An Artful Life: Chad Burton
I first interviewed fashion, still life and interiors stylist Chad Burton for a tablescaping story that ran in The Globe and Mail in 2022. By then, I had become smitten with his aesthetic – an idiosyncratic blend of colour, texture and nods to the past arranged with such skill and purpose that it may as well have come from a painter’s palette.
Burton describes himself as a “restrained maximalist”, and this mood is certainly prevalent when you step into the gorgeous condo he shares with husband Burger Kim and their cat, Terrence. Each piece of décor – some of which has been crafted by the couple themselves in ceramics classes with local artist Julie Moon – rests in perfect harmony with its surroundings; a thoughtful selection of hues envelop the rooms, and though definitely eye-catching, they never overwhelm the space.
So finely and lovingly cultivated is the condo’s look and vibe, right down to the renovations that were made, that Burton was interviewed for The Globe a second time earlier this year for its Designing Canada feature; and I was lucky enough to chat with him and a couple other local design savants on stage at the Interior Design Show Toronto last January as a tie-in to the feature.
I’ve also had the pleasure of working with Burton on a few product-focused photo shoots, and watching him manipulate grains of sand to visual perfection for one image was truly entrancing. For as free-wheeling as his ideas are, Burton engages with them in riveting precision.
One exacting project of Burton’s that really stands out in my mind is Blue Period, a still life and photographic series that was displayed at Issues Magazine Shop last November. A collaboration with photographer Elijah Yutuc, Blue Period saw the clever reimagining of a collection of objects Burton has accumulated – curious pieces procured from the shelves of Value Village, for example. First captured in their original state and then drenched in magnetizing Yves Klein Blue to lend them a sense of ambiguity, the objects take on new lives in the series, entreating us to take a second look.
My conversations with Burton are equally intriguing and always zesty. From his formative years spent in visionary cities like Seoul and London to the way he approaches his still life work, the insights he shares leave me feeling rejuvenated and keen to dig in to my own creative machinations even further. This is why I thought him the perfect subject to launch a new Opaloma series, An Artful Life. I’m so drawn to people who see the 360-scope of their lives as a veritable canvas; one to be approached with intention but also humour, ease and a sense of discovery and play.
Here, we’ll dive into Burton’s well-cultivated world, learn more about the development of his aesthetic and approach to dressing and decorating a room, and glean some words of wisdom that he has for folks who also strive to live a life that’s akin to a work of art.
I wanted to start by asking about your first memory of beginning to cultivate your personal style. What was that experience like for you?
I have a memory of my grade two teacher making a comment about a cap that I was wearing one day. The hat was similar to the style my grandpa used to wear, but I was a kid in the ‘80s, and the predominant look at the time was loud colours and flashiness. I remember her telling me that I was a trendsetter, and I asked her what that meant. As she explained and I came to understand, I was like wow, yeah, I like that. I want to do that more. That’s the first time I can picture really understanding that choices around clothing and style affected other people too.
Were you influenced or inspired by your family in other ways?
My grandma was a painter – I have a painting of hers in our hallway. She mostly did landscapes. And particularly in the winter, she was always tinkering in this little studio room at her house, working with the random things that she had: farm-related stuff like cream cans, and old frying pans. Any time I would come over, she would have art supplies ready that I could play with. And she had a ‘tickle trunk’ in her basement full of her old square-dancing outfits that my cousins and I would dress up in. I guess that was my first drag! But she knew my dad and my grandpa didn't like seeing me in those clothes, so when they would drive into the yard, she would open the door and whisper downstairs that it was time to come upstairs.
And at what point did you realize you could make a career for yourself in being creative?
I was a late bloomer in terms of my artistry. Growing up in a village in Saskatchewan, there wasn't community art programming happening. I was good at calculus and physics, and I knew that I wanted to get out of my small town; the best way I knew how to do that was to go to college or university. So, I entered an engineering program and flunked really fast, really hard because of the learning curve. But it was at this school where I saw people in the arts program and was immediately attracted to that idea. I started taking art my second semester, but I hadn’t told my dad that I stopped taking engineering classes.
Eventually I talked to a guidance counselor and asked her what I should do. She suggested an art program in Medicine Hat, and mentioned that she knew I was involved in the yearbook team when I was in high school. The program was kind of graphic design-based, and she said that if I liked publishing and magazines, I could go into that industry; she connected those dots for me. I was a magazine junkie at that time, but I felt so far away from that world at that point.
Speaking of your world, I want to talk about your living space and how gloriously customized and decorated it is. Tell me about the process of putting it together.
As soon as I walked in this place, I could envision the changes. It was very cold and stark – very different than what it looks like now. But right away I thought, I could put an arch here, and I could block something off there so that there’s delineation. And I had been saving a lot of paint chip colours that I liked. In a way, the process felt very organic.
How many versions of where you thought you would live as an adult have you gone through in your lifetime?
