Cathedral Cove 2023
INTERVIEW Christy Quilliam
Christian Nicolson is one of those artists who has a hand in every medium. A true multi-disciplinary creator, his talents stretch across film, music, painting, installation, and sculpture. Best known for his bold, expressive landscapes, he’s inspired by a lifelong love of surfing, the sea, and the naked form. Art by the Sea describes him as an abstract, pop-culture artist: his paintings are free and vibrant, filled with surf scenes, beach nostalgia, and playful nods to film and music icons. There’s a distinct sense of joy in his work – a celebration of Aotearoa’s coastlines, and the sun-soaked memories of his childhood.
Dulboot in Search of Barebottomland 2010
His installations are just as fearless. Take “Toetoe,” for instance; a striking public work that made headlines after ruffling feathers among locals and council officials. When I visited Christian at his red-and-black architectural home it’s exactly what you’d expect: walls lined with paintings and sculptures scattered through the garden – each piece carrying that same mix of humour, honesty, and Kiwi influences that define his work. That same sense of connection runs through his film work. Nicolson’s award-winning sci-fi feature This Giant Papier Mâché Boulder is Actually Really Heavy, channels a playful nostalgia for the low-budget classics of the past. The bold, obvious sets, and gloriously fake props that shaped a generation of dreamers. For sci-fi fans, it’s a love letter to the imagination – the wonder of worlds beyond our own. Touring the film on the festival circuit, and hearing audiences respond during post-screening Q&As, gave Nicolson and his team a sense of validation: that all the long nights and creative risks were worth it. “The audience is who matters, in every format I work in”.
Early Morning Surf 2025
Christy Quilliam: Christian you produced, directed, and acted in the film This Giant Papier Mâché Boulder is Actually Really Heavy in 2016. Where did your inspiration for the script came from?
Christian Nicolson: Back in 2012 there was a film competition run by Ant Timpson – a big name in the New Zealand film scene. I decided to enter. I came up with an idea, and I wrote the script with my brother-in-law Andrew Beszant. We entered the concept and got shortlisted down to the final sixteen. From there the competition kept demanding more and more, and in the end we came second. That was a big deal for us. We were so close to winning, but I think our idea was just too big. Both Andrew and I are huge sci-fi freaks. We’d always thought it would be cool to make a sci-fi movie – but a funny one. When you look back at the old sci-fi shows we grew up with – like Blake’s 7 and Star Trek – everything looked so fake; the sets, the special effects – but we loved that about them. I wanted to make something epic. A massive adventure packed with every sci-fi trope imaginable, full of extras and locations – which of course, is exactly what you shouldn’t do on a low-budget film. But for some reason I thought we could pull it off.
I tried to get funding through the NZ Film Commission (NZFC) and through crowdfunding, but nothing worked out. So, I decided to hold an art-sale instead. I gathered up all my old paintings, set up in a kung fu studio, and managed to raise 30,000 dollars – more than I expected. It was enough to get started. I bought myself a RED camera – the same kind Peter Jackson uses – and went over to Australia to pick it up. Suddenly, professionals wanted to get involved: a great DOP, a miniatures creator, actors, and a wardrobe team.
It took around eight months of auditioning, including auditioning myself, and because I ran out of options, I ended up taking the lead role. Making this movie was a real leap of faith for me. I’d never acted, directed, or produced a film before. It took two years to finish filming, during which I built props while my wife Kirianne made the costumes. We were pretty broke back then. I had to keep holding art sales just to keep the project alive. Funny thing is I actually earn more as an artist now than I did then, and I couldn’t afford to make that movie today.
Beautiful Sky 2025
Christian proudly presented a book about the film, along with props crafted from everyday household items such as tyres, torches, car windshield covers, and light bulbs. They looked incredible, reminiscent of designs from classic sci-fi productions, all waiting for a potential sequel. The film was screened at international sci-fi festivals including Boston, Gen Con, and London, where it received multiple awards such as Staff Choice Best Feature, Best Sci-Fi, and Best Comedy. Expressing deep gratitude to everyone who supported and contributed to the project, including Images & Sound, Karl Steven, and Gareth Van Neikirk – he regards it as one of his greatest achievements and is immensely proud of the film. Christian continues to write scripts; including the sequel, a comedy western, and is currently doing a short film also. All this, whilst working on an upcoming exhibition and continuing with the broad scope of his career as an artist.
CQ: Because you have invested so much time into the film and then a sequel script, is there any influence from these projects which reflects in your other work?
