Batia Ofer, photographed at home by Simon de Pury, London, 2026

Batia Ofer combines collecting art with making people’s lives better, in a way nobody else can match. The Chair of the Royal Academy Trust in London is also founder of the Art of Wishes, for which artists create works that are auctioned to raise funds to fulfil the dreams of critically ill children. She speaks with LUX Contributing Editor Simon de Pury about collecting, charity and how art has the possibility of helping to heal a fractured world

Simon de Pury: When did your personal passion for art begin?

Batia Ofer: I think that passion has been there for a very long time, and I can’t quite put my finger on when it started, but I grew up in an art-loving environment. My grandfather loved Matisse so much he named my father Matisse, which I think attests to that love of art because it’s not a very common first name – even though my father is no artist, but you know…

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So I grew up with a love of art, but I think it’s been in the past 20 years that I’ve become focused on becoming a collector. Even more so after my father-in-law, Sammy Ofer, passed away. My husband suggested I manage our part of his father’s collection, as I am the one who is more passionate about art. And I decided to take it even more seriously because I had to, given the collection my father-in-law had amassed. He was a revered collector and had done an extraordinary job collecting some unbelievable masterpieces.

So I needed to think: how do we take that forward? Sometimes people freeze and they don’t know what to do. You see a lot of great collections being sold when the collector passes away. But we wanted to continue that journey. In the beginning, I was trying to follow in my father-in-law’s footsteps because I thought that was the right way to go. But then I became more daring and started thinking of what distinguishes us as people, as collectors, and the story we want to tell. And I started taking the collection in a different direction.

Portrait photography by Simon de Pury

SdP: I remember your father-in-law fondly. He was an extraordinary, wonderful man, and his eye for quality and sense for major works was very impressive. The scope of the collection now is fascinating, because you go from established names to exploring contemporary art in depth, including artists who do not yet have an established track record. Each part carries the handwriting of the person who put it together. But how does it work with your husband? Sometimes you have couples that collect, but I feel it is ultimately an individual task and one person has to make the decisions.

BO: I would say I’m probably the more active collector of the two of us, but we always discuss the works we are going to buy. If I am convinced there is a work that needs to enter the collection, I will make a strong case for it. And I think, over the years, he has learnt to trust my judgement. But then one of the last works we bought is something he saw that wasn’t even on my radar. Still, I would say that most of the collection is what I bring to the table. And yes, you are right, some names are more established; some are lesser known. It has been a journey. I always try to buy the best possible examples of artists that I’m interested in. So it’s not just buying the artists, it’s also looking for the best examples by that artist.

SdP: Yes, even the greatest artists have good days and bad days. So, ideally, you want to buy a work done on a good day by a good artist. What struck me is the works you have chosen are all works done on a good day.

BO: Yes, and I’ll give you an example. [Sigmar] Polke was very prolific. And while he is, in my opinion, one of the geniuses of the mid-to-late 20th and early 21st centuries, there are some great works he did and some less good ones. And I would like to think that all the ones I have are particularly good examples of his work.

Batia Ofer with Stormzy, D’Rita Robinson and Robbie Robinson, celebrating the Kerry James Marshall exhibition, 2025

SdP: I agree. Polke is one of my favourite artists – he’s what I would call an artist’s artist. He has been hugely influential for so many young contemporary artists and I love to see the impact he’s had. You also work with artists in your various charitable projects, particularly the Art of Wishes. How did you come to create that and to then collaborate with artists?

BO: Make-A-Wish is a charity that is close to my heart. And when I moved to the UK 13 years ago, I thought, how do I help the charity, which is a charity that fulfils wishes for children with life-threatening conditions – and for me, what really connected me to Make-A-Wish was the personal story of the children. Being a collector, I realised that the strength of my relationships lies in the art world, and that’s where I can make the most impact. And, you know, artists are very sensitive human beings.

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So I went from gallerist to gallerist. At that time I wasn’t well known in London, but I made appointments with galleries I knew and also with galleries I didn’t know. I asked them to choose an artist and I would meet the artist and present them with 30 synopses of different wish stories. So let’s say, Arthur, eight years old, had leukaemia; his wish is to go on a trip in Africa and see elephants. And I would say to the artists, you choose the story that really touches you most. If you can be inspired by the story, make a work based on it. And that became the first Art of Wishes gala. We had unbelievable participation: Tracey Emin was inspired by a girl called Grace and donated three works. Idris Khan, Gillian Wearing and Michael Landy all participated.

SdP: You have raised millions through Art of Wishes. But the most beautiful thing is you have fulfilled the dreams of so many children in some desperate situations and have brought joy and hope not only to the children, but to their families and support. And you have demonstrated how art can play this therapeutic role. And I’m idealistic and obsessed with art because I feel it showcases the best of what we humans are capable of.

