May 2024 Featured Artist
A Tale of Art and Survival
An Interview with
Carole Richard Kaufmann
Carole Richard Kaufmann
Photo Courtesy: Carole Richard Kaufmann |
Born in Lowell, Massachusetts, Carole Richard Kaufmann has traveled the globe. Her paintings and drawings reflect her passions for feminism, art and politics as well as the people and landscapes she has discovered along the way, from Europe to China with journeys along the Silk Road, safaris in South Africa, and treks through South America and the Easter Islands, always in search of ‘Ch'i,’ the energy of life.
Carole is a founding member and past president of the West Side Arts Coalition (WSAC), which was founded in 1979 by a group of visual and performing artists on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. She is also a signature member of the National Association of Women Artists (NAWA) and a member of the association’s Board of Directors. Her work is in many private and corporate collections worldwide, including the National Museum of Women in the Arts, Washington, D.C. Since 1972, she has worked and shown from her New York City studio. "And when I look at my work, I am my canvases. What I feel is on the paper, on the canvas. That’s who I am." ~ Carole Richard Kaufmann |
To describe Carole Richard Kaufmann, you’d have to run through the length of the alphabet — adventuresome to zestful — and you still wouldn’t cover it. In between you’d find determined, energetic, irrepressible, joyful, opinionated, talented, voracious and wise. Sandra Bertrand, travel & culture editor, recently had the good fortune to revisit Carole in her Manhattan studio and find she still exemplifies in her eighth decade all these qualities and more. She last interviewed Carole for the National Association of Women Artists in the fall of 2022.
No surprise, a lot has happened in the world and to all of us on a personal level since I interviewed you in '22. I’d like to start by asking you about your comings and goings since you lost your husband, your life partner.
Denial and repression are my two best friends. I’ve always said that. My daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren were truly distraught. They adored my husband. He was an all-powerful figure in our family, truly the patriarch. And they were heartbroken.
No surprise, a lot has happened in the world and to all of us on a personal level since I interviewed you in '22. I’d like to start by asking you about your comings and goings since you lost your husband, your life partner.
Denial and repression are my two best friends. I’ve always said that. My daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren were truly distraught. They adored my husband. He was an all-powerful figure in our family, truly the patriarch. And they were heartbroken.
After your husband passed, you traveled to California to see your daughter and her family.
Yes. I think they want me there. They come here much more often than I go there, three or four times a year, so it’s only fair I go there once! (Laughter)
You have a new studio now in the same space on West 39th Street. Did that help, as a kind of catharsis?
I moved into the new space because I had to downsize, and this is a less expensive space because I have three large windows instead of six. It’s really a plus because I have more wall space. So, before I left, I had a big sale. I adjusted the prices so I could move a lot of work, and I was thrilled that I sold so many of my large paintings and drawings. I thought nobody’s ever going to want these large goddesses except me.
But they did!
They carted them out to their cars.
That must have been a very lifting experience!
SO satisfying. I thought it would be a wrenching experience. I liked my floor and the people on it, but I find the new space is a better working space.
Yes. I think they want me there. They come here much more often than I go there, three or four times a year, so it’s only fair I go there once! (Laughter)
You have a new studio now in the same space on West 39th Street. Did that help, as a kind of catharsis?
I moved into the new space because I had to downsize, and this is a less expensive space because I have three large windows instead of six. It’s really a plus because I have more wall space. So, before I left, I had a big sale. I adjusted the prices so I could move a lot of work, and I was thrilled that I sold so many of my large paintings and drawings. I thought nobody’s ever going to want these large goddesses except me.
But they did!
They carted them out to their cars.
That must have been a very lifting experience!
SO satisfying. I thought it would be a wrenching experience. I liked my floor and the people on it, but I find the new space is a better working space.
We were talking earlier about two of your canvases that were done following your husband’s death. One of the things I’ve observed since I’ve been in the room is that your work involves your ongoing concern with the environment — dark, turbulent, but vibrant. But they seem to show a rupture of something. As you said, after moving into this space you’re working on a new canvas which is populated by many aspects of your personality — the lightness and color in it is joyous. Do you feel there’s been a real transition there?
The title is ‘She Chose Joy.’