CN: Whilst making the film, and after completion, I’ve had two sci-fi exhibitions which delved into the areas of the film I was making. The great thing about film is that are so many different creative aspects; making the props, directing and editing, overseeing all of the creativity. However, you cannot do it on your own, which is where I have struggled with my film projects. Art, I can paint or create a sculpture by myself. I am always pushing myself with my art, and it’s what I love doing. There are different aspects of life creatively that I like to keep getting involved in – not just painting, even though that’s how I started out.
CQ: Would you say film has now become your more favoured medium?
CN: It’s difficult to say because I don’t do a lot of it. I always want to do it, and therefore if I was only doing film I would want to paint more. I like doing everything, but I really want to make another film because I’ve got so much further to go with that medium. So much to learn and big aspirations, however it’s so hard to do and I don’t have that much experience. I’ve competed in the 48hr film competition. Some of those teams have Shortland Street stars, top crew and editors, and it looks like a polished thing – whereas mine was me with a handy cam, editing it myself. I’m a basic type of editor and so, if you can get others involved, you can step it up. By the way, the sequel I want to shoot I could do with a 100,000-dollar budget, and whereas the overall funds available with the film commission (NZFC) is now approximately 2.5 million dollars, I’m struggling to gain any success with my applications. That has been the challenge for me, however if someone gave me 50,000 dollars I could make it work.
Hot Water Sunset 2025
CQ: I’m curious to know how long the process is for you when it comes to your art, from the idea to the completed piece.
CN: Things will bubble away for quite some time. For example, I’ll know that I am doing an exhibition in eight months’ time, so I’ll start thinking about it and then spend a day coming up with some ideas. I’ll chip away, constantly coming up with new ideas, and then about six weeks out I’ll start working on the paintings. Once I get into the flow it will start to get faster and faster, however three weeks before my show I’ll still be coming up with ideas, and the more ideas that I come up with, the more I start getting into the whole machine of generating the pieces. I just keep going. I don’t stop until the day of the exhibition. I’m usually bringing in work that is still wet on the day. It gets very intense towards the end, but that’s the way I like to do it. The next exhibition opens on Saturday the eleventh of October, and I’m in the thick of it at the moment.
CQ: Do you find it hard to break away into the reality of life when you’re so invested in your work?
CN: It gets intense, but I do make sure that even though I’m in the throw of it, I’ll still go to tennis or have boys-night on a Thursday. I’m a ‘routine’ type of person, and I think it’s important as an artist to be self-disciplined. Every morning I get up, I go for a run, have breakfast, and it doesn’t matter how busy I am I will work up until dinner. I have a break for lunch, and we watch a bit of a movie, although sometimes I know I can’t do everything. Generally speaking, I try to find a balance to stay sane, however last night I was working until 1am and then was up at 7.30am. On a normal day if the surf’s up, I’ll go surfing. I like to work 9-5 Monday to Friday. But on the weekend I’ll work if I feel like it, but it’s ‘good’ work. And if I don’t have pressure to be earning money, I can have more fun with the work.
CQ: Have there been times where you have gone “that’s shit”, or you want to throw a piece away and start again?
CN: Oh yeah totally. You’ve got to know when to hold them and know when to fold them. Lately I’ve gone over a couple of old paintings which didn’t work, and it’s cool. You get a sense of the painting underneath coming through; I even did that on Instagram. I said, “this isn’t working”. I kept trying and trying. If you don’t get the composition right, or something about it doesn’t work in the beginning, it’s really hard. You can’t polish a poo.
That’s where design is so important for me, having gone through all that graphic design training at uni – I didn’t want to do design, I wanted to go to Elam. I ended up doing design because I got in – I didn’t get into Elam. I was kicking and screaming all the way. When I was studying design, I was in the print room, doing lots of artsy paintings and trying to adapt that to the design world. I had to use computers, and I didn’t want to – I was always hands on. Of course, I ended up getting a job and needing to learn all of that stuff. The flip side of that was it really helped me; all of the composition, the strict deadlines and generating different ideas, which is what I was taught to do. Learning that creative process from a design point of view is the foundation for everything that I do, whether it’s movies or painting. The way I approach an exhibition is coming up with thumbnails of the ideas, then I develop the best ones, just the way we were taught at design school. I tell my girls that’s the way to do it, that it’s going to help them. They don’t like to listen, they’re a bit like me – if someone suggests something to me, I’m “uh, now I can’t do it”. I have to find a way to make it mine. The girls are the same, they don’t want to be given too much direction.
I don’t purposely buy art books. I like to look at books, but I didn’t want too many kicking around. I did get Art New Zealand for a while – I’d always just flick through it, so inspiration would come, but it would be broad, loose, and organic.
