Hawk Alfredson “Falling to Earth” | Artist Interview by Miranda McDonald
Hawk Alfredson
Falling to Earth
Interview by Miranda McDonald
Photos by Mia Hanson
“Since Hawk is moving, there may be boxes everywhere,” William warns as we slowly walk up a set of steps that lead to the front door of Hawk Alfredson’s house in the Portland neighborhood. The porch squeaks a bit under our feet and the door has a sign taped to it that says: GET LOST.
William is a cofounder and one of the directors at Printed. He is also the individual who scheduled this interview with the internationally known artist, Hawk Alfredson. This Swedish painter was dubbed the “darling of the New York underground art scene” in the ‘90s, and is also the temporary owner of the porch we are currently walking across. I spent some time reading about the body of work Alfredson created over the last several decades. This work ranges from the illustrations he produced during his time at Mad Magazine, to paintings he created while living at Chelsea Hotel for over a decade. However, even with the onslaught of information I was able to dig up in preparation for this encounter, I still felt the artist was a bit of an enigma.
“Come in! Come in!” yells a man as he swings the front door open with one hand and waves us in with the other.
I look up quickly, and before I can say anything to the smiling individual now standing directly in front of me, William introduces me to Hawk.
“Should we use these?” Alfredson asks as he carries two tiny chairs to the center of the room we are now standing in. After a few minutes of introductions, the painter decided this was the perfect place to discuss his work.
“I actually prefer sitting on the floor,” I state as I walk to the edge of the rug at the center of the space.
“So, you are like an old hippie. You know you are not a true hippie if you do not sit on the floor,” Alfredson replies as he places one of the small pieces of furniture at William’s feet.
“I promise this won't be too painful,” I reply as I find my seat on the floor.
“I have been interviewed many times before. Once by Abel Ferrara. He directed a film called Bad Lieutenant. He interviewed me about Hotel Chelsea. He was a real New York character,” he explains.
Alfredson is referring to an interview that took place while Ferrara was directing a documentary in 2008 that was centered around the infamous Chelsea Hotel in New York. The painter took up residency at the hotel shortly after moving to the United States, and lived there for over a decade. In the film, Alfredson talks about his stay and also reveals that during this time a disgruntled resident had a psychotic break and slashed several of his paintings.
“Abel once walked into my hotel room unannounced and took pictures of me while I was unclothed. This was during the time when I lived there and our door didn’t fit the door frame, so it just remained partially open at all times. Abel was never shy and was part of the Hotel Chelsea scene for decades. His most known film is King of New York with Christopher Walken. Ferrara always likes to push the boundaries of what’s acceptable,” Alfredson went on to explain.
“I read there were many artists and celebrities living at the hotel while you were there,” I state.
“It was like its own mini society in New York. They had dentists, doctors and psychiatrists there. They had drug dealers and hookers, too. Everything you wanted was there,” Alfredson replies. “There were just so many crazy people there. Rich people would just drop their crazy kids off when they didn't want to deal with them. Instead of putting them in mental hospitals, they would just come in and ask the owner if they could drop them off there. It was such a nutty place to live, and I loved it. I dont think I'll ever have a period in my life that is as interesting. There was always something going on,” he explains.
“Did you get inspired by any of the people living there at the time? Did you have any muses?” I question as I place my recording device in between me and Alfredson.
“They used me as a muse!” the painter declares with a laugh. “That was my heaviest drinking period. It’s like they say about the 60s: if you remember them, you weren't really there. I can say the same about the hotel, because if you remember Hotel Chelsea, you weren't really there.”
“I read that you were featured in over 20 shows during your first year living in New York. What caused this boom in productivity and inspiration at that time?” I inquire.
“My inspiration comes more from moods. When I get into mystical states of mind- other people may call it insanity- I go to these places that are not on a normal plane. I draw inspiration from my dreams at night and my nightmares during the day,” the artist adds with a more serious tone.