A pencil portrait of Batia Ofer for LUX by Jonathan Newhouse

BO: Yes, 100 per cent. We even had a girl named Poppy whose dream was to have her own art exhibition, and we did that for her with Christie’s, where she showed her art and sold the works. I mean, imagine for a nine-year-old girl to have a show at a major auction house. And we gave her art lessons with artists. Chantal Joffe, who is also a Royal Academician, met her and gave her a lesson.

SdP: It’s beautiful. And speaking of the Royal Academy, I am always stunned by how many major artists have been a part of it. How many Royal Academicians are there at any time?

BO: There are around 130 Royal Academicians, Honorary and Senior – a combination of artists, architects, sculptors, printmakers. Some of the greatest architects are Royal Academicians, from David Chipperfield to Norman Foster to Peter St John of Caruso St John. We even have architect groups like Assemble, Thomas Heatherwick, and there’s Ron Arad. That’s why I love the Academy. You get to interact with Royal Academicians like Sean Scully, an unbelievable painter, and Tony Cragg, a great sculptor.

Then there’s Antony Gormley, Tracey Emin, Jenny Saville, Rose Wylie, Hurvin Anderson, Michael Craig-Martin and Lubaina Himid, who is representing Great Britain at the Venice Biennale this year. In fact, Jenny Saville RA, Marina Abramović Hon RA and Michael Armitage, who’s both RA and a Schools graduate, are all having shows during the Venice Biennale, too. One of the greatest joys of being involved with the Royal Academy is having that interaction with artists. For me, it’s a privilege to be involved with such an institution.

SdP: Ron Arad, whom I have loved and admired for many, many years, is one of my favourite Royal Academicians. And I’m always so amused that his own initials are RA.

BO: Yes, so it’s RA RA!

Batia Ofer with RA Interim CEO Natasha Mitchell and RA President Rebecca Salter at the RA Summer Exhibition Preview party, 2025

SdP: You have been so influential as a philanthropist and as a collector, do you have a big or unfulfilled dream still?

BO: Well, I hope one day to have an art foundation. I believe art is a facilitator for real dialogue, and I think we miss real dialogue in society today. I feel the world has become very polarised. A lot of it is because of social media and people are not listening to one another any more. There’s a lot of anger, there’s a lot of hate but there’s no real dialogue. I think art not only helps us advance as a society and become better as human beings in understanding one another, but, as well as that psychological benefit, it can open people up to be more willing to engage in dialogue. So I want to have an art foundation where work can be displayed and bring people together. It might sound idealistic, but through art you can create conversation and facilitate difficult discussions that people don’t want to have any more.

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SdP: Yes, I find that once you know more about what artists are doing in different parts of the world of different backgrounds and upbringings, it brings people together, fosters better understanding and creates bridges.

BO: And ideally it brings people to collaborate and, through collaboration and dialogue, to make an impact. I believe in the soft power of art. I really believe that art is a tool for us as humans, not only to feel better, but also to bring a better understanding between people.

Batia Ofer at an event for her Art of Wishes charity with Jadé Fadojutimi, who contributed a major piece; Larry Gagosian, who helped secure both Jadé Fadojutimi and the Jenny Saville; Jenny Saville, whose artwork for the charity sold for £800,000; and Anna Weyant

SdP: If you had to define yourself by one word, what would you say characterises you most?

BO: Well, two words: positive impact. I want to have positive impact.

SdP: I love that. You know my interest in astrology. Can you tell me your zodiac sign?

BO: Cancer.

SdP: And my interest in numerology, so what is your actual birthday?

BO: 06 07 74.

SdP: Fantastic.

BO: So what does that mean? Cancer is very sensitive, home-oriented, family-oriented, right?

SdP: It actually says a lot. I remember that your father-in-law was a Pisces. I always loved his date of birth because it was 22 02 22.

BO: Correct. And we are both water signs, my late father-in-law and I. Pisces and Cancer are supposed to get along very well.

Batia Ofer with Grayson Perry RA at the RA Summer Exhibition Preview party, 2021, which the two co-chaired

SdP: It’s a very good combination. And I think it gives your collection a lot of coherence between the part you have inherited and the part you and your husband have created.

BO: And my husband is a Libra, which has a very high aesthetic sense, right?

SdP: Yes. My ascendant is Libra. We love art and harmony, we’re always in quest of beauty.

BO: I think my ascendant is also Libra.

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SdP: I think so. It makes a lot of sense. So I would love to hear what you view as your mission as Chair of the Royal Academy Trust?