Dodge City
CQ: You’ve had a lot of recognition from the art world, tell me about that.
CN: I was a finalist in the Wallace Awards seven times, and I’ve also been a finalist for the Fulbright awards – which meant another application, and then I blew the interview. I should have gotten naked. You know, you have this instinct, this is what I need to do. The idea is something that I would still like to do. I wanted to create this naked universe, to try and de-sensitise the naked form. There’s still this big stigma about our human body. I get frustrated that I can’t just get out of my wetsuit and get into my togs, without having to fall over because I’m wrangling a towel. I don’t give a shit about that, but everybody else is so worried about it. It’s pretty natural – we are all human beings. It’s liberating when you get naked in front of other people. I’ve done photo shoots and I’ve become part of it, because it seemed wrong making everyone else do it and not doing it myself because I’m too shy. I’ve had to overcome that reaction. Coming back to the interview, I went in, and I was thinking I should get naked to prove my point, especially because one of the panel in particular – a dork who was interviewing me who was on the board – wasn’t an ‘art’ person. He said “What’s the big deal about nakedness and art? It’s been done.” But that’s not the point. He was arguing that there isn’t any stigma, and it was at that moment I thought to myself, what about if I get naked here and ask the question? “How do you feel seeing me in front of you naked”? I didn’t do it and I should have done it – it’s one of my regrets to this day. However, being a finalist in the art world is a big deal in itself. If they still had these competitions, I’d like to think that I would have a good chance of winning.
CQ: Does it place pressure on you, having submissions accepted and being a finalist so many times? Do you then feel the pressure to hit that mark again?
CN: Yes, I guess there’s always pressure, however it’s a chance for me to do something different for those awards. That’s why it’s really annoying that those awards are no longer there. I have my career and practice, but when I do a submission for the awards, it’s always something different. I would push myself in a different direction and do something that I’m aware isn’t going to sell, but it’s going to look cool and be fun to make.
CQ: You enjoy that pressure, of pushing your boundaries?
CN: Yeah. There is pressure with what I do every time I have an exhibition. You’ve held one before and people are wondering what’s the next one going to be? I like pushing myself, but I also like being the underdog. When you’re an underdog, there’s less pressure. When you become successful there’s more, and that’s one of the hardest things – that’s why you have a lot of people in the rock music business who never make it.
The Lone Warrior
Music is another outlet for Nicolson’s restless creativity. His band Goon has played a special part in his life – another way to connect with people. “We’d play weddings, sell CDs, – yes, actual CDs”, he laughs. “It’s that same joy of sharing something with others.” Goon’s fourth album is currently in its final stages of production. Music, for Nicolson, sits alongside painting, filmmaking, sculpture, and installation – each feeding the others.
He began writing songs at sixteen, but it wasn’t until nearly thirty that he finally found the courage to perform live. “I had an epiphany at twenty-nine,” he recalls. “I realised if I didn’t do something about my music and all these creative ideas soon, I never would.”. That moment changed everything. Back then, working at Pulp magazine, his dream was to become a rock star – art was a side pursuit. Now, he’s juggling it all.
Like many musicians, Nicolson once imagined being discovered by chance – someone walking past a window, hearing his music, and offering a record deal. “A delusion” he says with a grin, “but one a lot of us share”. What matters isn’t the fantasy of fame, but the act of doing, of trying, creating, and connecting. “Even if you don’t achieve everything you set out to do, you’ve still made an impact, and that’s what counts”.
Nicolson has three albums currently available by his band Goon – Indie rock music with a hint of surf rock, influenced by trying not only to get – but hold onto – love. The band consists of: Drummer Andrew Stables: Bass player and backing vocals, Rochelle Laby: and Christian Wray (Nicolson) on guitar and vocals.
Landscapes were the beginning of Christian Nicolson’s journey into art; however, it’s evolved into reflection and nostalgia from his childhood. The colours and themes of his upcoming exhibition reflect the beauty and colour of the cities he visited, the landscape, people, and buildings.
Queen Nudist Colony
CQ: Lastly, I would like to delve into your love of the sea, the seaside, the rock-faces, and the landscape.
CN: I’ve grown up around Torbay – both of my dad’s surfed as I was growing up, and they still do. I was raised in that environment and I’ve always like going to the beach – it’s part of who I am now. I love surfing, that connection with the ocean – and so when I had my first exhibition it was landscapes, and it did well. The way I paint is very expressive – by landscapes I really mean the beach – and I gradually got a reputation for doing that. I started to do other things also, such as installations in the landscape.
