For Malachi Wright, art began at home. Raised in Dixmoor, Illinois, a small village just outside of Chicago, Wright grew up in a close family of artists where creativity became a way of connecting, storytelling, and preserving history. His mother and brother are visual artists, his father was a carpenter, and his grandmother and aunts are seamstresses, surrounding him with different forms of making from an early age. One of Wright’s earliest memories of art is a piece created by his mother that hung in their home, featuring figures including Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, Nelson Mandela, and Spike Lee. Before fully understanding who they were, Wright encountered their faces through art. The piece became both an image and an introduction, teaching him that art could spark curiosity and become a tool for education.
The foundation of making together continues through Golden Street, Wright’s family-led mural practice. Working alongside his mother and brothers, their focus is creating uplifting public art for communities where access to art and creative resources is often limited. Wright uses mural-making to transform shared spaces while creating an outlet for connection and creative expression. This belief in creating together also informs his studio practice, where he frequently gathers figures within a single composition.
Now a Los Angeles-based painter, Wright creates figurative work rooted in Black life and expression, using direct and familiar imagery to uncover deeper layers of the human experience. His practice began with pencil, pen, and paper before evolving into digital image-making and eventually painting. Sharing his work through social media expanded his audience and led to professional collaborations across music, sports, and entertainment. Wright earned his BFA from UCLA and is currently pursuing his MFA at CSULB.
Film became another early education. Watching movies with his father created lasting memories, while the characters became some of Wright’s earliest drawing subjects. As he grew older, the characters became less important than the ideas they represented. His parents’ and siblings’ stories, scrapbooks, music, and memories of their past became portals into a time he never experienced firsthand. In recent paintings, Wright brings figures together to examine the allure and consequences of hustler and player archetypes. Having witnessed both the attraction and consequences of hustling growing up, Wright redirects that drive through his pursuit of art while questioning worldly ambition against spiritual purpose. Familiar faces become vehicles for larger questions about faith, morality, memory, and inheritance, inviting viewers not simply to recognize what they see, but to confront what those images have taught them about themselves.