BO: Well, the Royal Academy is a unique institution. We have amazing blockbusters and curatorially important exhibitions. From October, after the Summer Exhibition, we have ‘Painting the French Riviera’, which obviously goes back in time, but the previous year we had Kerry James Marshall Hon RA, a one-off, an unbelievable retrospective.

SdP: I loved that show, it was amazing.

“I thought, how do I help the charity? I realised that the strength of my relationships lies in the art world, and that’s where I can make the most impact” – Batia Ofer

BO: And while he was in the main galleries, we had ‘Kiefer/Van Gogh’ at the Burlington Gardens side of the building. Currently in the main galleries we have Rose Wylie, the 91-year-old artist – still in her prime and hailed for her bold, distinctive vision; and in the smaller galleries, Michaelina Wautier – now widely recognised as a major rediscovered 17th-century talent. These two exhibitions create a powerful dialogue between female artists across centuries. So we have all these different shows – and we have an art school, the Royal Academy Schools. Art is being made in the same place.

I can give you an interesting story that, during the Kerry James Marshall show, he suddenly realised he hadn’t signed one of his paintings, and the curator, Mark Godfrey, said, well, let’s go down to the Schools and borrow a paintbrush from one of the students. So they went down to the Schools and Kerry ended up spending a good few hours with the students.

The art school is amazing – it’s a three-year postgraduate programme, which is free of charge, and the breadth of talent that comes from there is remarkable. The Royal Academy has existed for more than 250 years. So from Constable and Turner, who went to the Schools, to Millais, to now Michael Armitage, who is going to be exhibiting at the Venice Biennale; to Rachel Jones, who recently had a show at Dulwich Gallery; to Lynette Yiadom-Boakye, who already had a show at Tate Modern. And in the life-drawing room, we still have the original benches where Constable and Turner sat and learned to draw.

Also, by the way, it is housed in one of the most iconic buildings in the UK, in the heart of Mayfair, at the heart of London, with some of the most beautiful gallery spaces in the world. So it’s an extremely special place where art has been made, exhibited and debated independently, as an artist-led institution with no government funding for more than 250 years. My mission is to secure that forever.

Batia Ofer for the Summer 2026 issue of LUX with the logo designed by Eliza Bonham Carter

SdP: Wow. And you have a new Artistic Director?

BO: Yes, Helen Legg, who is joining us from Tate Liverpool in June. It’s very exciting. I’m really looking forward to working with her. Simon Wallis, who joined as CEO last year, is putting together a great senior leadership team. He was previously at the Hepworth Wakefield, which he was the Founding Director of, and built into a great success story. We also have our first female President, Rebecca Salter.

SdP: And you have a female Chair! So it’s a really exciting moment in the glorious history of the Royal Academy. And when I think back on a life spent in the art world, some of the most seminal exhibitions I’ve seen have been at the Royal Academy. I think of Norman Rosenthal, who organised so many great shows there.

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BO: Yes, like ‘A New Spirit in Painting’ in 1981. The Georg Baselitz I have in the entrance to the apartment was first displayed there.

SdP: That show was so influential for the development of contemporary art. And, of course, ‘Sensation’ in 1997 was sensational.

BO: Sensational, yes! And a sensational point about the Royal Academy Schools is the breadth of our international students. We have a student from Taiwan, one from Bosnia and other students who are Iranian, American and Polish. The whole place is so interesting and after all this time I am still mesmerised by it.

royalacademy.org.uk

A Little Taste Outside of Love, 2007, by Mickalene Thomas, from the collection of Darius Sanai

Fresh from a blockbusting exhibition in London, New York’s Mickalene Thomas, a former LUX cover star, takes us through her life and loves

LUX: Hi Mickalene, how’s it all going? It’s been a while since you were on our cover.

Mickalene Thomas: Everything is moving – sometimes beautifully, sometimes with challenges, but always forward! I have deep gratitude for the journey. That cover story was special to me. It’s wonderful to reconnect.

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LUX: How was your Hayward show?

MT: “All About Love” was my first major global show, but it was also personal. Drawing from bell hooks’ words, I leaned into love as action: how it shapes who we are, who we uplift and the stories we tell. Presenting the work in London, honouring black beauty, femininity and resilience on such a scale was profound. My hope is always that people leave with a sense of love’s transformative, radical power.

LUX: Were the rave reviews important to you?

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MT: I’m grateful, but I’m most driven by making work to be seen, to be part of culture, to shift the conversation. I think it’s important not to lose sight of your purpose by listening too closely to critics. I believe I must focus on impact, rather than acclaim, if I want to shift narratives for present and future generations.

LUX: Your work Le Dejeuner sur l’herbe: Les trois femmes noires was the standout in a high-level field for us at Jeffrey Deitch’s 2022 LA show held in response to Manet’s painting. Do you consider it your “masterpiece”?

