My name is Lawrence Chappe.
I was born in Havana, Cuba, and raised between there and Hialeah, Florida.

I grew up making things out of whatever was around me.
We didn’t always have toys, so my friends and I made our own — mainly out of electrical wire scraps we’d find in the street and in the garbage. One of my earliest memories is sitting on the floor, drawing without thinking much of it — just following instinct, doing what felt natural.

I’m the youngest of my siblings by 16 years.
By the time I came around, my parents had already lived through raising two other children, and whatever early vision there may have been for structured artistic development had softened. I showed signs early on — enough for people around me to notice — but I was never placed into formal art programs or pushed in that direction.

Looking back, that freedom mattered. My mom gave me a lot of freedom as a child.

There was no pressure to perform, no expectation to become anything in particular.
I was left to explore on my own terms — to create without rules, without structure, without the weight of being “trained.”

What started as necessity — making something out of nothing — became instinct.

At 17, I joined the U.S. Navy.
That experience shaped me in a lot of ways, but one thing that stayed with me was creativity — even if it wasn’t obvious at the time. I carried a sketchbook, listened to a lot of jazz, and started to understand what it meant to feel something deeply.

While I was in the Navy, one of my ship mates who had gone to art school and then given up to raise a Family, Mike Burns; gifted me a CD called KInd of blue by Miles Davis. This i know was a timeline shift for my life. I got into jazz heavy.It wasn’t just music — it was a different way of experiencing the world. It opened something. It made space for nuance, for feeling, for interpretation. Jazz, to me, became less about sound and more about freedom — structure without rigidity, expression without rules.

The sketchbook, the music, the quiet observation — it all started to connect.

Not as a decision, but as a direction.

After the Navy, I studied architecture.
I loved the thinking behind it — space, materials, light — but 3 years in when i had my first opportunity to do an internship I realized the reality of the profession wasn’t for me. It felt too slow, too constrained. I wanted to create in real time - not be stuck in a cubicle doing bathroom renovations. 

Again, through necessity Architecture led me into photography (wanting to take perfect photos of my projects), Later in 2013 i was accepted into FAU’s art school as a precursor to their graphic design program.
By the time I graduated with a BFA in Graphic Design in 2016, I was already working as a creative director at a major brand. For over a decade, I worked with brands across design, photography, and product — building things that had purpose, function, and utility. I loved translating this kind of mentality i learned in architecture school into my projects. The fact I had learned to think deeply into the projects and ask good questions about the products definitely gave me an edge

At the time, I had no intention of becoming an artist.

Art, to me, felt… useless. Not in the What the fuck is this? Sense. More in the fact I wanted to create things that had utility. Chairs, boxes, tables, lamps, clothing.

 

---

 

The Shift

In 2018 I left my job as a creative director to start my own creative agency. During this time I helped multiple entrepreneurs and companies make really cool things, but also earn a lot of money. I wanted to do this for myself, so I started multiple side projects in the  ecommerce space that would eventually close down. 

One day I started the “Chappe Shop” where i was creating tshirts, accessories, and other fashion items. I was chasing volume, I was chasing god knows what, but mostly i was chasing my tail. I remember one of my drops, I sold 50 tshirts. Which took SO MUCH energy and effort. Emails, logistics, marketing, pick up, shipping. ANd maybe I made 200 bucks. 

One day I decided to make art and put the art on tshirt (I AM a formally trained artist after all), maybe people would want my tshirts with art. Again, lots of exhausting work, results werent even good enough to pay my cellphone bill (good thing it was a side project)

As this was happening, someone asked to buy one of the pieces I made. 

This was my lightbulb moment. 

I realized I could either keep chasing volume…
or I could create something that actually meant something — to me and to someone else.

Then someone asked to buy another and another and another. That year i would sell 12 pieces of art. Still a side project. 

A year and a half went by and most things in my life fell apart.

Within a 30 day period I lost all of my design clients. Just like that.
No income. No real plan. No direction. I had been running my own thing for years, and suddenly it was just… gone.

It was one of the lowest points of my life.

I tried everything — calling people, emailing, chasing work — nothing was landing.
And at some point, I just stopped and made a decision:

I’m going all in on this.

I gave myself 8 weeks.
8 weeks to create an entire body of work and figure out how to put on a show.

I didn’t have a venue.
I didn’t have connections.
I didn’t even really know what I was doing.

But I had nothing to lose.

That first show ended up doing just under $10,000 in sales.

And yeah, that mattered — I fucking needed it.

But more than anything… It gave me direction again.
It gave me purpose.

 

---

 

The Work

I create under a style I call Pop Brutalism.

It’s a technical exploration — influenced by brutalist thinking and driven by color, energy, and intuition.
It’s about doing more with less. Letting materials be what they are. Creating something impactful without needing “luxury” to define it.

My work is meant to shift how a space feels.

When someone stands in front of it, I want them to feel uplifted —
lightness, optimism, positive energy.

There’s a moment when someone connects with a piece.
You can see it happen.

That is the paradox of art. Art is useless objects, but it is this pointless exploration which separates us from most other animals on the planet. Additionally, we don't “need” art to survive, however, I have seen with my own eyes someone have an emotional reaction to a piece and the NEED to have it. 

They don’t just like it.

They need it. Like the air we breathe.

 

---

 

Philosophy

I believe art is useless (non utilitarian)

Art is the highest form of luxury

Art is the most defining thing we have as a species.

Art doesn’t provide shelter. It doesn’t physically transport you from point A to point B.It doesn't clothe you!

Art is a philosophical, spiritual exercise that allows human thinking to expand. 

Every building, every product, many systems we live inside of started as an idea — a sketch — something “useless.”

Art is where everything begins.

 

---

 

Today

Today, I operate independently — creating work, producing exhibitions, and building direct relationships with my collectors.

Not because I can’t scale through traditional systems, but because I value the connection. I like knowing who lives with my work. I like the conversations, the moments, the environments the pieces end up in. That proximity matters to me.

My exhibitions are an extension of that — they’re about bringing people together. Music, conversation, energy, new relationships. Creating spaces where people can feel something, meet someone new, and experience art in a way that’s alive.

At the core of everything I’m building are a few very clear goals:

• To create work that holds weight — visually, emotionally, and spatially

• To build a collector base that grows with me — people who understand the work and stay connected to it over time

• To place my work in the right environments — homes, spaces, and collections where it actually belongs

• To remove friction between the art and collectors — making the process of collecting feel natural, exciting, and inevitable

Beyond that, my vision is bigger.

I am building an ecosystem around art — one that includes experiences, gatherings, and spaces where creativity is part of everyday life. Not something reserved for galleries or institutions, but something integrated into how people live.

I want to bring real culture to the area I live in — South Florida, specifically the coastal communities in Pompano beach, Lighthouse point, Fort Lauderdale, Boca Raton, Deerfield Beach. There’s energy here, there’s growth, there’s opportunity — but there’s also a gap when it comes to meaningful, original art experiences.

And on a personal level, my goals are simple:

• To provide for my wife

• To take care of my father (who if i may add risked EVERYTHING to bring me to this country)

I don’t move slowly.

When I decide on something, I go all in.

Right now, that means continuing to refine the work, expand the reach, and build something that lasts.