We were lucky to catch up with Bonnie Levinson recently and have shared our conversation below.

Alright, Bonnie thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Did you always know you wanted to pursue a creative or artistic career? When did you first know?

In the 12th grade, I was given an assignment to interview the person I admired most in the Arts. At that time I was an aspiring musical theater actress and thought I would interview Hal Prince, but a visit to MOMA changed all that.

I came upon them unexpectedly. There were several in the room. I stood for a long time in front of a large orange pulsating canvas. The colors completely engulfed me. I was breathing, smelling, ingesting the painting through every fiber in my being. I was trembling, on the verge of tears; I had never felt anything like it before. I referred to it years later as my first catharsis. It would not be my last.

I found his name listed in the New York City phone book. Imagine a time when people listed their number and their address in a phone book. He was probably caught off guard. What do you say to a twelfth-grader who tells you that you are the artist they admire most in the world and then requests an interview? You say yes of course, even if you are tormented, cranky, surly, arrogant, and deeply depressed. I had no idea that he didn’t give interviews. I didn’t know of his dark side or what was going on in his life at the time.

On Tuesday, April 29, 1969 I spent my first afternoon with an artist in his studio at 157 East 69th Street. Marcus Rothkowitz from Latvia had become Mark Rothko. I took the Long Island Railroad into Penn Station and traversed the town. I spent my train time rehearsing questions from my index cards. I rang the bell of his townhouse. From the outside, it looked more like someone’s home, not what I imagined of a real art studio. I must have had a puzzled, disappointed look on my face, not dissimilar to his expression when he answered the door. He didn’t look like an artist.

Wearing a white shirt and skinny black tie, his tortoise shell rimmed glasses and thinning hair made him look more like a professor than an artist, and older than his sixty-five years. He was not a large man, but he was intimidating. He silently motioned for me to follow him. There was no paint on his pants. Where was the paint? I was about to say something about that when another man equally old interrupted us and joined us in the small sitting room. I thought he was there to help, but now when I think of it perhaps he was there as a witness and chaperone. I yanked at my kelly green micro mini dress trying to pull it down towards my knees so I could sit appropriately. I focused and quickly put my long dirty blonde hair up into a ponytail. Methodically, I took out my notes, my index cards, my cassette player, tapes, pens and paper. He puffed hard and long on what looked like a handmade cigarette. It didn’t have a filter. His legs were crossed and he leaned way back.

With a raspy voice he said, “I think before I start the interview I ought to say that I will not answer your questions. I am not a critic or judge nor am I an art historian, but I’d like to help as much as possible.”

What—not answer my questions? I could feel the heat rising up to my face, a deep gulp forming in my throat, a tickle in my nose. Fighting back tears, I raised my index cards, covering my face. “I know that you feel it is important for the spectator to submerge himself in a pure color space experience and the viewer completes the painting. Could you explain why you feel this way?”

He looked at me and inhaled deeply, the circles of perfectly formed O’s rising up and up. “In my paintings the picture is the measure of the spectator; the silent paintings reflect what the viewer brings with him. I am not trying to communicate any specific meaning or message just to express a mood and a feeling to the viewer. You complete the painting, not the artist.”

“Many people feel that modern art is not good because they do not feel that the paintings take a long time to produce. How do you react to this?” He took a drag of the cigarette with his thumb and index finger holding what was now a small nub. His lips pressed hard, pulling his breath in deeply to inhale the very last bit of the butt.

I held my breath.

He exhaled. “A painting is what you are and what you feel. It isn’t concrete or defined. So far as I am concerned, it takes an entire lifetime until the moment you feel you complete the specific work to truly create it. The painting or work is an accumulation of your experiences and thoughts up to that point.”

I was dizzy. All I could do was read my final question “You seem to rely on color and large floating shapes to express yourself. I have heard you do not accept principles of design and you do not feel texture is important, but yet your paintings are not flat, and I feel that texture and depth dominate your works.”

“If that is what you are searching for in my paintings, I am glad you found it. I am an artist, not a writer. My paintings express all my thoughts. It is an insult to ask an artist to verbalize about his work. It is what it appears to be to the viewer and no more. Words are unimportant and meaningless to me as an artist. My tools are canvas and paint.”

He brought me back to a vast space with a huge skylight, his studio where the walls were lined with paintings in process. I was surprised that he worked on so many canvases at a time and struck by the dark deep monotones. Very solemn, almost gloomy they were not like the glow of the red, orange, yellow canvas at the Museum of Modern Art.

I felt at peace with the art, quiet and meditative. He lived with his art. He was a real artist.

Mark Rothko said, “It is important to the human spirit to create art, to experience art, to be open to art. It allows the exultation of the heart and spirit.” I didn’t imagine that the meeting with him would have such power and influence in my choosing a life path. Less than a decade later I would be working in art museums as an educator, sharing in the transformative power of art. Then years later I would embark on another journey as a full time artist making work and encouraging others to interact with my art and “complete the picture”.

Bonnie, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

I am a multi-disciplinary artist which for me means that I embrace experimentation with many mediums, often having them work together to achieve the aesthetic, meaning and insight that I am trying to express. After having worked in Museums for years, I help people begin their collecting journey of having art in their lives, to learn more about how to see from different perspectives.
In my mixed media paintings I often use layers of acrylic paint, oil stick, mica, alcohol ink and other materials to express a feeling or intention. I allow the materials to guide me. Sometimes photography enters into the conversation. My photography uses multiple imagery constructing worlds that do not exist except in my imagination. My imagery often juxtaposes the built environment with flora that tells a different story than what is “real”. Nature and the notion of place either real or imagined plays an influential role in all my expressions. I am honored to be a recipient of an artist immersion residency in Argentina at Iguazu Falls. I know my work will respond to this amazing opportunity and dramatic environment, one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

Recently, I created a line of wearable art which includes kimonos, scrunchies, pouches, scarves and totes to allow people to experience my work in another way. They have become quite popular, and it gives me and others joy to experience my work in other forms.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

Being an artist is a journey and adventure of self-discovery and expression. It has the discipline requirements of all endeavors. It is a practice which requires time and attention, learning the materials and the challenge of expressing your intention through a nonverbal form. It is my form of meditation and channeling otherness where I try to keep the beginners mind to look at the world with fresh perspective. I enjoy sharing this with others’ and bringing creativity into others lives. My studio at the Arts Warehouse in Delray Beach Florida is open to the public and offers me the opportunity to interact with diverse audiences and help people engage with a work of art .

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

Create affordable studio spaces, co-working environments, and bring strong arts education programs back into the schools, Create more opportunities for artists outside of just gallery representation. Encourage people to realize they can own original art and support their local artists and enrich their lives through knowing the artists. Have communities realize that supporting the arts through tax incentives, arts funding creates a more vibrant culture and positively influences tourism and property values.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.bonnielevinson.com
• Instagram: @bonnielevinsonarts
• Facebook: BonLevinson
• Linkedin: Bonnie Levinson
• Other: TikTok
  bonnielevinsonarts
  I just started posting UTube. Will supply info ASAP.

Image Credits

Bonnie Levinson