What is a contemporary artist to do, when advances in digital technology make it possible to ‘output’ virtually anything? Just a generation ago, visual artists were the keepers of the flame. They alone, through handwork and natural ability, could create the images that move us.

They still can, of course. Those who wish to paint and sculpt in the ‘analogue’ media remain as relevant as ever (talent permitting). But for artists intrigued by the possibilities of digital manipulation, fundamental questions remain: how much can I modify before I lose my original vision? When is a project actually finished? How much of the work is ‘me’, and how much is the software?

Chuck Elliott wrestles with these questions every day. Almost alone among contemporary British artists, he’s finding answers. Through his commitment to the cause, Chuck has evolved his own visual style and mastered a fine-tuned technical process. The result is stunning work.

It’s taken Chuck many years to reach this point. He has certainly paid his dues. He received formal training at Hornsey Art School, and later carved out a successful career in commercial design and illustration. Over twelve years he was commissioned by Yohji Yamamoto, Apple, Sony and Nike, among many others. But in 2004, Chuck took a deep breath and halted his design career in order to pursue his own creative vision, based on emerging digital media techniques.

Today, we see why. Chuck’s images dazzle the eye with their complexity. They look like nothing else out there. Why? Because he simply has great ideas. And he uses digital manipulation to push these ideas to unimaginable new places.

Those who have seen Chuck’s previous two Catto shows will be familiar with his approach. But they will detect a progression in the new collection. In part, there are technical reasons for this. The artist recently moved his image production to a facility in Los Angeles, which can process more data in each drawing – and do it faster. Giving Chuck the freedom to create physically bigger works and, significantly, to experiment more.

This has yielded pieces like Bebop 45. Here, Chuck takes one great visual idea and riffs on it – through a combination of technical trickery and old fashioned artistic experimentation. Here’s how he describes it: “The images are ‘remixed’ in a process that takes the original data, and reworks it into a similar but more progressive new piece. In the case of the BeBop series, I created standalone images of balanced glazed volumes, and then randomly rolled a series of ‘glass spheres’ over the surface, in such a way as to make the original graphic ‘pop’. Overlaying this imagery onto new twisted 3D formers adds complexity, whilst partially obscuring the original forms... leading to dense new images that are visually intriguing.”

The title is no accident, of course. Charlie Parker et al would take a central musical theme and improvise around it in mind-bending harmonic shapes; Chuck’s doing the same thing with images. Indeed, Chuck is very energised by the parallels between his working approach and what’s happening in contemporary music production.

He says: “I like the idea of colour geometric abstraction as visually synonymous with the pace and dynamism of contemporary music – and in particular the idea of the studio remix in music applied to visual work.” Rhythm, repetition, harmony and line are all musical ideas that find a parallel in Chuck’s work. Meanwhile in a piece like Motorik, there’s even a nod to the musical stave.

Elsewhere in the new show, Chuck returns to the elemental questions that he’s addressed before. His use of circles, repeating patterns, wave forms and so on – along with titles like Flow, Collider, Elemental – suggests a fascination with the mathematics of nature. Actually, Chuck insists he didn’t start with this goal in mind. But he’s warming to it. “People have said that the works allude to nature’s way of using geometry to build the environment that surrounds us. I didn’t set out with this view, but I’m considering it... working with base materials, line, colour, volume, motion and light, allows for an exploration of the natural order, and the way in which nature forms the world around us.”

Some of these works – Sun Moon, for example – are grouped together in the Cosmos {67} series. They’re amazing. But for all their mathematical precision, there’s something mystical about them too. Those Hindu allusions are too strong to ignore. Chuck doesn’t disagree. “Cosmos combines a series of studies into a new form that seems redolent of an almost psychedelic, mandala-like form. It demands to exist, though it seems to have an aesthetic that is counter to my own way of thinking,” he says.

Chuck’s intellectual resistance to the idea of creating any mystique around his work largely comes down to humility. Chuck just doesn’t see the artist as a ‘channeller of higher plane thought’. But then he does concede that sometimes, like so many creative people, he’s not entirely in control of his ideas. His subconscious takes over. And he’s not clear how.

“I use an evolving visual language to explore and record the world. I tend to think that, almost as a kind of calling, the artist has no choice other than to work with the tools at hand, led by conscious and subconscious thoughts and ideas. Creating new material, over a period of years, and ultimately becoming part of a longer dialogue, as the work continues to evolve, and new strands move off in unforeseeable directions.”

Tim Green, January 2015