A portrait of Mickalene Thomas taken à l’improviste by Maryam Eisler

MT: That piece is a milestone. It challenges the notions of beauty and identity – three confident black women are depicted with a fixed gaze at the viewer. I don’t believe in one “masterpiece”. The ultimate triumph is that a work resonates with someone by challenging their idea of beauty and identity or reminding them of their strength and power, especially if they are a black female or from a marginalised community.

LUX: You are indelibly associated with New York City. Is that how you like it?

MT: Completely. New York is my home and inspiration. Its cacophony, diversity and energy are inseparable from who I am and what I create. It breeds possibility. While it has changed since I moved here in the 90s, it’s still an epicentre for artistic community and connection – especially here in Brooklyn.

LUX: What is it that you love about Brooklyn?

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MT: Brooklyn is home. The community is like no other – it’s culturally rich and inhabited by people from diverse backgrounds. Being surrounded by other artists also keeps me inspired and fuels my drive to keep creating.

LUX: What is your favourite part of New York?

MT: Walking across Brooklyn Bridge and pausing in the centre to look back at Brooklyn, with the vibrant city skyline stretching out ahead. Wandering through the city helps me clear my mind, reflect and dream big.

LUX: Which artists do you collect and why?

MT: My collection is like a love letter to the communities that have shaped me: women, black, queer and underrepresented artists. I simply buy art that I love and that inspires me. I started by trading art with artists such as Wangechi Mutu, Deborah Grant, Louis Cameron, Derrick Adams and Kehinde Wiley. My collection also includes a sculpture by Leilah Babirye, a mixed-media piece by Abigail DeVille and work by Joiri Minaya, a multidisciplinary artist who investigates the female body within constructions of identity and hierarchies.

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LUX: What is new and interesting in NYC?

MT: There’s always something unfolding in New York that resists cliché. Its heartbeat isn’t just in big institutions. Now there’s a revival of salons, pop-ups, block parties, community studios, where art, music and activism breathe together.

LUX: In 2011, you had a residency in Giverny. Have you always been a person of contrasts?

MT: I’ve reinterpreted classic paintings through a contemporary, black and queer lens, creating a tension between time periods and approaches. My work is exuberant, even if it often carries weighty messages and new storylines, where black women claim space and embrace their beauty and power. By juxtaposition, I can spark new dialogues. The dualities keep my work alive.

LUX: Is creating public art important for you?

MT: Community is where the greatest impact begins – not just for society, but for artists. Making art accessible is a part of my practice. I recently completed a mosaic that is now in the lobby of the Ruth Bader Ginsburg Hospital. Justice Ginsburg’s favourite flowers – freesias and hydrangeas – dance throughout the mural with an energy that emulates the joy, strength and power she embodied. Art in public spaces becomes a catalyst for connection and change – a way for people to see themselves in the work and be reminded of possibility, resilience and joy.

mickalene.herokuapp.com

A portrait of artist Sam Falls in Maison Ruinart, the oldest champagne house in the world

American artist Sam Falls is known for the entwinement of nature in his works. The Ruinart Conversations with Nature artist 2025, whose works have been shown at institutions including the Pompidou, Fondation Louis Vuitton and MOCA, speaks with LUX Contributing Editor Rachel Verghis about art, the natural world and loss

Rachel Verghis: You grew up in Vermont. How did the natural world inspire you and your early art?

Sam Falls: I think I took the natural world for granted, it was embedded in me. It came out later creatively, but at the time it was pure enjoyment.

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RV: Your contribution to the Ruinart Conversations with Nature 2025 cycle focuses on biodiversity. Is that a concern for you?

SF: It’s a constant for everyone living today, so it’s a big element of my work. It comes out through the subject matter, geography and biodiversity that are site-specific to each area I work with.

Rewilding by Sam Falls, shown at Frieze London

RV: The Ruinart work has been shown across the world. Do you follow the reactions to it?

SF: Yes, I’ve been following the reactions from Frieze Los Angeles, Frieze New York and Tiffany Pop Up in New York. I’m very happy with them.

RV: Is it important in your art to highlight not just nature but the threats to the natural world?

SF: It’s important to speak to the viewer, but also leave space for them. I don’t lead with politics, it’s inherent and available to the sensitive viewer.

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RV: You experienced loss at an early age with the death of your mother. Is there a work of art from this time that has stayed with you?

SF: Yes, Christina’s World by Andrew Wyeth. It’s an American painting from 1948, and it’s in the MoMA. I saw that when I was 10. It struck me technically and emotionally and it stuck with me.