Toronto was never on the map at all – coming here was supposed to be a one-year blip in the sense of us waiting for something to happen. Visa reasons kept my partner, Burger, in the city, and we eventually fell into career things here. It was the first time we could start saving money, and we started nesting. I never thought I would come back to Canada after traveling so much; I never really felt that connected to it, to be honest.
Tell me about how your time living abroad informed your aesthetic and what sensibilities you’ve brought into this space.
My first time going abroad was as an au pair based in Amsterdam. It was one of the best summers of my life. Just seeing the way that people don't rely on cars, for example. Or how people buy flowers for dinner. Things that feel so grand and fancy are simply day-to-day activities to them. I also observed how people would mix new and old pieces together.
Later, I moved to South Korea to teach English. That was a shock to the senses, and it’s what got me into paying attention to street fashion. Really, living there is what pushed me into the fashion world. I wanted document everything I saw – it was so exciting and so new to me. It was also the start of the blogging era, and I had a blog; it was a great way to meet people.
Tell me about your blog!
It was called The XOXO Kids, and I started it in 2008. It began with street fashion, but as I got more into the nightlife there, I began doing nightlife photography. So it became a meshing of what people were wearing to the club with what people were wearing on the street. I started to meet people in the fashion world, and I began taking backstage photos at Seoul Fashion Week. My work was showing up in Nylon magazine and Vogue Korea, and I became addicted to being in the magazine world at that point. Magazines just felt like everything – even the smell of magazines now brings me back to that hunger I had to see my name in print, and to see the images that I created on those pages.
How has your relationship to the fashion world changed over time?
Toronto’s fashion industry is very commercial, and that’s why I’ve leaned into trying to create different things on the side. It’s also what has moved me into interiors and still life work – it’s motivated me to keep finding lanes that excite me.
And I assume that includes taking ceramics classes with Julie Moon? What was your experience like making things like that previously?
For a hot second in between my travels abroad I was in Edmonton, and I worked at a ceramics studio –a paint-your-own kind of thing. I was the guy that gave the kids the paints and I would glaze the stuff and put it in the kiln. But I’d never worked on a wheel or with actual clay. I saw other people I know making work with Julie and I loved it. Her class became my favourite day of the week; I could just touch things and create with no client involved. And it’s not high stakes. If something doesn't work, whatever, just make something else the next time.
I was pretty directionless when I took classes with Julie. But you and Burger have such intentionality to what you make there. How do you know when you have a ceramic need in your home?
Well, it started with me looking at a plant and thinking, it needs a place to sit. So I made a plant stand. Then I decided I was into columns. And then I wanted spoon rest. I mean, do I need anything in this place? Probably not. But everything works.
Speaking of which, let’s talk about your aesthetic, which you describe as restrained maximalism. What does that mean for you?
I think one does need to edit. You can have areas where things can be grouped, like shelving that you can fill up and create vignettes on. But to do that on every single wall or in every area of your space is overwhelming. Your eyes needs some rest.
Given how creative all the facets of your life are, how do you keep your juices flowing?
Travel helps with that.
Do you like going to the same place over and over again?
No, I'm not a repeat offender for travel. I want to see new textures! I’m always drawn to tiling and building cladding, and the colours that people use, and the colour combinations that different countries highlight…I can just feel my synapses firing looking at them. That’s when I start having ideas.
What’s the most recent destination that blew you away?
Madrid was really fun! I love the hand-painted signs and windows there. Much of it felt so charming and old school, but there are also modern takes on it. It was amazing to see a beautiful new restaurant with a hand-painted leg of lamb or leg of ham on its window. I love that somebody's getting paid to paint on a windowsill.
It’s really the original graphic design.
Yeah! The typography in this work is amazing.
What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who wants to make items for their personal space, but perhaps feels like they’re not artistic enough or they don’t know where to start?
Get high and just do it [laughs].
That’s my advice for everything!
Yeah, just go for it. Take class, like a collage class at Issues. If you find something introductory that gets you used to the practice of making, and of making mistakes, that’s great. But keep in mind that sometimes those mistakes can turn into what you actually like about what you’ve made.
Okay, let’s go back to colour for a moment. What’s your favorite color combination?
I love a baby blue and a red.
That's a really good one. Now, what is a coffee table book that you can go back to and feel inspired every time you look at it?
Ren Hang’s For My Mother. He was a photographer that committed suicide a couple of years ago. He used to photograph his friends like, semi-nude with fruit and with animals, or with plants. There’s just something about his work – the way he took a person ‘out’ of scene, and their body became about making shapes; I had him on every mood board back in the day.
And what’s the last exhibition that you saw that you really came away from feeling super invigorated by?
The last one that hugely inspired me was the Nicolas Party show at the Montréal Museum of Fine Arts. Everything about it was gorgeous; the mix of colours, the huge scale of the work – those big, flattened faces. I loved the way that the Museum staff painted the walls for the show, and they had furniture from the MMFA collection in the space that looked similar to what was in his paintings. The curation was wonderful.