Carmen Cicero in Conversation

Ebony Some observers find psychosexual narratives in some many of your images. Others suggest that there are sociopolitical themes in your work. How do you personally respond to the resultant narrative content of your images? 

Cicero I rarely consciously put sexual imagery in my paintings. Although I do on occasion. The things that come from the unconscious, without intervention of the intellect, [are] likely to be valid as an expression. For me, whatever emerges as sexual content in that way is valid; and sex is, of course, just a part of life. Regarding the political, I hate political art. What I mean by political art is when someone puts forward ideas or political views in their works that are specific to the time and place they are living—communism, socialism, fascism, or even democracy and capitalism, framed as a significant social statement. An artist must remember that one hundred years from today, those things that you consider so important as political and social expression will probably be unknown, and almost certainly not understood. For example, who knows what the specific sociopolitical situation was at the time that Rembrandt painted? Or what were the prevailing political views of Van Gogh’s era? That is not what is important about their art. I believe that authoritarian regimes are those that use and value political art the most. 

Ebony What is the role of humor in your art? And what are some incidents of humor you have found in other artist’s works? 

Cicero When I was a young man, I was very funny. When you get to be my age, though, being a clown is unseemly. I enjoyed being funny, and making people laugh. And I do have a sense of humor in my art. But back then, comedy or even having a sense of humor in your work was very tricky; people frowned upon it. You see very little humor in work of the 1940s, ’50s, or even later. But more recently, I said, if that’s what I think and feel—and I think I’m pretty damn good—I don’t care any longer about who might like it or not like it. And if it doesn’t go anywhere, I don’t give a damn about that, either. There was some humor in the Dada period. Duchamp had humor. And in the past, Daumier had humor in his work. You know the bathtub image, with the guy just sinking into the tub? Some of Goya’s works also had humor in them. Many people think of his work as political. But I see it primarily as a comment on the human condition. 

Ebony So far in your long career, what would you say was the highest point, and what was the lowest? 

Cicero I think the highest point was the first show at the Guggenheim Museum [in 1959] that Frank Lloyd Wright had designed. I was in that show, along with Picasso, Miró, and pretty much all the great artists of the Western world at that time. I was pretty proud of myself, but for some reason I didn’t show up at the opening, and I don’t remember why. That’s the exhibition where Miró saw and admired my work. The lowest point, without a doubt, was when my carriage house in Englewood, New Jersey, burned to the ground. The top floor was my apartment, and the first floor was my studio. It was filled with my paintings, which were figurative abstractions. No one was painting like that at the time. Some artists would come by and ridicule them. But as far as I know, I was one of the first Figurative Expressionists. Everything was lost in the fire. 

Ebony So then it appeared as if you had abruptly changed your style, but the transitional works were there, correct? 

Cicero I made a drawing, Farewell Abstract Expressionism [1961], that the Whitney Museum owns, that relates to the transition. But there were major canvases in the studio, paintings fifteen feet long, and many other works of all kinds that are gone. I remember one painting called The Cancer. My father died of cancer, and soon after, I made this painting that was grim and deeply emotional. It showed a man with his legs cut off, and grimacing. I didn’t know it at the time, but my father had testicular cancer and they had to remove them. The image outdid Francis Bacon in terms of grimness. But I think it was a very good painting—filled with emotion and intensity. 

Ebony Did you keep photographic records of them? 

Cicero Yes! But those burned, too. 

Ebony How did you recover from that? 

Cicero I just made up my mind, and said, “Damn it, I am going to get through this, and I am going to continue to paint.” I think that painting pulled me through. I moved to New York. When I came to the city, and said I was an artist, everyone would ask, “Well, where is your work?” And I said, “I don’t have any.” I had a hell of time getting started again, but I did it. 

Ebony What advice today would you give to young artists? 

Cicero I would say, “Don’t do it!” 

Ebony There is some hope out there, though, isn’t there? 

Cicero When I entered the art scene in New York City as a young man, there were probably ten or fifteen galleries showing modern or contemporary art. Everybody knew everybody. When Willem de Kooning or Jackson Pollock had an opening, everyone would show up. The art world was small and exciting, and the international scene had just shifted from Paris to New York. There was a good chance for success. I just got a pamphlet the other day listing one hundred and fifty galleries in Lower Manhattan alone. A complete guide to all the New York galleries is like a telephone book. That’s what young people have to face when they go into it. So, when I say to young artists, “Don’t do it,” what I mean is, don’t do it unless you believe in your talent, you have great drive, and you can’t think of anything else you can do. If you love art, and you love what you do, it can be wonderful. You can have a charmed life. I feel like I have a charmed life.

©David Ebony 2024