“I Never Let The Kid Inside Me Die”: A Conversation With Givenchy, Supreme Collaborative Artist CHITO

CHITO has always let his work do the talking. The Seattle-born, Mexico City-via-New York artist’s instantly recognisable form of self-expression is his airbrushed dog illustrations, which he uses in his work to erase the stigma of graffiti scenes he grew up in.

Totally self-taught, CHITO’s repeated dedication to his motifs have become his own, hallmark style, with a set of characters that you’ll no doubt have seen grace your Instagram feed over the last five years. Blowing up after his breakthrough Supreme collaboration in 2018, CHITO’s rise has showed no signs of slowing down. Whether it’s on rare Stone Island or Arc’teryx Gore-tex jackets, becoming the first artist to collaborate with Veillance, his much-hyped Supreme collaborations or on luxury Givenchy fabrics, the same raw and unfiltered energy he put into his street graffiti as a kid has remained intact, yet under the spotlight like never before.

From tagging up walls, skate parks and trains to working on luxury designer garments, CHITO has never switched up his approach, with that realness naturally connecting with the likes of A$AP Rocky and Drake, who have proudly work his work over the years. That refusal to switch up is the exact energy that’s been channeled into CHITO’s latest collaborative exhibition, Always Change, Never Change, at the OMNI Gallery—a new space in Central London that houses pieces from up-and-coming artists through to world-famous work from Andy Warhol, et al. The latest chapter in CHITO’s journey brings his work together with fellow high fashion collaborator and old friend, Wu Yué, for one of the most inviting and arresting exhibitions in recent times. Along with CHITO’s spray-painted canvases of his mascot from his 2017 series, Distance Pups, and free-standing iron CHITO Pup sculpture, Wu Yué’s intricate bleach and ink illustrations of pop-culture figures like Caspar the Friendly Ghost and a white BMW E30 sit within the show space.

Ahead of his debut London exhibition, we managed to pin CHITO down for a chat about when his love affair with painting began, his creative inspirations, and why he’ll never allow his inner child to die.

COMPLEX: There aren’t too many conversations in existence online—do you like doing interviews, or do you prefer to let your work do the talking?

CHITO: I’m actually down for whatever, man. I’m pretty chill. It’s not like I don’t like doing interviews, I just let my work do the talking most of the time, like you said.

When did you first start your love affair with painting? Did it start in Seattle?

I actually started painting when I was 12, when I lived in Las Vegas. I lived there for a couple of years. I started at my local skate park, CENT—Centennial Skate Park in Las Vegas—where I’d be every day. We had a little skate crew out, but I wasn’t good at skating, so I was the filmer guy for my group of homies at the time. I ended up starting to do graffiti while I was filming because that was kind of like the other route to do growing up there; when you’re young, running around being a motherfucker, that’s just what you wanted to do—just hit shit up. We’d hit random shit on the way home. There was never any rules to what we’d tag up.

Do you come from an art or design background? Did you grew up watching anyone in your family doing similar things?

I’m not from that background at all, but I was definitely an artist from a young age. I used to draw all day in class. But I don’t come from a family of artists or anything like that. It was just something that came naturally to me, but I’ve always felt compelled to make art. And I always will.

Now, I’m not sure if it’s just me, but when I first saw your work back in, like, 2016/17, your hallmark style and set of characters immediately reminded me of Parappa the Rapper…

Oh shit! Parappa! Man, he’s a sick character. I really fucked with the style of that game—the whole universe, actually. I love those characters; the whole artistic direction of that game was hard! My drawing aren’t really from that at all, but now I can see why you saw that in them.

So what were your biggest influences for your work growing up? 

Once I started painting, I felt like I was going on an adventure—being out and about, running around, all those stories from just going wild as a kid. When you go out to go paint as a kid, it’s a new mission every time I left the house. You’re out there putting your freedom on the line from a young age, so going on these wild tales would just give me so much inspiration. Going on these little missions just to put your name on something, when you’re young, it’s just funny. Like on some, “Ha-ha! I was here” type shit. It’s that El Barto mentality: you always feel like fucking shit up!

Drawing the graphic ‘S’ into the table at school and shit like that.

Exactly. I never let the kid inside me die. He’s still in there, with whatever I do.

I feel that’s really important to keep intact, especially with some of the high fashion environments you’ve transcended into where there must be a lot of corporate shit going on.

Yeah, that’s how I approach it. We’re not making shit for people to like, we’re making shit that I like and my homies like. And as long as I like it, and my friends like it, that’s good for me. If other people like it too, then that’s cool!

What did you actually get into first: art, tagging or clothes?

Tagging, for sure. Before I started traveling, when I was only in America, I thought Polo was the hardest [label]. I looked up to the Lowlifes so much. I was like, “I need all the Polo I can get my hands on,” because that was the nicest shit you could get at the mall at the time. That was my mindset until I was, like, 19. I would just go thrifting back then—I wasn’t that deep in the drip game back then, so I would go into Goodwill and just find rare Polo pieces. 

So clothing’s always been a big inspiration for your work from the get-go?

Yeah, for sure. I was fucking with Filson because they were a heritage Seattle brand from early, too. That hunter/fly-fisherman type of drip. That’s their type of design and it had a local sort of feel to it. What I wanted to do with that was take this OG drip and blend it with my aesthetic—that was like fusing my upbringing with a heritage brand from my area.

