Bio

Growing up in China during the Cultural Revolution, Charles Jiao’s early education was frequently disrupted. To ensure his time wasn’t wasted, his father arranged private tutoring from family friends including an artist who brought him into the art world. After graduating high school, Jiao spent two years farming under government mandate before securing a position as a department store designer, a role made possible by his early art training.

Following the end of the Cultural Revolution in 1976, Jiao entered Xiamen University to study chemistry and later became a lecturer in his hometown. Soon he left China to pursue graduate studies in the United States, earning a Master of Science from the University of Minnesota–Duluth and a PhD in chemistry from Purdue University. While advancing in science, he never left art behind, continuing his artistic development through two years of private watercolor instruction.

A chemist position with a government contractor for the Air Force Research Laboratory brought Jiao to Dayton, Ohio, where he transitioned to oil painting and deepened his practice while working full time. Upon retiring, he couldn't wait any longer to fully dedicate his time to his lifelong passion for painting.

His professional affiliations have included the Oil Painters of America, the Dayton Society of Artists, and the Cincinnati Art Club—the nation's second-oldest continually operating art club—where he held Signature Membership. His work has been exhibited in numerous juried exhibitions, including the Oil Painters of America 2021 Salon Show, ViewPoint 54 National Exhibition, and the Olde Masters Galleria 2023 International Spring Exhibition. He has received multiple awards for his work, which often draws from his personal history and a disciplined creative process.

He is currently represented by Eisele Gallery in Cincinnati, Ohio, and Olde Masters Galleria in Dayton, Ohio. His work, ranging from intimate 12"x12" pieces to monumental 48"x72" canvases, has been collected nationwide.

Artist Statement

Practicing both oil painting and photography has helped me clarify the unique role each medium plays in how we perceive the world. I believe photography seeks the finest clarity—a faithful rendering of form and detail. Painting, by contrast, engages a different aesthetic truth. As a renowned Chinese painter once said, “The beauty of painting lies between the like and the not-like.” Too lifelike becomes servile; too unlike becomes dishonest. This poetic paradox has become a guiding principle in my artistic journey.

My work exists along the spectrum that stretches from hyperrealism to pure abstraction. I consider myself a realist painter, yet one who embraces abstract brushwork. I paint scenes from everyday life—quiet corners, fleeting moments, familiar streets—and seek to elevate them through expressive handling of paint. The abstraction in my brushstrokes isn’t there to obscure, but to suggest, to evoke, and to invite the viewer into a more active, imaginative engagement with the image.

Though my work is rooted in realism, I am equally inspired by the achievements of artists across the spectrum—from those who master fine detail to those who reduce form to pure emotion. I am always exploring, always learning, always walking the line between the visible and the felt.

Why I want to be an artist

Art entered my life early and never truly left. Even during years devoted to science, I returned to painting in spare moments—sketching landscapes, contemplating compositions, and searching through literature for answers to a timeless question: What makes a painting truly resonate?

Shapes matter, of course, but more essential are value structure—the orchestration of light and dark, color harmony, and the quality of edges. These elements captivate the eye, often before we consciously register why. I believe this attraction is ancient, embedded in human evolution. Unlike many jungle-dwelling animals with sharper vision, early humans relied less on crisp detail and more on overall patterns of tone, color, and edge to sense danger or opportunity. That inherited sensitivity still guides our visual experience today.

What kinds of patterns stir the human eye remains a mystery—one that reveals itself only through years of dedicated artistic practice. As I’ve immersed myself in painting, I’ve discovered that the world looks different through an artist’s eyes. A casual observer might pass by a scene without notice, while I may pause—drawn by the quiet drama of a strong value structure, the muted hues of atmospheric perspective, or the subtle dance of edges that hint at form and texture.

To be an artist is to see what others overlook. It is to search for beauty embedded in the everyday—nature’s quiet poetry—and to share it through a visual language as old as humankind. That pursuit, that shared wonder, is why I chose to become an artist.