How Artist Alex Katz Spends His Days: Interview With MoMA Artist With Current Exhibition At Museum

How Long-Time Artist Alex Katz Spends His Days

When asked about his current routine, the artist Alex Katz replied with a laugh that it was just “paint and sleep.” Katz, who turns 97 this month, has been committed to a steady practice that pairs observations of the world around him with the sensations that seeing provokes.

To mark the opening of Alex Katz: Seasons, an exhibition in the Marron Family Atrium of four monumental paintings that capture the beauty of the changing seasons, Katz spoke to us about making art for eight decades; his idea of eternity; a favorite line from his friend, the poet Frank O’Hara; and what makes a painting a “dog” or a thing of indescribable elegance.

Read an exclusive interview with the artist and make plans to see these stunning works now.

An excerpt from the interview is below. Please click the above link to read the complete interview: 

On a recent warm morning, my colleague Naeem Douglas and I visited Alex Katz in his downtown New York City studio, just days before he decamped to Maine for the summer. Katz was up on a rolling ladder painting when we first arrived, and he finished applying a dark brown coat of paint before climbing down to say hello.

A stack of wooden frames awaiting canvas rested against the wall nearby. There was a palpable, almost feverish energy around the work that needed to be done. (Asked about his current routine, Katz replied that it was just “paint and sleep” with a laugh. He turns 97 this month.) On the occasion of a group of his monumental Seasons paintings going on view in MoMA’s atrium this summer, we spoke about making art for eight decades; his idea of eternity; a favorite line from his friend, the poet Frank O’Hara, which he took as inspiration; and what makes a painting a “dog” or a thing of indescribable elegance.

He needs his paintings, Katz explained, to have “the feeling I have when I see things.” As Naeem and I emerged from the studio onto a busy sidewalk, we looked up at some trees in full bloom, trying to figure out which had been the model for the artist’s Winter painting at MoMA. I realized we were already trying to have a little more of Katz’s seasoned eye.

It’s such a pleasure to finally get a chance to speak with you in person after writing about your art a lot. How long have you been working in this studio?

Since 1968.

And what do you like about it?

Well, it’s got a nice size and a nice light. As you see, the windows are on three sides, and we have windows even in the bathroom, so it gets pretty good light. In all the time I’ve been in New York, I’ve never been in the studio with bad light. The lighting suits me and the ceiling’s high enough.

Do you have a favorite time to be in the studio?

No. Actually, my paintings take all kinds of light. I’ve done a lot of night paintings, and twilight, and morning paintings. I think when people paint the same light all the time, it gets a little monotonous.

And do you have any favorite places to go in the city for inspiration or to get another view?

I like being downtown pretty much. I think a lot of the city is very beautiful; the big buildings and Central Park. But age has sort of caught up with me, I don’t go out much. It’s paint and sleep. Paint and sleep.

That’s a good routine. What do you do when you need a break from painting?

There aren’t any anymore! I used to jock a lot. I played basketball for Cooper Union, varsity.

Advertisement

Amazing. You’re not going and shooting hoops anymore?

No, no. And then in my 40s, I started running a lot. I did a lot of running and swimming, but that’s declined. And when I was young, there was all this poetry. My audience turned out to be poets and painters, the prime audience. And it was like a community. I went to a lot of poetry readings. And I read a lot of poetry too.

And how do you approach painting?

Well, I think you have to keep changing the way you paint. And my painting, I think now is more conceptual and more automatic. It’s a combination, and it seems to be working pretty well. Once I start to put the paint on, I don’t really think about it. It just goes on. But it takes a while to figure out what colors to use.

Does it feel almost like a muscle memory at this point?

Yes. Muscle memory. At first, I was trying to paint realistic, and trying to determine what is realistic.

Yes, what does that term even mean?

Yeah. The word is an absolute, but the condition isn’t, it keeps changing. And then as I got older, I started to paint a sensation of what I was seeing, and so it’s more generalized. And that’s been successful. And then I got involved in doing several things at once. But one of them is the after-image idea. And it starts with Matisse’s red room, The Red Studio, which is like an afterimage of a green coming out to us.

We think of the complementary color.

Yes, when you come into a room and all of a sudden it’s red. And so, I started with these red and white paintings. And this summer in Maine I want to try it with an arbitrary color, with orange—you know, I packed a big tube of orange—and see how far I can go with it. Because the red and white afterimage paintings were very successful and absolutely totally different from what I started with. It’s funny, I did something 60 years ago painting birch trees in an orange background.

I love that return 60 years later. And do you find that the paintings you make in Maine are different than those you make in New York?

Not really, because a lot of the paintings get done in New York from sketches I make in Maine.

Banner Image: One of the artist’s paintings. Image Credit – MoMA