RV: Your children appear in your work. Why?

SF: Well, they emerged in my work as soon as they emerged in my life.

Sam Falls with his artwork King’s Crossing

RV: You once said your work had taken on a more melancholic tone. Why is that?

SF: I think the seasons and the passage of time in nature are more rapid than the seasons of our life. So it’s a microcosm of the passing of life through death that can be translated visually in art.

RV: You use nature to develop the canvas. Can you tell us about solarisation and photography?

SF: I made the decision early on to abandon the mechanical apparatus of photography and use natural sunlight. The process became a valuable source of connectivity to the viewer, because it is mundane and available to everyone.

Read more: A conversation with Sassan Behnam-Bakhtiar

RV: Are you an environmental artist?

SF: I’m an artist using the environment, not an environmental artist.

RV: You have rejected the term “land art” to describe your practice. Why?

SF: Land art remains in the landscape. My art is a symbiotic creative process with nature. I remove it and leave no traces. The land is available for the next human or animal to experience it differently.

The process of creating King’s Crossing, made from nature and in nature

RV: What one element remains constant throughout your work?

SF: I would say, care for the viewer and also connection to the primary source.

RV: Is photography still apart from fine art?

SF: It became so familiarised it’s now accepted. But because it is a wider cultural phenomenon in the economy and the capitalist language, it is problematic. I use its representational assets as they apply to art history, rather than to the language of capitalism, integrating it fluidly.

RV: You once said, “Time is the thing that gives me the most anxiety.” Why?

SF: Well, because it is a march to death!

RV: In your practice, is decay a constant?

SF: Yes!

ruinart.com

England-born, LA based British-Iranian artist Kour Pour – famous for his series of carpet paintings – delves into the rich history of Persian rugs, unshackling and readdressing cultural categorisations. And he makes something both historic and entirely new. From a youth spent climbing up piles of Persian rugs in his father’s shop, to Iran’s historical and current politics, to the voices of hip-hop music, Kour Pour chats to Isabella Fergusson about the many inspirations woven into his intercultural, intertemporal artworks

LUX: You were born in Exeter, England, but moved to LA. What effect does place – and did the move – have on your art?

Kour Pour: I very naturally respond to my surroundings in my work – images and materials I come across around the world make their way into the studio. I think it’s safe to say that Los Angeles and everything that I encounter here finds a way into my practice. My community here is incredibly diverse, and all the people that find their way into my life influence my practice. Exeter was beautiful, but it was quite homogenous. Moving from Devon to LA helped to open my world up.

LUX: You’ve exhibited all around the world; where do you feel that audiences most resonate with your works? Is it very different across these places?

KP: The nature of my practice is that it’s quite varied: I make paintings and sculptures and large-scale prints, and these can range from hyper-figurative to hyper-abstract. My experience has been that this allows everyone to have a different access point to my work, and that it promotes resonances across different cultures and geographies. I think of my different bodies of work as different languages, and therefore that allows me to have a conversation with as many people as possible.

Gathering In The Courtyard, 2022, Acrylic on canvas over panel

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LUX: Tell me about your father’s carpet shop – your earliest memories there, its inspirations for your work now.

KP: My father moved to Exeter by himself when he was 14 – a result of the Iranian Revolution in ’79. Eventually his older brother joined him, but the two of them were teenagers in a new country without a support system. So, they had a typical immigrant experience of arriving in a new place and just having to figure it out. My father eventually rented a storefront that had many different lives when I was growing up: a sunglass store, and ice cream shop. That one was my favorite. But when I was about 4 or 5, it was a carpet store. I remember being a child and climbing around all the rugs and feeling that they made a place seem like home. I also remember my father touching up old and faded carpets by hand using natural dyes. That was probably one of the first times I was exposed to painting, in any form.

Jade Tiger, 2021

LUX: You’ve said before that you wished museum collections wouldn’t be separated by geographic location or time period, which throws up the challenge of overly constrictive categorisation, particularly in the case of your work. But where would you place your art if it had to be geographically categorised – by its inspiration, or the location it was painted, or your descent? Perhaps it simply cannot comfortably be boxed up…

KP: I don’t want to categorise the work. One of the beautiful things about art is that you can find relationships across temporal and geographic boundaries. I want to allow my work that freedom.

LUX: I was speaking to an artist yesterday that said that a painter has to confront and get over the fact that what he does is – in absolute terms – utterly pointless. Do you agree? Have you had to to confront a sense of uselessness?

KP: Maybe an artist that has nothing to say in their work could feel that painting is pointless, but I absolutely disagree with that notion. Art is a healer. Whether for the artist or the viewer, the act of creating is therapeutic and experiencing someone else communicate through any medium is both thrilling and comforting. It’s an expression of being alive. There are so many things art can do. It raises awareness, it becomes a record of a time, it tells stories, and it imagines alternative ways of being. Art is endless in its possibilities.

