deserves.
www.halliepackardart.com
How has the environment you grew up in affected your art practice?
I grew up right next to the woods and spent much of my childhood as a fairy playing among the trees. At an early age, I developed a feeling of oneness with the natural environment and a deep-seated belief in its magic. Even now, living in the hustle and bustle of New York City, I feel most inspired and at peace when I’m in nature. There are so many marvels and micro-worlds buzzing all around us that we often don’t notice in our day-to-day lives, but that thrive regardless. I want my artwork to remind viewers of the wonder that abounds and the respect and care it deserves.
If your artwork was a mirror, what would it reflect?
My artwork would reflect my love for nature and my wild imagination. I remember when I was a child hearing adults say that they wished they still had their imaginations. This filled me with extreme terror at the idea of one day losing mine. I believe our imaginations are such an important part of joyful living. They help us visualize what we want, enable us to fantasize (one of my favorite things to do), and empower us to invent, create, and improve. As a child, I fixated on this horrific concept of a lost imagination and was determined never to lose mine. Creating my art is one of the ways I cultivate and strengthen these muscles, and it is my hope that my artwork sparks the imaginations of others as well.
What is the most difficult part (or your least favorite part) of your process?
My least favorite part about painting is cleaning up! I am a very messy artist and am terrible about cleaning my brushes and putting my paints away. What’s the point? I’m just going to mess it all up again tomorrow! It’s truly like pulling teeth to get me to clean my studio. Whenever people ask for a studio visit, I panic and turn into a frantic tornado, wiping surfaces and shoving things under and behind other things (mostly into my closet) to make it appear like a calm, orderly environment. Little do they know…
Pursuing ‘artist’ as a career is not for the faint of heart. What is the most rewarding aspect of this pursuit?
Being able to paint and create pretty much every day is truly such a gift. Of course, being an artist has its challenges, but to spend most of my time doing what I love and then to see that people are moved by what I create—it’s such a special thing. It makes me feel connected and whole. Also, just being my own boss and having the ability to structure and manage my time in my own way is such a relief, as someone who doesn’t do well with authority.
If your art is in a lineage of artists working within similar veins, who would be part of your lineage and why?
I’d say my lineage began as a ray of light that bent and became a prism, which eventually grew wings and got sucked into a black hole. Through a range of emotions, it floated up and out of a whirlpool as a very sensitive and confused bubble, which popped almost immediately, leaving behind a rainbow residue that floated atop the roiling waves until hardening and eventually swimming (more like squiggling) and finally colliding with the sand. There it stayed buried for some time, only to be uncovered by a stroke of lightning that hit so deep a sense of meaning and new consciousness was born. From that came a tiny pearlescent snake that ate all the sparkly things it could find until it was so big it burst out of its skin, revealing a humanoid figure who couldn’t do anything but walk and observe this wild world, trying to understand the reason for being and striving to be in the best way possible. This opened a whole bag full of marbles, which rolled around, grew in size, and began to obstruct the view of this wild world until all that could be seen by this humanoid figure was a distorted reflection of itself. It judged and judged until all it could do was dance, eyes closed, feeling instead of seeing. When its eyes finally opened again, there was a beautiful design in the sand—a transcription of this dance and also a path, which led away from the scary marble-mirrors and into a volcano, out of which spewed rainbow streams of imagination. These rained down upon the humanoid figure, scattering it into several shards, each becoming human and all walking in different directions.
