In the heart of Santa Fe, surrounded by adobe walls and sunlit vistas, artist Erin Currier has built a studio that is equal parts sanctuary and crucible. It is not merely a workspace—it is an evolving archive of human dignity, struggle, and resilience. With its layered walls, overflowing bins of colorful detritus, and the scent of glue and possibility in the air, her studio is a living embodiment of the very ethos that animates her work.
Erin Currier’s art begins where most things end: in the trash. Post-consumer waste, including fast food wrappers, juice boxes, torn maps, and fragments of packaging, collected from around the world, becomes her palette. Through a meticulous process of collage and paint, these discarded materials are transfigured into luminous mixed-media portraits. Her subjects are not the traditional heroes of history, but rather the quietly radical figures of our time: street vendors, immigrant mothers, tango dancers, environmental activists. People who, in Erin’s view, hold up the world with little recognition and infinite grace.
At first glance, her work seduces with its color and intricate layering, but beneath the surface lies a searing political and spiritual undercurrent. Erin’s studio reflects this duality. It is at once a place of contemplation and confrontation. In one corner, a carefully pinned poem by Rumi or Neruda. In another, a stack of salvaged packaging from her travels through South America, Asia, or the Middle East. This constant interplay between the sacred and the mundane defines both her space and her art.
A self-described humanist, Currier draws from a vast range of influences—Buddhist collage traditions, Spanish Baroque portraiture, revolutionary street art, and global feminism. Her practice began as a form of ritual while living in Taos, assembling collages as offerings and acts of personal devotion. Over time, that ritual became a practice of public significance: elevating the everyday into icons. It is no accident that her figures often bear a quiet aura of sanctity. Though grounded in realism, they evoke the reverence of saints, surrounded by halos of recycled matter.
There is something inherently devotional in Erin’s method. She does not rush. She listens to the material, to the histories embedded in her subjects, to the places she has walked. Every piece she creates seems to ask: What do we throw away? And what (or who) are we willing to see as holy?
Within her studio, the boundaries between artist and archivist, activist and alchemist, blur. Visitors are met not only with the tools of her trade—scissors, glue, paint—but with stacks of ephemera waiting to be transformed. Her process is intensely tactile and deeply intentional. Nothing is arbitrary. Everything is repurposed with care and meaning. Even the smallest scrap carries the weight of global systems, consumption, and memory.
Currier’s studio has hosted poets, scholars, friends, and fellow artists. It’s a space that encourages exchange and reflection. Through artist residencies across the U.S. and international exhibitions, she continues to expand the reach of this intimate practice. But no matter where her work travels, the soul of it remains rooted in this studio—this temple of transformation, where waste becomes witness and beauty is a form of resistance.
To step into Erin Currier’s studio is to encounter not just an artist, but a worldview. A conviction that the margins hold meaning, that the overlooked are worthy of reverence, and that through attentive creation, we might piece together a more just and compassionate story of who we are.
Currier’s latest body of work will be on view at Blue Rain Gallery in Santa Fe, opening June 27, 2025. This new series continues her vibrant exploration of humanity, justice, and beauty—crafted entirely from the stories that surround us.
Click here to view work from the show
Peek into Erin Currier’s travel journal—full of sketches, notes, and little treasures she’s gathered from Italy, Turkey, Greece, and Argentina. These pages hold the heart of her journey and the soul of her upcoming solo show
