Gwen Jones in conversation with Milton Katselas

MY STYLE

Los Angeles Herald Examiner

Section C/Page 1

Monday June 25 1984

Milton Katselas has made a name for himself directing plays and films, as well as teaching acting to stars like Richard Dreyfuss, Joanna Cassidy, Trish Van Devere, Marian Mercer, Tom Selleck and Cheryl Ladd. Under his direction, Blythe Danner picked up a Tony for “ Butterflies Are Free,” Eileen Heckart won an Oscar for the movie version and Bette Davis won an Emmy for “Strangers.” He also directed George C. Scott, Gene Hackman, Al Pacino, Jessica Tandy, Gloria Swanson, Karen Black, Shelley Winters and Jose Ferrer.

What is not widely known; however is that Katselas is an accomplished artist who has sketched, painted and constructed collages for most of his 23 year career. A dominant theme in his work is the struggle for romance and humanity in a sterile, inhumane world.

Kateselas was born in Pittsburgh, Feb. 22, 1933. He was educated at Carnegie- Melon University, where he was initially exposed to art. His first wife, a painter, also encouraged his interest.

For the interview, at the Fine arts service Complex in Hollywood where his art work is on exhibit, Katselas wore his favorite beige safari jacket and white jeans.

GWEN JONES: Although you’re better known as a theatrical and film director, and as an acting instructor, you’ve been a painter for many years. Why did you wait until now to do your first major West Coast showing?

MILTON KATSELAS: Well, what happened was that I had some of my work at my studio. For the first time, I invited friends – Shelly Smith, Chris Dickinson, Joe Santos, Bruce Bishop, - and students to come see it unframed. They encouraged me to do a show. I felt that showing my art was one of the best ways I could communicate. Initially I procrastinated, but then when the first painting was framed, I realized I had to do a show. Also, when I teach acting, I tell my students to put themselves on the line. When I direct actors, I tell them to take a risk. How can I expect others to reach out, if I don’t do it myself?

G.J.: What influences your art work?

M.K.: I get hit by stuff in magazines. Even though television is a big part of our lives, I still feel that magazines are highly influential. The still images in magazines inspire me. I feel that my work reflects the harsh realities of the world. I’m moved by street people, bums, bag ladies, their costumes and their objects.

G.J.: Conflict seems to be a recurrent theme in your art.

M.K.: I would say so. The juxtaposition of things is something that always interested me. That’s part of the reason that I’m interested in collages. I can remember when Pucci came out with his colorful ties. I used to wear them with jeans. I just love that combination.

G.J.: I noticed you frequently use sheet rock as your canvas. Is that because of the realism?

M.K.: The realism and the sense of anti-art. Yet making something anti-art is very artistic. To me anti-art is something that is not pretty in the traditional sense. From a technical standpoint, sheetrock is an excellent surface to adhere for collages.

G.J.: Is it true you never studied art formally?

M.K.: That’s true. However, at Carnegie Tech I was in school where we were all in the same building. Painters, sculptors, musicians. We were exposed to each other. My first wife was a painter. My brother was an architect and a painter. Back in 65’ I saw an art exhibit and said to my wife, “I can do that.” I went home and painted for 72 hours. Eight months later, I entered the Emily Lowe competition. And I won.

Maybe if that hadn’t happened, I would have studied more. But once that happened, I just kept going.

G.J.: Given your busy schedule, when do you find time to paint?

M.K.: I paint at night. I have a little place in my home. I paint at the art studio in the afternoons. There are no telephones to interrupt me. I paint very intensely. I work on seven paintings at one time. I have a lot of energy.

G.J.: It sounds as if painting is therapeutic for you. Is it a form of escape?

M.K.: In a way, it is an escape. I love to direct and teach acting…you’re working with other people. With art, it’s more personal and individual. There’s no committee. In a way, making art is a more intimate experience. I can do anything I want to do.

G.J.: When you grew up in Pittsburgh, your family owned a pool hall and a movie theater. How did hanging out in a pool hall prepare you for life?

M.K.: There are some good things and there are some bad things. There’s a certain coolness and suspicion, in the street sense that you develop. I read recently that (Elia) Kazan was 50 years old when he finally felt free to talk to people. In the pool hall, you’re always watching yourself, what you’re going to say, what you’re going to reveal. That aspect I’m not thrilled about. The aspects of real characters, real things were happening, what people were really about, problems with their families, the need for money, the description of their lives. I guess that I realized then that life is what art is made of. I guess that’s another reason why I work with sheet rock. It’s life, a building material.

G.J.: Do you have a preference for this form of art of the theatrical?

M.K.: Not at all. I love to teach. I’ve been teaching 25 years. When I’m directing I’m teaching. Between 1960 and ’72, I figure I did something like 32 plays, yet during that time I was painting like crazy. I’ve done four or five projects from

’78 to the present time. I’m still painting. I love the combination of doing both.

G.J.: Did you sketch during the period you were working on “Private Lives”? (The revival of the Noel Coward play staring Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, was a critical bomb. Unhappy with Katselas’s direction, Taylor had replaced him with Lou Antonio)

M.K.: No (Howls with laughter.) I was sharpening my machete. (Laughs.) Only kidding. Actually, I did sketch a little.

G.J.: What did you learn from your experience working with Taylor and Burton?

M.K.: I’m very funny about those things. The way I look at what occurred is that there are happy families and there are unhappy families. Happy families are usually very successful. With “Private Lives” we weren’t particularly successful. Nonetheless, right or wrong or indifferent, it was family. I really have made a policy

Not to talk about family matters. If I told what I learned, I would have to violate certain things about that family. I just don’t want to do that. Those people are artisst. Who knows? In this world you could find yourselves thrown together again. It’s an ethic of mine, one that I teach.

G.J.: I take it you are protective of your real life families as well.

M.K. I am. There are artistic families, business families, and natural families. In a funny kind of way, you and I for this moment are dependent on each other. There’s a kind of family unit here. So there are families for a brief duration and more extended ones. Growing up, I had a rocky family in a certain way. Then it was beautiful in other ways- the picnics, vacations, wonderful Sunday afternoons. Church (Greek Orthodox) was very important to us.

G.J.: Is religion still an important part of your life?

M.K.: I was going to be a priest at one time. I’m no longer formally religious. There’s certain spirituality in Christ that he’s been able to portray over the centuries. That fascinates me.

G.J.: That’s indicated in religious icons in your artwork. I also see a number of political images coming through. What are your politics?

M.K.: Do you mean with what party I’m registered?

G.J: I mean beyond party affiliation.

M.K.: I consider myself a humanist. Let me tell you, prejudice of any kind is something I cannot bear. I’m not perfect, but I try not to prejudge people.

G.J.: Would you say this sensitivity to your fellow man is something you’re trying to convey through your art?

M.K.: To a degree. My art shows the conflict, the struggle between spirituality and machine-like living. Where people care and support each other or where people are cold and indifferent to each other. That’s what the game of life is all about. Can we be spiritual in this kind of world?

G.J: Can we?

M.K.: I think so.