The title is ‘She Chose Joy.’
She Chose Joy
Oil on Canvas ~ 22 x 28 inches
© Carole Richard Kaufmann
Oil on Canvas ~ 22 x 28 inches
© Carole Richard Kaufmann
So, I guess I intimated something there.
I circulated a photo of it to my family for titles. And my daughter said, ‘She’s joy.’ And I said, ‘She chose joy.’ And they said it was all biographical.
(At this point, we study the canvas, still partially completed, on her easel.)
It’s quite fascinating because in the upper left corner there is a young girl with hands on her hips in a defiant pose, which is you at a young age, then Wonder Woman who’s always been a heroine, then a religious figure --
Kwan Yin, Goddess of Compassion.
And then a mother and child and the Chinese figure of the Buddha...and in the center of the canvas is Minnie Mouse! I wanted to make a comment about that, because you have said previously that the six-year-old’s curiosity still lives inside of you. And each time you approach a new work you aim for that same freshness, that innocence. You hope that’s still an integral part of you.
I hope I’m still able to reach into that innocence and joy. It’s very hard to find in the world we’re living in.
Do you watch less television, read less news?
Yes. I was watching MSNBC from ten to twelve at night. I don’t do that anymore. I watch Stephen Colbert. I tape him and watch him the next night at ten o’clock. I’ve given up a lot of news broadcasts that I find disturbing. I used to watch PBS from seven to eight. I don’t anymore. I can’t bear to look at the war pictures. They’re so distressing, the politics unnerving. I’m terrified about the election, I’m afraid for our democracy. I’m afraid of how violent people are.
I circulated a photo of it to my family for titles. And my daughter said, ‘She’s joy.’ And I said, ‘She chose joy.’ And they said it was all biographical.
(At this point, we study the canvas, still partially completed, on her easel.)
It’s quite fascinating because in the upper left corner there is a young girl with hands on her hips in a defiant pose, which is you at a young age, then Wonder Woman who’s always been a heroine, then a religious figure --
Kwan Yin, Goddess of Compassion.
And then a mother and child and the Chinese figure of the Buddha...and in the center of the canvas is Minnie Mouse! I wanted to make a comment about that, because you have said previously that the six-year-old’s curiosity still lives inside of you. And each time you approach a new work you aim for that same freshness, that innocence. You hope that’s still an integral part of you.
I hope I’m still able to reach into that innocence and joy. It’s very hard to find in the world we’re living in.
Do you watch less television, read less news?
Yes. I was watching MSNBC from ten to twelve at night. I don’t do that anymore. I watch Stephen Colbert. I tape him and watch him the next night at ten o’clock. I’ve given up a lot of news broadcasts that I find disturbing. I used to watch PBS from seven to eight. I don’t anymore. I can’t bear to look at the war pictures. They’re so distressing, the politics unnerving. I’m terrified about the election, I’m afraid for our democracy. I’m afraid of how violent people are.
You find a way to express your feelings creatively. Even with one canvas, if you can bring some joy into the world, there’s hope in that.
I’m working on a small series called ‘Make Love Not War.’ And they’re interesting little pieces but they get the point across.
(At this point, Carole pulled out a file drawer, showing me samples of the series that employ the Chinese character symbol of man and woman.)
It’s a fun series, and I enjoy doing them.
I’m working on a small series called ‘Make Love Not War.’ And they’re interesting little pieces but they get the point across.
(At this point, Carole pulled out a file drawer, showing me samples of the series that employ the Chinese character symbol of man and woman.)
It’s a fun series, and I enjoy doing them.
Make Love Not War Series
Archival Ink on Poster Board ~ 15 x 14 inches © Carole Richard Kaufmann |
Make Love Not War Series
Archival Ink on Poster Board ~ 11.5 x 11 inches © Carole Richard Kaufmann |
Make Love Not War Series
Archival Ink on Poster Board ~ 16 x 14 inches © Carole Richard Kaufmann |
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With the struggle we’re going through in the world at large, do you feel the making of art should be concerned with these issues?