A Voyage For Tea & Spices, 2023, Acrylic on canvas over panel, 84 x 60 inches

LUX: Should art’s political role be more respected – and is art, or should it be, inherently political?

KP: Art is made by people. Some individuals exist in worlds that are heavily politicized, and some don’t. Artists make work that is, directly or indirectly, a reflection of their reality, so you could argue that art is always social and political.

LUX: How do your Iranian roots play into your work?

KP: My Iranian identity has always been a big part of how I navigate my reality. It has influenced both how I’ve engaged with the world, and how the world has engaged with me. I’ve used Iranian imagery in my own practice, and that identity has also guided some projects that are not directly related to what I’m doing in the studio. In 2022, I opened an exhibition project space in my studio complex in Inglewood, called Guest House. The first show was of Iranian artists living in Los Angeles, born out of what I perceived as a lack of engagement with the Iranian community by the city’s art scene. Which is crazy, given how many Iranians there are in LA – the city has the largest population living outside of Iran.

Eternal Springtime (Nowruz), 2017 – 2021, Acrylic on canvas over panel, 96 x 144 inches

Two weeks after we opened the exhibition, the Woman, Life, Freedom protests broke out after Jina Mahsa Amini’s death in Tehran. Guest House immediately became a hub for the community. We would have people come visit the show and trade news about what was going on back home in Iran, we had film screenings, and we tried to respond in whatever way we could to what was going on. That sense of community, and the relationships that I made over the course of that first exhibition, have entered the studio and now help inform the totality of my studio practice.

LUX: Hip-hop and carpet painting seem an unlikely combination. What about the music inspires you, and is it hip-hop’s differences or similarities to your medium which feed your works?

KP: One of the things that initially drew me to hip hop was the idea of sampling: taking a sound from a song, transforming it, and adding it into another song. This matches up with the way that the carpets I’m interested in were made: images would travel along the Silk Road and there would be this incredible intermixing of cultures. A single rug that was assigned Persian origin would have images from as far west as Venice and as far east as China. I think that the language around sampling in hip hop is a perfect way to speak about these works.

See more: kourpour.com

You can find his works on the back of mass-market cereal packets, in leading museums and on sneakers. Some change hands for millions, and others are made in their millions. More than any other living artist, Brian Donnelly, known as KAWS, carries the Andy Warhol mantle of blending high and low art. Darius Sanai meets him in his New York studio

For someone who became a global celebrity out of a kind of exhibitionism, Brian Donnelly seems very discreet when I first come across him. We have arranged to meet in his Brooklyn studio when I am in the city for Frieze New York. I escape the Large Hadron Collider atmosphere of meetings, walk along the green escape of the High Line, New York’s elevated urban park, and catch an L Train Subway from the Meatpacking District, under the East River to Williamsburg in Brooklyn.

The neighbourhood is bristling with young men in moustaches and shorts, and women in black skinny jeans and camel suede boots. Past a matcha bar, a Pho cafe and a vegan ice-cream joint, I work my way onto a boulevard and a few turns later find myself at a big door leading into a warehouse, unmarked except for a buzzer carrying the door number. The door opens and I walk into a studio space that has Long Island light pouring in through a skylight. Huge canvasses line either side. I have arrived just a few seconds ahead of our appointed time, and a few seconds later a door in the wall opens and Brian Donnelly, or KAWS, says a quiet “Hi” and asks if I would like to follow him upstairs. He is wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, in contrast to my white shirt and white linen trousers. His sneakers are white, his cap black, glasses black- framed. He is polite and welcoming, very correct, quite reserved. He becomes animated when speaking about the art on his walls (mostly by 20th-century artists), but isn’t one for small talk.

SHARE, 2021, by KAWS, Rockefeller Center, New York

If that is a bit of a surprise, it is because there can be few things more “out there” than making your name as an artist by redecorating, without permission, walls and other public spaces as a spray-painting street artist, as Donnelly did in the 1990s. That’s where his tag, KAWS, came from. A skateboarding guy from Jersey City, New Jersey, he went to art school in New York and found that his distinctive characters and slightly bleak, subversive style quickly gained a following.

Today, Donnelly’s trademark figures, sculptures and paintings, with Xs for eyes, pervade all areas of public consciousness. Donnelly quickly started collaborating with brands: he has worked with Dior, Supreme, A Bathing Ape, Nike and dozens more, He is also consciously democratic about his collaborations: in 2021 he created cereal boxes for Reese’s Puffs, one of the best-selling cereals in the US. In 2019, his work, THE KAWS ALBUM, commissioned and sold by Japanese polymath NIGO, sold at auction at Sotheby’s Hong Kong for US$14.8m.

