THE POPE OF EAST VILLAGE a 'Sit Down' with GREGORY de la HABA

“I first met the artist Gregory da la Haba during the opening reception of 60 Americans exhibition at the Elga Wimmer Gallery in New York City, winter of 2015. The work he exhibited was of a female nude lying despairingly, bound across a slab. Featuring Natalie White (the muse of the late photographer Peter Beard) as Agnus Dei (Lamb of God), the painting was a strong, figurative work in the classical tradition that piqued my interest in the painter behind it.  At the time, Gregory was publishing two art periodicals, curating shows, and hosting poetry readings in bars around the East Village. He also happens to own and operate the legendary McSorley’s Old Ale House on East 7th Street with his wife, Teresa. This was a bar I passed by nearly every day in my youth, and I remember the place being known as a ‘cop bar’. Gregory invited me to visit one afternoon and in between serving his customers we talked about art, life, writing, publishing, and all things creative. I remembered thinking–apart from how knowledgeable, intuitive, kind, and thoughtful he was–that there was something familiar and genuine about him. Like an old friend from my neighborhood on the Lower East Side. A ‘True New Yorker’ we’d say.”

It’s nearly ten years now since we first met and each year we stayed in touch, keeping one another in the loop. I consider myself fortunate to coexist in this world knowing people like Gregory de la Haba. When I reached out to ask about featuring him in Art Thug Magazine, he said: “Are you sure?” His reply wasn't out of self-doubt (believe me) but out of humility and consideration for others in need of some press coverage. Art Thug Magazine’s primary focus is to feature creatives who are deserving regardless of their background, ethnicity, or color. But that's what I love about this man, he puts others before himself. For this alone I'd feature de la Haba in Art Thug.  But then there's his art and his commitment to practice and in helping others in the community that truly fortified my decision to feature him.

TERRENCE SANDERS-SMITH –Tell us about where you grew up, your family, and your upbringing and how it influenced you as an artist.

GREGORY DE LA HABA – Simple. My parents were like Tony and Maria from West Side Story. Except my mother was the Jet (Pure Irish gang member during the 1950’s with scars on her face to prove it) and my father was the Shark: one hundred percent Puerto Rican. Growing up in Queens with such a dichotic background serves one well. For starters, you're as different as everybody else in the borough. And that mix of world culture and diversity keeps life interesting, awakens and stimulates the senses to different foods, languages, and traditions. And for an artist, such knowledge is vital.

TSS – Why did you choose to become an artist instead of some other, more easily sustainable profession?

GDLH – There was never another option in my thick head other than to be a fine artist. I was always drawing and making stuff. Always. And quite frankly, I didn't know what sustainable meant until it was already too late.

TSS – Did you attend art school? If yes, where? If no, why not? Hindsight being 20/20 do you feel an art education is necessary for the development of the artist and their practice?

GDLH - Yes, I attended Artes Plasticas in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico, one of the most beautiful places on earth. But beauty, while necessary, was less important at the time than learning the skills of the Old Masters. And Artes Plasticas, along with the Museum School in Boston which I attended afterwards, fell short on teaching the traditional fundamentals of picture-making of which I hungered.  But by chance and while in Boston, I found what I was looking for: an instructor who painted as well as an Old Master but better still: he taught his skills to others. I spent four years under his tutelage, learning to capture paint in the three-dimensional world, to create the illusion of the image appearing flat on the surface. But then one day you stand in front of a Rothko painting as a cocky young man, and everything turns to shit; the confidence gained in skill turned immediately to rage because everything I believed painting was, got thrown out the fucking window that day. How'd I never notice Rothko’s emotional gravitas before?  I hated the Abstract-Expressionists in my youth, hated them. But this depressed alcoholic who committed suicide changed my life as a painter for good.

At 27 years of age and from that moment on, I literally had to start over and adjust my course of action, my entire way of seeing, of expressing.  Hindsight’s value is that it allows you to see how truly unprepared you are for the thing’s life throws at you. So, embrace everything. And be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.

TSS – Your work appears to be very personal to your life experiences, and surroundings. What is your process in deciding what will be your next body of work? What about the moment translates to you that this will be an important work or series?

GDLH - The process is always about filling in a giant black hole that exists deep within (on the micro, and personal level) and to the emptiness that exists beyond the four walls of my studio (on the quantum and macro, art history, painting-narrative level). I attempt, as all painters do, to manifest what is non-existent in life’s ever-expanding picture. The fuel for the process stems from experience and my own first-hand, eye-witness accounts of living fully. So yeah, it's personal. When you spend ten years at the racetrack betting on the ponies your work will eventually have something to do with horses, gambling, loss, and addiction. No? But whether something is important is up for history to decide. My job is simply to believe and to execute. Period.