Absolutely. Every once in a while, I let loose, and this is the kind of thing that comes out. (Carole pulls out a painting at this point, featuring a fanciful, cartoonish group of women, one subject appearing to strangle the male figure by his necktie.) It’s comical. I mean it to be. It’s shocking. I mean it to be shocking. (Laughter) Nothing wrong in finding a little lightness in what we’re facing. We have to. |
After Dobbs
Oil on Canvas ~ 24 x 30 inches © Carole Richard Kaufmann |
I know you’re a wonderful traveler. When you were traveling with your husband, that was a big part of your life. And of course, it’s educational as well. Have you thought about where you might go next?
I think about it a lot. I’m not sure if I’m going to travel anymore except to see my daughter and son-in-law. I think I’ve seen so much of the world. I’ve been very lucky. It’s a gift to be able to travel the way I have. All through Asia, even the ‘stans.’ (Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Turkmenistan). That trip was phenomenal. I’m still using images from that in my work. After that, we went to Europe, but that was the last major five-week trip we took.
Would you say that was almost transcendental?
It was mind-blowing. In Uzbekistan, we stayed in the house of an old Jewish merchant in the Jewish quarter, which was in the ghetto, and it was incredible. I was looking at merchandise in the square, and a woman said over the counter ‘shalom;’ so I said, ‘shalom’ and then ‘synagogue?’ And then she said ‘Jewish?’
She had a little girl take me by the hand to the old synagogue. I went back to get my husband, and we met a little Rabbi there. He gave us a book we took back to our Rabbi. But it was the experience of living in this house! A solid building with an arched opening, and then you’re in the ghetto. Directly to the left was the entrance to this house that we stayed in. We walked through and there was a little desk, then another arch that opened into the courtyard with all of these beautiful sculptures and painted walls with huge vases of flowers. When we were shown to our room, it was also painted the same way. The room was gigantic, sparse but so incredibly beautiful, so moving. I will never not envision that, the courtyard stairs and walkways going up to other parts of the building that were all connected. We would have breakfast on a balcony overlooking the courtyard.
I think about it a lot. I’m not sure if I’m going to travel anymore except to see my daughter and son-in-law. I think I’ve seen so much of the world. I’ve been very lucky. It’s a gift to be able to travel the way I have. All through Asia, even the ‘stans.’ (Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Turkmenistan). That trip was phenomenal. I’m still using images from that in my work. After that, we went to Europe, but that was the last major five-week trip we took.
Would you say that was almost transcendental?
It was mind-blowing. In Uzbekistan, we stayed in the house of an old Jewish merchant in the Jewish quarter, which was in the ghetto, and it was incredible. I was looking at merchandise in the square, and a woman said over the counter ‘shalom;’ so I said, ‘shalom’ and then ‘synagogue?’ And then she said ‘Jewish?’
She had a little girl take me by the hand to the old synagogue. I went back to get my husband, and we met a little Rabbi there. He gave us a book we took back to our Rabbi. But it was the experience of living in this house! A solid building with an arched opening, and then you’re in the ghetto. Directly to the left was the entrance to this house that we stayed in. We walked through and there was a little desk, then another arch that opened into the courtyard with all of these beautiful sculptures and painted walls with huge vases of flowers. When we were shown to our room, it was also painted the same way. The room was gigantic, sparse but so incredibly beautiful, so moving. I will never not envision that, the courtyard stairs and walkways going up to other parts of the building that were all connected. We would have breakfast on a balcony overlooking the courtyard.
It sounds like when you saw that it opened you up, this airy space was there in your heart.
The name of the city was Bukhara, which is famous for its rugs.
Well, speaking about that kind of experience you can get from travel, when you think about times you were surprised and even elevated by another artist’s work, can you name one or two?
My first experience was van Gogh. I fell in love with this work. I’ve always loved it. I never really cared about Miro, but then I was in Barcelona and went to the museum there and came out enthralled. I was amazed.
The name of the city was Bukhara, which is famous for its rugs.
Well, speaking about that kind of experience you can get from travel, when you think about times you were surprised and even elevated by another artist’s work, can you name one or two?
My first experience was van Gogh. I fell in love with this work. I’ve always loved it. I never really cared about Miro, but then I was in Barcelona and went to the museum there and came out enthralled. I was amazed.