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Speaking with him for few hours, Donnelly came across as calm, thoughtful, private – even reticent, but with a geek passion for the artists and artistic styles he loves. It would take many more meetings to unfurl someone like him, and I never resolved one riddle to my satisfaction. KAWS is an artist, but he is also, like Andy Warhol, to whom he has been compared, something else. It is just hard to say exactly what.

KAWS at his studio

LUX: Your works are now in art institutions around the world. How does that feel?
KAWS: Of course it’s an honour to have work shown, whether it’s in an institution or public art. The reason I make work is communication, to create a dialogue with the audience, and to know that works are on display in different places and contexts is amazing for me.

LUX: When you visit the works, do you observe the audience and their reaction?
KAWS: I don’t often get to visit, but when I see that someone’s interacting with the work it’s a treat. I try to make work that is engaging, and when people stop to have a moment with it I feel like my goal is accomplished.

LUX: When you are creating a work, do you have a reaction in mind?
KAWS: Not at all. For me, I just use the work as a way to get my insights or points of view or feelings in that moment out into the world. I get into different bodies of work in different ways.

KAWS for Dior Homme SS19, 2018, Paris

LUX: When you started, consciously or not, you created work anyone can see. Now you also make works you can sell for private collections. Does it matter who sees the work?
KAWS: I don’t make work according to who I think might see it. If there’s a sculpture in a public setting, it will of course be different than a small canvas I paint. I want to make something that will engage a wider audience, so I’m conscious of creating things that are very inviting.

LUX: When you were a kid growing up in New Jersey, how did you start doing art?
KAWS: I think it’s always been a crutch for me. It was really since I was a child that I leaned into art, not just for communicating, but for having relations within school. I wasn’t really strong academically, I don’t think, and I saw art as a place I just went to. I loved that you could do it in a solitary kind of way, and bring it out into the world when you wanted. It just seems something like that could go on forever, until the end.

LUX: The art you created, even from an early age, was not traditional – it was your own original thing. Was that a conscious decision?
KAWS: When I was younger, I didn’t know a single person who was an artist for a living. It just seemed like something I did – similar to whatever sport might occupy a young person’s time. Obviously, I put a lot more energy into art-making than other things. I never imagined it could be something that you could make a living from. I didn’t have any examples of that as a child. So I thought it was something I would always be doing but I would have to find other ways to subsidise it.

KAWS artworks at the light-filled studio

LUX: You’re at the confluence of art and luxury, streetwear brands and many other things. If someone came from Mars and asked what you do, would you just say you’re an artist?
KAWS: I would just say I’m an artist. I think that’s the simplest term. I think that communicates what I do. As far as working in different mediums, or different fields, I’ve always been open to exploring any of my interests. If I’m interested in streetwear or fashion or shoes, I dive in. There are so many interesting people doing interesting things, it would be a shame to limit myself from any opportunities to learn.

LUX: You must have noticed that the art world is a bit snobbish about artists working with brands: “It’s not real art, you’re selling out…”
KAWS: Definitely. Especially in the 90s. At first when I was younger, I thought, “Oh man, this is something I have to think about.” I soon learnt that the only thing I need to do is exactly what I want to do and let the chips fall where they may. When I opened my OriginalFake store in Japan in 2006, I said, “I really don’t care if I don’t show in galleries. This is something I want to do and if that’s a conflict so be it.”

LUX: People have written that there’s a parallel with Andy Warhol, with a mix of ‘high art’ and commercial art, reflected in your works.
KAWS: Honestly, the more you learn about artists and history, the more you realise there are so many artists who delved into commercial opportunities and things that stimulated them creatively – Andy Warhol being a very large part of that. But you know there’s a lot more, it wasn’t just Warhol and Haring… Everyone kind of has their moments, whether they’re widely acknowledged or not.

artwork and neatly arranged materials at the KAWS studio

LUX: Do you think that with a new wave of millennial art collectors, people are more accepting that you can do brand collaborations as well as sell artworks through galleries?
KAWS: I think it’s become a lot more natural. Kids who grew up in my generation and younger, this is a language they’re familiar with. This was a big part of why I loved Japan so early on; it felt like there was a focus on making good stuff no matter the “category” it fell under, and that was the only real structure to it – if you’re going to do it, do it well. A sort of openness between design, art, furniture and fashion. I think the generation coming up now have grown up on this and many don’t give it a second thought. The world has become a smaller place, because of social media and the internet and whatnot. From your house, you can definitely have a view of what’s going on globally and I think that a lot of the barriers that were existing in the 90s have been broken through. Things shift, so it could turn back in the other direction, but I can’t imagine that.