TSS – You are very supportive of the art community at large. What is the connective tissue between you and them? What drives you to be so supportive and generous?

GDLH – Gratitude. I get to wake up every day and not have a boss over my ass telling me what to do. The connective tissue is usually the artist’s perseverance and hunger for something unique. Creatives live in between the real world and the one they envision. And that space is like the Wild West but worse because the wounds and killings are usually self-inflicted. Most don't stand a chance.

TSS – What would your life resemble if you didn’t have the outlet to paint and collaborate with creatives?

GDLH - I'd go back to gambling full time and become a major art collector. It kills me seeing all the talent out there that can't make ends meet to keep going.

TSS – As we speak, you’re on your way to Cyprus for the Larnaca Biennale. What are the contributing factors to your success with foreign exhibitions and representation? How do you find these opportunities or how do they find you?

GDLH - Life, like the art world, is purely a numbers game. And you must see it that way. And numbers, keep in mind, have nothing to do with emotions. So, keep your fucking emotions to yourselves. The more art openings you attend, the more friends you have, the more emails you write, the more phone calls you make, the greater the odds will be in your favor for possibilities to expand on your horizon. Most artists fall short on the follow through and get upset if they don't hear back. Fuck that. Be a god-damn machine and keep pushing forward.

TSS – What are your thoughts that only 10% of educated artists with a degree can make a living off their work. The numbers for artists who are not art educated are even lower. Knowing that, why do so many artists continue with this arduous journey in hopes of discovery and recognition? 

GDLH –Why do you assume it's all about discovery and recognition? And what journey in life that's worth living isn't arduous? Fatherhood makes being a painter easy by comparison. And as far as all your percentages go – and stats on education – I say go attend a Gamblers Anonymous meeting. You’ll meet educated and smart people who’ve lost everything. Why? Their hopes were to beat the odds knowing that the odds were stacked against them in the first place. Some people are pre-programmed for ruin, and it usually takes total ruin to see the light.

Plus, if you're going into this art world for discovery and recognition, you're in the wrong game. Go play roulette, you’ll have better odds.

TSS – You lived and worked in New York for decades. In your opinion, how has the scene changed? And, if you could be a catalyst for change, what would you suggest we do to make the playing field more fair, honest, and accessible, especially for those artists who we might consider important and relevant? 

GDLH - What kind of utopian world are you imagining, homie? Fairness? Hah! Honesty? Yeah, right. And the only accessibility I care about is Handicap Accessibility. The simplest way (and most beneficial) to be a catalyst for positive change is to be kind. Then believe in your art and keep making it at all costs. Cormac McCarthy ate canned beans night after night as he was learning his craft and trying to write a book. He didn't go out and waste money and he sacrificed much to get where he got. There are no shortcuts to greatness. But in our constant, 24 hours, iPhone obsessed and Instagram/Social-Media addicted world, there are many posers in the field, hogging the spotlight and confusing young, inexperienced minds. But true greatness always finds the light. You must believe in that.

As far as the biggest change in New York’s art scene? It's larger. In fact, it's massive. There are galleries everywhere. In all five boroughs. Which takes us back to all things being a numbers game. More galleries equal better odds for artists.

TSS – It is no secret that the insanely wealthy, top-tier art dealers and hedge funds, and elite media intellectuals control the narrative and the business of art. Do you believe the system is rigged? For artists who are routinely and intentionally left out of this conversation how should they proceed with their practice knowing they don't meet the criteria for participation?

GDLH – What criteria are you talking about? Because in this age of internet access artists can find precisely whom to target. And let them, whoever they are, control whatever it is they wish to control. They don't control my habits each day. They don't dictate what color to use or size painting to work on. And sure, the system is rigged. If it wasn't, there'd be no money in it. Which brings me back to this: Are you an artist for the money and the fame and glory? If so, be an actor. But you better not be a cross-eyed one because I'm sure it will be a tough going for ya. You can't bitch about a class of people and then wish for a seat at their table.

Which brings me to this: After ‘gratitude’ which I mentioned above, artists need to have agency. Agency is precisely what artists are supposed to be, autonomous. In sociology, agency is the expression of autonomy from all social structures, institutions, cultural forces and the evil-rigging, boogeymen you mention above. Have agency, my friend. And fuck all if you're not invited to the party. You're not gonna like it anyway if you get invited. It's dull as shit.

TSS –Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to talk. The next time I’m in NYC I’ll stop by McSorley’s for my usual Liverwurst sandwich and some ale.

GDLH - You're very welcome, Terrence. It's an absolute pleasure watching you grow your publishing business. You, my friend, are the true catalyst for change. You're the light humanity needs. Ciao.

CONTACT: https://delahaba.com/