Climate Series
Oil on Canvas ~ 30 x 30 inches © Carole Richard Kaufmann |
Two artists who couldn’t be more different from one another. And yet they spoke to you. In van Gogh one of the things that gets through to people is an emotional power that comes through.
He is his canvases. And when I look at my work, I am my canvases. What I feel is on the paper, on the canvas. That’s who I am. It’s like the painting we were talking about, with the Minnie Mouse figure ("She Chose Joy"). It’s your biography. And there are the mourning pieces. Not just the climate pieces* but [those inspired by] the loss in my life. *Carole has said that her works about climate change parallel her inner climate change. It’s wonderful that you have that outlet, that gift to find a way to release it. I feel very blessed. In line with that thinking, of being blessed and being a woman and an artist, there seems to be a surge in the culture recently, more of a public awareness of women in their eighties and up. (Boisterous laughter from Carole ensues.) If we can be honest, we may never have expected that such a thing was possible. Right! |
But all of a sudden, we’ve had exhibitions of Bette Sahr, Faith Ringgold, the Argentinean Marta Minujin, Audrey Flack, Kay WalkingStick…and when Kay WalkingStick talks about her paintings, she is that painting. It’s an almost unstoppable level of energy at play in older women artists. How do you feel about your mature work, your own survival to a ripe age? You’ve tried to hold on to that energy of a six-year-old, but in truth, there is a slowing down. Do you feel that’s affected you at all, or are you fighting against it?
I’m fighting very hard. I’m still working five days a week. I work five hours a day, sometimes six. I have a very strange amount of energy. I don’t feel my age physically. I’m doing a lot of exercise and I just feel strong. It’s really a gift to keep doing this.
So, you’re not aware of age?
I’m cautious.
You’re probably not taking as many risks in terms of travel, though.
I’m not.
But you’re very content with the work you’re doing.
I’m very content to be able to come here five days a week and stand at my easel or drafting table and keep doing the work. After my husband died, I came in and I started thinking, ‘What will I do?’ So I started a series, ‘Widderwoman.’
(Carole proceeded to show me work from that series, including ‘I’m Dancing as Fast as I Can.’ The female figures are finely wrought ink expressions in various stages of motion.)
I’m fighting very hard. I’m still working five days a week. I work five hours a day, sometimes six. I have a very strange amount of energy. I don’t feel my age physically. I’m doing a lot of exercise and I just feel strong. It’s really a gift to keep doing this.
So, you’re not aware of age?
I’m cautious.
You’re probably not taking as many risks in terms of travel, though.
I’m not.
But you’re very content with the work you’re doing.
I’m very content to be able to come here five days a week and stand at my easel or drafting table and keep doing the work. After my husband died, I came in and I started thinking, ‘What will I do?’ So I started a series, ‘Widderwoman.’
(Carole proceeded to show me work from that series, including ‘I’m Dancing as Fast as I Can.’ The female figures are finely wrought ink expressions in various stages of motion.)
Widderwoman Series
Archival Ink on Poster Board ~ 11.5x 10.5 inches © Carole Richard Kaufmann |
Widderwoman Series
Archival Ink on Poster Board ~ 12 x 12 inches © Carole Richard Kaufmann |
Widderwoman Series
Archival Ink on Poster Board ~ 17 x 14 inches © Carole Richard Kaufmann |
There’s something in their movements, a certain kind of release.
I’ve been working hard on these. I don’t even understand all of them.
You have a wonderful sense of pattern and design.
They are designs of how I was feeling at the moment. Whatever was going on was coming out in these pen drawings.
It’s almost like they’re transforming into a botanical shape. It’s more than human.
(Laughter). Yes, they’re very strange. I’ve always said I’m very strange.
It’s like she’s who she is but she’s also morphing into something else.
I think they’re connected to sexuality.
They’re fanciful, musical.
Sometimes when I’m home alone and there’s music on the TV, I dance. I move to the music.
I went to a jazz show recently at Dizzy’s Club in Manhattan. It’s hard to sit quietly in your seat.
(Laughter) We gave it up because we needed to go to jazz clubs to move.
There is something really free and joyful about the drawings.
It’s fun. It’s my therapy. Definitely.
Can you explain ‘widderwoman?’
“Widder.” I didn’t want to say ‘widow.’ None of us know how to explain how we feel.
