Collection: Visiting George Read's Studio

1. You went to school to pursue biology and chemistry as a pre-med student. A humanities requirement at Harvard and a particular lecturer deviated you from your original path and sparked your interest in the arts and Art History. What was your experience studying under this professor and getting your hands dirty in studio work for the first time? Any brief takeaways or quotes you remember from school that have stuck with you? 

Yes, a medical career did seem to be pre-ordained. Both parents, my aunts and uncles- nearly all of them were doctors or nurses. An uncle and two cousins were pharmacists. We listened to medical jargon at meals, on long car trips, everywhere. Growing up in a medical family really is a bit different. Anyway, where I was headed wasn't in doubt; all that was left in discussion was my field of specialization.

Then to Semour Slive, the lecturer you ask about, reknowned scholar on Dutch artists of the Golden Age, author, museum director, icon. In a semester or two, art history replaced medicine as the most complex, challenging, creative field that could be. So, in brief, I graduated with an art history degree.

2. It’s been written that you work quickly and on as many as a dozen things at once, a practice that you picked up from your former mentor, Eduardo Chillida. I find this interesting. How does this help you continue creating in rhythm? Does this process help you from slowing down or getting stuck in a creative rut? Is it ever overwhelming to have several pieces at various stages at once? 

Señor Chillida was a master of a certain kind of criticism. His was criticism in the classic sense, meaning something closer to "analysis." He could push you in a positive direction, sometimes forcefully, but seemingly without intruding. One day he told me we shared a shortcoming; we over-analyzed. His suggested I do what he did to suppress it; work on several things at once. Work on something only when your progress is smooth. If you reach an impasse, move to something else.

3. How else was Chillida particularly impactful in your art journey?

Chillida was quite intense. He showed us that there were difficult, serious issues in painting and sculpture that would require every bit of focus we could bring to bear on them. He understood pictorial space, both empty space and full space, to be plastic, malleable and ever-shifting. That space is where the the artist works. For example, when Chillida drew a line, he saw it as something that divided his space into two parts; what was on one side of the line, and the other. If he painted a black rectangle, he had created  a solid form that filled space and, just as important, gave shape to the emptiness all around it. To force this sort of visual and mental discipline on yourself can be draining.

4. Again from your bio, I noted your summer working as the famed art critic, Harold Rosenburg’s assistant in the Hamptons. When you speak of “artistic toughening up,” what did some of those exercises look like?  

Mr. Rosenberg was a towering figure, the most powerful art critic in America. He didn't suffer fools. Then, I was ice hockey, lacrosse, and football-tough, but I hadn't run up against anything like Harold Rosenberg whose toughness was mental, and quite legendary. I encountered him the summer I became his gardener. He found out I was an art history major at Harvard and thought I needed to be disabused of any notion that the safe, sheltered life of an art history academic was for me.

We sat together for lunch every day, Harold, his wife, and I. Harold would open his mail at the table, and it was always loaded with illustrated gallery announcements. He'd use them like flash cards. He'd hold up a picture of a painting and demand my opinion. If I tried to equivocate, he'd catch me and demand a straight reply. If I defended what in his opinion was indefensible, he'd tear my argument to shreds. If I supported what he supported without proper reason or analysis, he'd roar. It would be hard to imagine a better two months.

5. Tell us a bit about your first show in Paris with Japanese sculptor, Tetsuo Harada. You were noticed by French critic Michel Tapie. Did you have clarity at that time that you wanted to pursue art or were you open to other opportunities? Was your decision to join Sotheby’s difficult at the time, since you were just getting started as a practicing artist for a short period of time or were you open to various opportunities within the art industry, besides being hands-on with your craft? 

Tetsuo Harada and I were offered a two-man show by a cool off-the-beaten-track gallery in Paris, called Le Fort des Halles, named after the famous brotherhood of strong men who pulled hundreds of tons of produce to and from the Paris haymarket on hand-drawn carts every morning in the dark. The gallery was next to the market and the street was littered in the mornings with pieces of cabbage, stray leaves, and the straw used to pack the vegetables. Tetsuo showed his beautiful polished eggs emerging from rough blocks of granite, and I put together framed raw canvas assemblages, the folds and waves in the cloth gathered and tied in shallow relief. The show was quite a hit and among our admirers was the prominent art critic Michel Tapie. Mr. Tapie was very generous and offered us studio space in the new Pompidou Centre. As luck would have it, another visitor at the show was from Sotheby's. I was offered a job in the New York office and, with reluctance, followed the promise of a corporate career.

6. Sothebys seemed to have offered an unmatched depth to your overall experience in the art world. Did it satisfy your art interests completely with the level at which you were called to perform? Were you able to work on your own artwork during this time or was it completely put on pause? 

If one were given the choice in one's 20s to forge ahead as an artist, or to give up studio work for a time in exchange for the chance to be in close proximity to the world's most beautiful art and its most talented specialists, which road do you take?

7. Several celebrities have looked to you for advice and insight for their antique purchases. Is there an unforgettable encounter among these experiences? (* Note to KC readers and collectors - he has plenty of stories from this time which makes studio visits and art purchases a full experience)

Years ago, I was invited to Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward's place. They'd purchased a provincial French armoire, a massive piece with lots of carving and it had just been delivered. They'd had a long lunch with friends and bought it at an antique shop owned by an acquaintance. I looked it over, and the news was not going to be good. I was worrying about how to break the news. They must have seen the distress in my face because they changed the subject and talked for the next hour about all sorts of things, but not the armoire. On the way out Mr. Newman took me aside and asked what I thought. I told him. He just smiled and said don't worry kid, I'll take care of it.

8. Favorite types of antiques or pieces from certain periods you personally tend to collect or gravitate toward?

I was trained as a specialist in 17th and 18th century Continental and English furniture, but my preference these days is in modernist forms, from anywhere.

9. How do you begin your day in your studio at Redux? 

I begin each day by looking over what I did the previous session, and I usually pick up something that has nothing to do with what I had planned.

10. Artists whose work have always inspired you? 

I usually study the work of artists whose work is nothing like mine. I'll find a small detail, something in a corner maybe, and use it as a starting point.

11. Favorite recent book or article from summer reading? 

"What the Ermine Saw," a terrific book about Leonardo da Vinci. I'm about half through it.

12. You recently partnered with the Quogue gallery in the Hamptons to showcase your work alongside your daughter in law, Sally King Benedict. How was that experience? Did you enjoy engaging with Quogue gallery collectors and art enthusiasts in a gallery setting? Any interesting responses to your work? 

The Quogue show was an absolutel pleasure in every way. Quogue New York, near it's famous neighbor, Southampton, is stunning. Sally's work and mine have little in common, but cohabited peaceably side by side.

13. You often work with Artizom framers in Charleston. How would you recommend framing your paper works? 

Artizom is a special place. They will take on any challenge- I think they have just constructed a frame that is 20 feet long. For my much more modest needs they have been incredibly generous with their expert advice on the entire process, proportions, mats, colors, and materials. I can't say enough about them.

14. Do you have plans to experiment with any particular medium or theme this fall? 

I am going to work in shallow relief, perhaps in ivory monochrome. The forms will be apparent mainly through variations in texture and shadow.