Alfredson describes his work as representing a space between being awake and asleep. His use of mystical symbolism and abstract concepts often place his paintings in the realm of Magic Realism. However, the eclectic nature of his work makes it truly difficult to place him in just one particular category as an artist.
“Do you intentionally try to avoid being labeled as one type of artist?” I ask.
“No, it’s not intentional. I just get bored. I am chairman of the bored. My mind is overactive. There’s too much going on. I had a friend once say, ‘You are like a big fish, Hawk. You are like a big fish with a big mouth. You swim along taking in everything that comes your way. You got a cigarette butt over here or the stars way over there. And with people, you have to look at every person that walks by. You have to take in everything,’ and she was right,” he explains.
“All great artists should take inspiration from the things around them. Whether it's music, cinema or literature,” I state.
“But, sometimes it becomes too much. It all becomes too much to take in,” Alfredson counters with a slight hint of exasperation in his voice.
“Can you talk about some of your favorite filmmakers? I read that you have been heavily inspired by Andrei Tarkovsky over the years,” I reply.
“I went to a theater when I was younger to see a film about a Swedish photographer and accidentally walked into the wrong one. Tarkovsky was playing and I just loved it. Of course I was with a girl and we smuggled in two big bags of beer. She didn't like the film much, but I did. She just didnt get it. If you see his films, they are usually very slow, hypnotic and dreamlike. That's what I like. That is what I want to paint,” the artist explains.
As soon as he states this, I begin to contemplate how every great artist has a particular moment in their life when something just clicks. As a result of this one particular moment in time, the entire trajectory of their life changes. This accidental encounter with Tarkovsky was that very moment for Alfredson. However, as soon as I start to drift into further contemplation of this notion the painter quickly brings things back to a place of humor.
“I have a hard time taking anything serious, you know. It's just a big cosmic joke. I just can't take any of it seriously,” he states with a laugh as he shifts his body, trying to get more comfortable in his tiny chair.
After a few minutes of Alfredson explaining the many ups and downs of being in the business, he decides to join me by sitting on the floor. William follows suit.
“Hawk, we have talked about how some people find your work to be a bit scary. Why do you think people find some of your work to be so unsettling?” William asks the painter.
“When people can’t pinpoint what something is or they don't find it to be realistic, it is often unsettling to them. But, I am very open-minded,” Alfredson explains.
“How do you get into this state of being so open-minded? I read your work represents a space between being awake and asleep,” I ask. I also read an article that Alfredson takes psychedelics to get into certain states of mind while painting. I want to mention this to him, but quickly decide to wait for his response.
“It just happens. I get into this mystical state of mind most days, unless I am depressed. If I take acid, it happens more quickly of course. But sometimes I get into these moods where I ask myself: What is reality? Is this reality? Is this just some simulation?” he replies.
Alfredson is referring to the idea of simulation theory. This theory has been around for several centuries. Even the ancient Aztecs believed the world was a great painting or a book that some great deity was writing. It was re-introduced to the masses in the early 2000s when The Matrix trilogy was released. However, it was recently popularized by the billionaire genius, Elon Musk. If you are not familiar with the theory, it can be summed up in one simple sentence: Humans are living in a computer-simulated reality.
“Questioning reality started when I was younger. I was always trying to figure out what was real and what wasn't. I would see this grey shadow in the corner of my room. It would be my father checking on me. I would sometimes wake up and he would be leaning over me in the middle of the night, listening to my heart to see if I was still alive. I sometimes didn't realize it was him and would think it was some sort of ghost.”
“Do you think this nightly interaction with your father during your childhood set the stage for your work? I mean, do you see the parallels between your work and these experiences you had with him standing over your bed as this scary figure while you were half asleep?” I ask, almost fumbling over my words because I suddenly fear I have overstepped my bounds by making this assertion.