LUX: It sounds like you wouldn’t be too bothered, if things shifted, as long as you were doing what you were doing?
KAWS: My goal as an artist is to bring the things in my mind to fruition. If I can find ways of doing that, then I feel like it’s successful.

LUX: Were collaborations and creations in design and fashion something that you started doing back when you were very young?
KAWS: I grew up skating and really loving that graphic culture: skateboards, T-shirts and stickers and everything that comes with it. When I’m making work, I always think about what reached me when I was young. What got me on this path? What did I enjoy? I try to make work that is true to that feeling and can reach people in those ways. It’s this sort of casual channel that introduced me to art and got me interested in the first place.

COMPANION (PASSING THROUGH), 2010, by KAWS;

LUX: There’s such an array of mediums that you work in. How do you know what you want to use, whether VR, a sculpture, work on paper? How do you make up your mind?
KAWS: I’m not methodical in any way. It just depends on what my interests are at the moment,
and what opportunities I see available for the medium I’m working in. So I might get heavily into VR, and then turn back to painting and drawing. If sculpture is on my mind, I may put that mask on and get into that work. A lot of the stuff I do happens organically, especially with collaborative work or working with musicians.

LUX: You’ve talked about what your work communicates to people. But you haven’t told me about what you would like to communicate.
KAWS: I don’t tell people what they need to see when they’re looking at the work. I think that would be impossible. They all approach it through their own lens, and have their own experience to add. I make work for myself, and the way it’s interpreted by someone else is out of my grasp.

LUX: Is there something therapeutic about making your work?
KAWS: Yes, making work is completely therapeutic to me. It’s sort of the way I navigate life. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I wasn’t making work.

the artist, art and materials at the studio;

LUX: What would you say to a young person who wants to become an artist but doesn’t know how?
KAWS: I don’t think any artist knows how to become an artist when they’re younger. It’s just something you’re driven toward or not. If you’re going to be an artist, I don’t think it’s a choice; you realise it’s what you have to do.

LUX: Has anything changed?
KAWS: It’s a long path in being an artist and the interesting part is how you form this body of work over a long period of time. How do you change as a person, how do you bring that work into play with your new thoughts? I don’t grow tired of it. I’m taking a visual language and moulding it over time. I think this little process is great.

LUX: Is it very different working with a Nike than with a Dior?
KAWS: No, it’s just different people, it’s just case by case. It really depends on the project and the people. Similarly, larger companies can be just as easy if not easier than a little boutique collaboration. Dior was really simple because I was working with Kim Jones, and he and I are pretty friendly. It was fun. It was just us asking how we can do this and we did it all under an intense timeline.

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LUX: Is there anyone still looking down at an artist who does cereal boxes as well as high art?
KAWS: Of course, I’m sure there are probably tons of people who look down on it. The world is full of opinions and you really can’t worry about it or you’ll just sit on your hands and make nothing. If you were to weigh in the opinions of every stranger, what would you get done? The cereal project was a blast. I want to do more of that. I love knowing that you can walk into a convenience store, on the corner of your block, which you’ve walked into every day of your life, and suddenly, my work’s in there and you can buy it for a few dollars. That’s priceless to me. I understand, a lot of people get to see stuff online, but most people never get to a gallery or museum, and the thought of them owning it is beyond them. Doing projects like that puts you in contact with people in a very candid way. When I’m working on something like that, I’m thinking it’s no different to a print edition, or anything else.

KAWS (HOLIDAY), 2022, by KAWS, China

LUX: You said last year that NFTs were not for you right now. What’s your view of NFTs now?
KAWS: They weren’t for me at the time. I haven’t made any. I find it fascinating – it’s great to see so many people so excited about making work, but I think a lot of the interest is commercial interest, and that’s kind of a buzzkill. With the recent decline in the crypto and NFT markets, I think it’s actually going to get more exciting; people who are doing it are going to do it because they feel the need to make it, not because they’re interested in financial gain. It’s been a rough few months for that world, but I think the good stuff will start to come.

LUX: Is it important to you that big collectors are treasuring your works and they are exchanging hands for big prices at auctions?
KAWS: The price of something is not going to change the work. Once the artwork goes into the world, it’s going to take on different lives and you can’t control that. I don’t know, I don’t spend too much time thinking about it or worrying about it. In my mind, when a work is finished, that is the moment of success for me.

LUX: Should we call you an artist? Or, with everything you have done with brands, are you something else?
KAWS: I would just keep it as artist.

Find out more: kawsone.com

This article first appeared in the Autumn/Winter 2022/23 issue of LUX