I remember first seeing your work on the back of Arc’teryx and Stone Island jackets before your string of super high-end collabs. Did you always want to paint on pieces that had a connection to Seattle and the scene you grew up in?

My older homies back then had been around for longer than me, so they were just on-point with their drip. Seeing them rocking Arcy’s or 990s and occasionally some Filson shit, that’s what was cool to me.

Hard-wearing shit that also stood the test of time.

Yeah. Stuff that I could just go out and adventure in. That type of drip. Then when I started travelling, I started learning about even more brands which I liked and wanted to work on. I didn’t realise how much of an artistic process it was to make clothes back then. I didn’t know about artistic directors, creative directors and all of those roles—people who had a real creative vision which they put into their clothes.

What sort of brands were you feeling and connecting to after experiencing those different cultures?

Going to Europe, seeing the likes of Louis [Vuitton] and Gucci, that’s when I started realising there were whole different levels to this shit. It’s crazy seeing these brands that have been around for so long, legends who have had their namesake brands for years. I really respect that legacy. That’s hard to me. Going to Japan was also massively influential for me, too.

You don’t just do this for everybody, so how do you go about choosing your commissions?

There’s a few rules to it, I guess. Like, if I’m gonna do a commission, they’re probably like a homie already. And my rule for them and what they bring me is that the piece I work on has got to be something they value or care about. Also, if it’s a piece of clothing someone’s been through hella shit in and put value in, I’ll do it because it’s special to them sentimentally. If it’s a designer piece and someone’s spent their hard earned money on it—maybe like a rack or two on it—that sort of value in it makes it special. But that’s when it comes to commissions. For me, it’s just like whatever comes naturally; the majority of stuff you see of mine is just impulsive.

It’s now pretty common to see people draw on clothes, but I think the way in which you did it evoked a certain level of emotion and connection not achieved by many others contemporary culture—particularly with the brands you’ve worked with. Is creating that sort of emotion with your art important to you?

Definitely. I always put my soul into my work, and I really I care about each and every piece. I spend hours on finishing each piece and channeling my emotions into my work. Sometimes it can be chaotic. Sometimes it’s happy. It’s actually really dependant on my mood at the time.

You’ve worked with some of the biggest names in the game, and had pieces rocked by Drake, Travis Scott and A$AP Rocky. How did those initial link-ups come about?

Each one of these collaborations is different. I encounter a lot of different people just being out on the road and end up in different situations. I’d say one of the first ones was when I first pulled up to Tokyo, maybe my second night there: one of my homies hit me up and said, “Let’s go to this event.” So we pulled up and I was rocking some of the Supreme shit with Yohji, some one-off shit, but then it turned out it was [A$AP] Rocky’s event. He saw the piece and fucked with it, so I just gave it to him there and then. He gravitated to it naturally from the get-go. If he didn’t want it, he’d have just said no, but I think he was like the first big “star” liking my work.

You’ve gone on to work with Matthew Williams at Givenchy and have done some crazy work with Veillance. How did those high-end collabs come about?

Being Veillance’s first artist collaboration was a crazy moment for me, particularly from someone who just rocked—and worked on—a load of Arc’teryx back in the day. I think from there, my shit with Matthew spawned from him seeing my work there and on people in the scene we just mentioned. Matthew got the vision, straight up. 

So he’d seen your work on Veillance, Stone Island jackets and Arcy’s and wanted to work with you on Givenchy pieces?

Yeah, for sure. He really honed in on my work. That’s why I think a lot of the pieces you see in the Givenchy collar, in particular, look like a lot of my old shit. They look like my OG shit on super luxury products. It’s a celebration of that discovery on my work and staying true to it. Everything we’re making is super fire. Everything I’ve worked on has stayed super true to my own work and connected really naturally. It’s my shit, but elevated.

What’s the favourite thing you’ve worked on, personally?

My favourite thing is actually the shit I’ve got ready to reveal next. Different textures, different style pieces on different materials and settings. My work on barbed wire, for example. You’re gonna see that shit soon! I’m just gonna keep on designing and levelling up.

Who are some of your favourite graffiti writers right now from the UK?

10foot, for sure. He’s someone I’ve fucked with for a while, as certain people in the scene probably know.

Events like this Always Change, Never Change  exhibition are great for people in London to walk into as a casual art fan. There have been people walking by who are instantly drawn into the space and your work. How did this exhibition ome together?

I forget why I was in Paris, but I was out there in the beginning of the year and every time I’m there, I have to check in with [Wu] Yué. Having already worked together a lot, I knew a collaborative exhibition was always gonna work as the chemistry was just there. Our styles are so different but we use some of the same mediums, so it blended well together. Always Change, Never Change—as a name—sat right because it’s representative of us; we’re very core to our roots yet we’re always trying to improve with what we’re doing. I learned more about collaborative composition and how my simple drawings mesh with realistic detailed ones, from working with Wu. I’m excited to be putting this together with OMNI because they’re fucking with the next generation of artists and they’re really into the style of shit me and Wu Yué have been throwing down.

Get a closer look at OMNI’s gallery space below, and see Wu Yué and CHITO’s collaborative ‘Always Change, Never Change’ exhibition at OMNI on 56-57 Eastcastle Street in London now.