“My parents were so overprotective of me. If I sneezed or coughed they thought I would die. Most of my childhood memories were of me being at the doctor, or in and out of a hospital.They were so depressed and anxious after my sister died. I never met her. I was born a year after she passed, but her presence has affected my entire life. She is like a ghost who is always here,” he continues.
Hawk then pauses for a second to take a deep breath.
“With a childhood like that, you get kind of fucked up. I think it helps with creativity, though. You read about all of these great artists that have early trauma. I see that in me. Early trauma seems to breed good actors, painters, or really whatever.”
It isn’t until this very moment that I realize the house is almost pitch black. There is only a single beam of light streaming in from a nearby street lamp on one side of the room. The other side of the room is dimly lit by the small lightbulb that was left on in the room next to the one we are in. It feels fitting though, sitting in this darkness. No one even seems to notice, or they simply don't mention it. We just sit there in a circle talking about Alfredson’s childhood, each of us most-likely resembling the shadowy figure that lurked in the corner of the artist’s childhood room, a shadowy figure that now resides deep in the artist’s imagination.
“I’d like to circle back to your time in New York, because I feel that must have been a very exciting and inspirational time for you. Why did you initially move to New York?” I ask.
“I was traveling around Europe trying to find surrealist art. Then, when I was in Amsterdam I saw an ad for Tim Slowinski. He is an artist that mocks politicians and has a darker sense of humor. I wanted to find a place where dark, surreal art was happening, so I wrote to him. He wrote back immediately and said he loved my work and that we should do something. I sent him two small paintings. A couple months later, I booked a solo show. It all snowballed after that.”
“Did moving to New York change your work?” I replied.
“It did, but in a bad way! I got to know more and more people faster. I came to New York and asked myself: ‘How can I get to know all these people?’ So I used my art to do that. I had more friends in two weeks in New York than I had my entire time living in Sweden. The more people I knew, the more parties I got invited to. And, the more parties I got invited to, the more parties I went to. So, I painted faster and faster. The quality went down, so that changed the way my paintings looked during that time period. I had to paint things so quickly, so I had less time to spend on all the details you saw in my early work. But now I like my work to look less detailed and more fluid. So, I guess this time period ended up changing my style.”
“How did you end up in Louisville?” I ask. I had heard the artist moved to Louisville in 2018, but had only showcased his work a handful of times since moving to the city.
“Gill Holland brought me here,” he responds.
“Can I ask you something?” William interjects. “What are you going to miss about living in Portland?”
“Portland has really made an impression on me. Keep Louisville weird? That’s wrong. Keep Portland weird? Now, that’s what makes sense!”
“You are funny,” I say. “I think because your work has darker undertones that most people wouldn't realize that about you.”
“The first thing I wanted to be was a clown,” Alfredson confesses.
“Well, that was definitely not on the internet,” I say with a hint of sarcasm.
“And then I think I wanted to be some James Bond type secret agent. Then I went to archaeology. How did that happen? I don't know. But then I started to realize I was very good at drawing. At school people would gather around my desk to watch me draw. I mean I would spend weeks on just one drawing and the smallest details. Around [the age of] 7 or 8 I told my parents I wanted to be an artist. That’s when my mind was made up. But right before that I wanted to be an astronomer- something to do with the stars,” the artist explains as he slaps his knee and smiles at William.
“You know, you still have time,” I reply.
But you see, that’s the thing about Hawk Alfredson. In a world where so many artists are trying to understand and depict the intimate and sometimes mundane details of the human experience, Alfredson is attempting to transport us to a place that completely transcends the human experience. In a way, his mind is always up in the clouds, among the stars- or maybe even on some other planet in some distant galaxy. But through his work, he is always inviting us to join him in this exploration.
If you would like to know more about Hawk Alfredson, please visit:
Website- www.hawkalfredson.com
The Tim Faulkner Gallery on November 5th at 6 PM for the opening of One Man Group Show with Hawk Alfredson and see “a truly unusual selection of [Hawk’s] paintings, brought together for the first time.”