But for many, it’s almost a universal condition. In terms of gender, they say that women tend to live longer than men.
They do. My mother lived to be ninety-five. My father died at sixty-nine.
As a “widderwoman,” have you thought about what kind of legacy or imprint you want to leave? I think it’s there in your work.
That’s my legacy. Hopefully, it will live on after me. There’s a lot of work out in the world and people who own my work seem to love it. If it makes them happy, it makes me happy. It’s very gratifying to have someone want your work, to want to live with it. A wonderful woman who bought one of the very large goddesses said, ‘Don’t tell my husband I’m buying this, but it’s going on the bedroom wall.’ It’s maybe 60 x 40 inches — a big, tall, colored pencil drawing.
(We discussed Carole’s most recent exhibits in the building before her move and then a large show held in the new gallery.)
I haven’t been making an effort to find a gallery or doing anything like that, but I am planning on putting something in NAWA’s annual exhibition.
I’ve been working hard on these. I don’t even understand all of them.
You have a wonderful sense of pattern and design.
They are designs of how I was feeling at the moment. Whatever was going on was coming out in these pen drawings.
It’s almost like they’re transforming into a botanical shape. It’s more than human.
(Laughter). Yes, they’re very strange. I’ve always said I’m very strange.
It’s like she’s who she is but she’s also morphing into something else.
I think they’re connected to sexuality.
They’re fanciful, musical.
Sometimes when I’m home alone and there’s music on the TV, I dance. I move to the music.
I went to a jazz show recently at Dizzy’s Club in Manhattan. It’s hard to sit quietly in your seat.
(Laughter) We gave it up because we needed to go to jazz clubs to move.
There is something really free and joyful about the drawings.
It’s fun. It’s my therapy. Definitely.
Can you explain ‘widderwoman?’
“Widder.” I didn’t want to say ‘widow.’ None of us know how to explain how we feel.
But for many, it’s almost a universal condition. In terms of gender, they say that women tend to live longer than men.
They do. My mother lived to be ninety-five. My father died at sixty-nine.
As a “widderwoman,” have you thought about what kind of legacy or imprint you want to leave? I think it’s there in your work.
That’s my legacy. Hopefully, it will live on after me. There’s a lot of work out in the world and people who own my work seem to love it. If it makes them happy, it makes me happy. It’s very gratifying to have someone want your work, to want to live with it. A wonderful woman who bought one of the very large goddesses said, ‘Don’t tell my husband I’m buying this, but it’s going on the bedroom wall.’ It’s maybe 60 x 40 inches — a big, tall, colored pencil drawing.
(We discussed Carole’s most recent exhibits in the building before her move and then a large show held in the new gallery.)
I haven’t been making an effort to find a gallery or doing anything like that, but I am planning on putting something in NAWA’s annual exhibition.
Fantasy Goddess of Longevity and Peace
Oil on Canvas ~ 30 x 30 inches © Carole Richard Kaufmann |
It might be your pictorial biography, “She Chose Joy.”
Yes. And I think we make the decision how we’re going to be in our lives. I think that’s very important, almost like a mantra when you get up in the morning. You say to yourself, this is how I want the day to turn out. And finally, where and how do you find sanctuary? Sanctuary is in my studio. I’m going to downsize my apartment so I can keep my studio because it’s so important to me. It’s a lifeline for you. It is a lifeline. I am what I do. I don’t know who I would be without it. I think I’d be lost. I’m very lucky. I’m honored to be interviewed a second time [referring to the '22 interview with Sandra for NAWA]. I’m honored, Carole, to be able to share with you what drives us in our lives to bring us to a more joyous place. It’s so easy to be unhappy. It’s so important to make the move to be happy. You have! My effort is coming to the studio every day and working. It’s my lifesaver. (She opens a pastry box nearby.) Have another cookie. |
UPCOMING EXHIBITION:
NAWA 135th Anniversary Annual Exhibition
Carole's "She Chose Joy"
One Art Space
23 Warren Street
New York, NY
June 7 - June 22, 2024
NAWA 135th Anniversary Annual Exhibition
Carole's "She Chose Joy"
One Art Space
23 Warren Street
New York, NY
June 7 - June 22, 2024
