Erin Lynn Welsh

Beginnings

How did you become a muralist? Was it a straight line or did you arrive here sideways?

It was a pretty straight line, but it took some time and the right opportunity. I've always loved painting big. In my 20s, I started doing scenic work and painting 50-by-50-foot backdrops and larger, alongside my studio painting practice.

I don't see myself as a muralist. To me, murals are an extension of my painting practice, a translation of my work onto more permanent surfaces.

What inspired you to start painting?

I think painting was always around me. It was intuitive, so it never really felt like a decision to become a painter. It was just part of me. Both of my grandmothers were painters, and one of them painted in a trompe l'oeil style despite having no formal training or art education.

I was also a very energetic kid, and painting was one of the few things that could actually keep me still. My mother would put me in front of an easel and, for a little while, I'd completely disappear into it.

There's also something meaningful to me about being the first generation of women on both sides of my family to go to college, earn degrees, and then pursue something as uncertain and difficult as a life in art. In some ways, I feel like I'm carrying that creative lineage forward while also taking it somewhere they didn't necessarily have the opportunity to go.

Evolution

What have you learned about creating spaces for people to experience art?

I've learned that creating a space for people to experience art is very different from simply putting art in a space.

I learned a lot of this through my Botany Mono series, where I painted more than 100 paintings inspired by the book Reasons for Flowers, by Stephen Buchmann. What really stayed with me was watching people begin to purchase those paintings without knowing the inspiration behind them, and then hearing that they had placed them on their own altars or in spaces that were deeply personal to them. It made me realize that the meaning I put into a work can be a starting point, but it doesn't have to be the ending.

“I don't think I'm trying to become a completely different person. I'm trying to become a more honest version of the person I've been all along.”

Hotel Lucile

What interested you about Hotel Lucile?

What interested me about Hotel Lucile actually started with saying no. I asked for the opportunity to present a much bigger idea, one that connected to the East Side, which I had already been painting for years.

It was also important to me to build the project locally, so I hired an all-women crew of LA-based artists and painters to help bring it to life while using Portola Paints.

When you first walked through the property, what stood out to you?

The first things that really stood out to me were the stained-glass windows and the scale of the spaces. The windows have such a strong presence, and I was fascinated by the way the light and color shifts through them throughout the day. I didn't want to compete with that. I love seeing Elysian finished now, and the rainbows from the stained glass windows accenting the shapes of the plants.

What inspired the murals, and why was Lucile the perfect place for them?

Eaton and Elysian, the two sister murals, is really my love letter to LA and to the East Side communities that hold such a deep place in my heart and creative output.

The plants are personal as well. The black sage, chia, white sage, and California sagebrush all come from Altadena. The cypress tree in Eaton is a nod to the building's life as a Chinese-American theater.

I want to note that I painted Eaton and Elysian two months before the fires in Altadena and the Palisades, which gave the work a meaning I couldn't have anticipated when I made it.

Looking ahead

Hotel Lucile takes its name from an 1860 poem whose characters spend a lifetime navigating the distance between who they are, who they've been, and who they might become. Who is Erin Lynn Welsh becoming?

For a long time, I was saying yes to everything: painting, set design, art direction, commercial work, whatever allowed me to keep making and building a life around creativity. I'm incredibly grateful for that path because it brought me here, but I'm at a point where I want to be more intentional about what I give my time and energy to.

I have a daughter now, I'm in a different part of my life, and I'm thinking more about what I want to leave behind, not just as an artist, but as a woman and a mother. Maybe that's the connection I feel to the idea behind Lucile. We're always carrying who we've been while becoming someone new. I don't think I'm trying to become a completely different person. I'm trying to become a more honest version of the person I've been all along.

Silver Lake

What do you hope Silver Lake never loses?

I hope Silver Lake never loses the places that have been here forever, which has sort of happened in some ways. And obviously, the drive-through ceviche spot, Playita Mariscos. Taix closing was a huge bummer. I will forever miss their French onion soup and gatherings with friends there with the big round tables and comfortable chairs that are from the '80s.

In general I love exploring new spots coming into a neighborhood, and I think change is inevitable, but I strongly don't think the communities or older, family-owned businesses should have to disappear for that to happen.

Find Eaton and Elysian here at Hotel Lucile. Catch them in the morning, when the stained glass is at its best.

This interview has been edited and condensed.