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Caroline Z Hurley is now CZH! Welcome to our new and improved world!

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Paintings: The Heart of CZH

Caroline's art practice is an integral component of CZH. The pieces below are original. Her current body of work is an exploration of painting with fabric. Some pieces are stretched and framed and some pieces are meant to be hung so that they have movement and flow. If you are in the NYC area and want to schedule an appointment to see any of the paintings in the flesh - email us! Info@carolinezhurley.com We'd love to meet you.

Caroline Z Hurley in her painting studio in Red Hook

Lady Lace

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Tracing Light

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Sunday School

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Lingering Dusk

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Chapel

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Sampler

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Before the Rain Came

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Blackpoint Farm

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Divided

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Baby Blue

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Polarities

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Keepsake

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Mountains and Mountains to climb

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Madonna and Child

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Purple Crown

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Sistine

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

Silent Night

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

California is Coming

For this work, I am pulled towards my southern roots again - thick summer nights, the muddy Mississippi, the way I used to dress up for Sunday School. I’m pulled towards the powerful and earnest works of the women of Gee’s Bend and the vintage hand-embroidered tableware that I’ve collected over the years. Read more on the journal.

gentle lion

These new works require a lot of time and space to breathe. The composition is simple and the work itself could be done in a day, but it’s the process that makes these paintings full. The base fabric for a lot of these works is hand-woven cotton made by artisans in Oaxaca. I lay out the fabric on my studio floor, paint, drip and pour all over the surface. The physicality of this process centers me in my body. After the fabric has lived a bit in this new state, I rip in into shapes – reminding myself (and the fabric) that nothing is permanent, nothing is static and for that reason, I never plot out anything before I start. The fragmented pieces sit on the floor of my studio, breathe again, and then on a day when I feel particularly energized I start the process of piecing them together. For this body of work, I have been particularly inspired by the women of Gee’s Bend. In their world of creations, there is no such thing as perfect, they let the fabrics guide them and it’s some of the most beautiful and earnest work I’ve ever seen. It is incredibly honest.

anticipating you

These new works require a lot of time and space to breathe. The composition is simple and the work itself could be done in a day, but it’s the process that makes these paintings full. The base fabric for a lot of these works is hand-woven cotton made by artisans in Oaxaca. I lay out the fabric on my studio floor, paint, drip and pour all over the surface. The physicality of this process centers me in my body. After the fabric has lived a bit in this new state, I rip in into shapes – reminding myself (and the fabric) that nothing is permanent, nothing is static and for that reason, I never plot out anything before I start. The fragmented pieces sit on the floor of my studio, breathe again, and then on a day when I feel particularly energized I start the process of piecing them together. For this body of work, I have been particularly inspired by the women of Gee’s Bend. In their world of creations, there is no such thing as perfect, they let the fabrics guide them and it’s some of the most beautiful and earnest work I’ve ever seen. It is incredibly honest.

Sunrise Road

These new works require a lot of time and space to breathe. The composition is simple and the work itself could be done in a day, but it’s the process that makes these paintings full. The base fabric for a lot of these works is hand-woven cotton made by artisans in Oaxaca. I lay out the fabric on my studio floor, paint, drip and pour all over the surface. The physicality of this process centers me in my body. After the fabric has lived a bit in this new state, I rip in into shapes – reminding myself (and the fabric) that nothing is permanent, nothing is static and for that reason, I never plot out anything before I start. The fragmented pieces sit on the floor of my studio, breathe again, and then on a day when I feel particularly energized I start the process of piecing them together. For this body of work, I have been particularly inspired by the women of Gee’s Bend. In their world of creations, there is no such thing as perfect, they let the fabrics guide them and it’s some of the most beautiful and earnest work I’ve ever seen. It is incredibly honest.

One Day at a Time

These new works require a lot of time and space to breathe. The composition is simple and the work itself could be done in a day, but it’s the process that makes these paintings full. The base fabric for a lot of these works is hand-woven cotton made by artisans in Oaxaca. I lay out the fabric on my studio floor, paint, drip and pour all over the surface. The physicality of this process centers me in my body. After the fabric has lived a bit in this new state, I rip in into shapes – reminding myself (and the fabric) that nothing is permanent, nothing is static and for that reason, I never plot out anything before I start. The fragmented pieces sit on the floor of my studio, breathe again, and then on a day when I feel particularly energized I start the process of piecing them together. For this body of work, I have been particularly inspired by the women of Gee’s Bend. In their world of creations, there is no such thing as perfect, they let the fabrics guide them and it’s some of the most beautiful and earnest work I’ve ever seen. It is incredibly honest.

Sun Down

These new works require a lot of time and space to breathe. The composition is simple and the work itself could be done in a day, but it’s the process that makes these paintings full. The base fabric for a lot of these works is hand-woven cotton made by artisans in Oaxaca. I lay out the fabric on my studio floor, paint, drip and pour all over the surface. The physicality of this process centers me in my body. After the fabric has lived a bit in this new state, I rip in into shapes – reminding myself (and the fabric) that nothing is permanent, nothing is static and for that reason, I never plot out anything before I start. The fragmented pieces sit on the floor of my studio, breathe again, and then on a day when I feel particularly energized I start the process of piecing them together. For this body of work, I have been particularly inspired by the women of Gee’s Bend. In their world of creations, there is no such thing as perfect, they let the fabrics guide them and it’s some of the most beautiful and earnest work I’ve ever seen. It is incredibly honest.

Sun Up

These new works require a lot of time and space to breathe. The composition is simple and the work itself could be done in a day, but it’s the process that makes these paintings full. The base fabric for a lot of these works is hand-woven cotton made by artisans in Oaxaca. I lay out the fabric on my studio floor, paint, drip and pour all over the surface. The physicality of this process centers me in my body. After the fabric has lived a bit in this new state, I rip in into shapes – reminding myself (and the fabric) that nothing is permanent, nothing is static and for that reason, I never plot out anything before I start. The fragmented pieces sit on the floor of my studio, breathe again, and then on a day when I feel particularly energized I start the process of piecing them together. For this body of work, I have been particularly inspired by the women of Gee’s Bend. In their world of creations, there is no such thing as perfect, they let the fabrics guide them and it’s some of the most beautiful and earnest work I’ve ever seen. It is incredibly honest.