I did this thing called the ‘Toetoe experiment’, where I collected a lot of toetoe’s which are native NZ grasses, and I started putting them along the beach-line and photographing them. Then I put them in the Auckland harbour – at the time it was a big thing – which I did over a period of about eight years. I would get up and put them next to the motorway by the harbour bridge. Every time I did it, I would look at them and think “Oh it isn’t big enough”, so I upscaled it. In the end I made fifty-five giant toetoe’s. Each one was made out of a big piece of bamboo, then I strapped thirty toetoe to the top of each pole. They were massive pieces which I dragged into the Auckland harbour at low tide. I stuck them out at about four o’clock in the morning. It took me several days – getting up very early – eventually making this big arc out into the harbour. People would be driving to work, and they would look out to the city and see these things sticking out of the water. Once I had finished the arc it looked pretty impressive, all these massive toetoe’s. I had to work to scale because you wouldn’t see one toetoe, which is why I made them bigger.
It got a bit of notice because I called Nightline, who interviewed me. However, I couldn’t get any traction with the work until I got into trouble with the council. Somebody complained that it was giving the local birds the willies, and then someone else complained because they thought I was using pampas grass which is noxious. The council sent me a letter stating that if I didn’t remove them, I could get three years jail or fined 100,000 dollars. On the same day that I got the council letter, the local paper rang me because they were interested in what I was doing. I told them about the council letter, and they asked me to send it to them, so I did. They published that article and next thing you know, I’ve had a call from Bill Ralston, the Herald, Three News, Radio NZ, all wanting to interview me. I got into the limelight the first year of being an artist, which kickstarted me into the art world, and of course the council backed down from their threats. In the end I set the toetoe on fire and did a big hoo-ha, and made a video. I had left advertising at that stage and was looking for design work, when I decided to do an exhibition which went well. My partner at that time did support me, but I was told to find a job, which is when I started working for Pulp magazine. I enjoyed working for them. I continued to put on exhibitions, and when I got made redundant from Pulp I decided I would try my luck back in the art world.
All the Things to Do in a Day
I wanted to start working on things that were important to me, so I delved into my childhood as a theme, which started me on the road to doing other types of paintings. I was forced to move away from landscapes, creating more figurative drawings and bringing other concepts together. The first one I worked on was called Little Hero, the next one Little Warrior – all, reflections on my childhood. I’ve still been searching into aspects of my childhood over the years, whether it is growing up in the 70’s or the 80’s. This has led me to the theme of ‘nostalgia’, which reflects in my current art – dealing with aspects of what I grew up with, and what relates to other people. It’s identifying that part of myself and being able to connect with other people. This art is what I showed at Art in the park. My work there is quite different from where I started out. I’ve got two stands, I’m quite lucky; one side is more landscapes, the other side is pop art and nostalgic artworks. This is a way for me to connect with the audience, and the work has done well – it seems to be selling. Over the last couple of days, we went to an exhibition at the museum on Diva’s, it was really good and it inspired me to do an exhibition on that theme. My girls are quite staunch on women’s rights – I have to consider many things these days!
My next exhibition is a reflection on a trip we went on last year. My wife Kirianne and myself, took our two daughters Skye and Grete on a six-month trip around the world. We visited so many different countries; Mexico, Iceland, Japan, the United States, Europe, Türkiye. Some places we hadn’t been before, some we had – it was an amazing trip. I want to connect with others through the art, rather than the audience being in front of art and reflecting on our trip. It’s not about us, it’s about being inspired by travelling overseas and trying to connect this through the art. It’s not about selling the work, it’s about the connection. When you do big events like Art in the Park, where you are selling your work directly to the public yourself, you get to experience people’s reactions firsthand. You can see what they are connecting with. Gallery exhibitions, are a bit different. Good gallery owners will give me feedback which I appreciate, but it’s not quite the same as hearing directly from the audience myself. If your work is in a gallery for two weeks, you might sell a few but you’re not getting the interaction and feedback from visitors, apart from the opening night.
The Royal Asda
It’s clear that he thrives on connection. He values the one-on-one with viewers – that moment when someone stands before his work and feels something real. Hearing the stories, the memories and the emotions a piece ‘stirs up’, is as important as creating it. Sometimes people laugh, sometimes they cry – either way, it’s that spark between artist and audience that matters most. “It’s a really good feeling for an artist” Nicolson says, “to move people – to share a glimpse of something familiar, a glimmer from the past”.
Christian Nicolson: Portrait by Christy Quilliam
“Life’s a journey, you get what you get… not everyone is meant to be famous. It doesn’t mean what you do, doesn’t have an impact on people. It’s really amazing to be creative, to connect with people, and have them enjoy what you do. It’s a good feeling”. Christian Nicolson