Meet the Artist: Larry Bell
In a career that spans over 50 years, artist Larry Bell has had his work featured all over the world, including at the Langham Place in Mong Kok. This autumn, he is showcasing some of his recent works in Hong Kong. He speaks to Laura Chan about his work and his impressions of the city.
Over the years, Larry Bell has taken on all kinds of creative endeavors, from abstract paintings to sculptures to experimentation with thin film deposition. You may have seen his "Happy Man" sculpture outside Langham Place in Mong Kok—or maybe you've seen his likeness on the album cover of The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. He has been hard at work in his US studio in New Mexico, and is coming to Hong Kong this fall to exhibit his more recent creations as part of White Cube's "Light and Red" exhibit, through November 15.
HK: Last time you were in Hong Kong, in 2004, you unveiled your sculpture outside Langham Place. How did that feel?
Larry Bell: I was thrilled. When I came, a year or so before to look at the site, it was so hard to tell what kind of a space it was to sit in; it was all big building equipment, cranes and half-built foundations. But all around, the place was so full of people. I thought [that] it was a great high-visibility site. The big pieces I’ve done have are mostly in sheltered places, like businesses and schools, but this was in front of everybody.
HK: Do you think Hong Kong has changed since then?
LB: Last time I came, I spent all my time in Kowloon. Over there, it has really changed. There are so many big buildings that have popped up over the last 10 years.
HK: Do you prefer sticking around the studio, or traveling for exhibits?
LB: Making is the most fun. It’s great fun to come to a place like [Hong Kong], with great people, and such incredible food. But in the studio, I’m not a tourist: it’s my scene and it’s what I do. The studio is a special place to be, whether I am working on something, or waiting for a muse to kick me out of the chair to work.
HK: Your career spans over 50 years. What has changed about the art world since the 60s and 70s?
LB: When I started, contemporary art had no audience. There was a giant argument going on [as to] whether anyone had the right to paint abstractly without knowing how to paint the figure. Somehow non-objective or abstract work was less credible than figurative work. But then, if there’s an audience who wants stuff, and there’s some suggestion that it has some value—financial value—the audience grows. It’s not the history of art that establishes the value of work, it’s the perversity of merchandising. It has nothing to do with art. Art is probably something that only artists experience in their studio when they’re working.
HK: What are you most proud of?
LB: That I made it 54 years; I’m celebrating my 54th year of unemployment. There have been good times and rough times, but I’m still hanging on. If the whole thing falls apart tomorrow—I still did all of that.
HK: How did you get on the cover of the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album?
LB: I don’t really know… but I know this much: I had a show in London around 1964 or '65, in a gallery of a guy named Robert Fraser. He was really close with a lot of music people, who would go to all his art shows. So I think one of the Beatles saw my show, because, as I understand, the people on the cover were chosen by the musicians; one of them must have said to put me on it. One day I got a letter from the music publisher asking to use my picture, which was actually taken by Dennis Hopper on Venice Beach. But I had no idea it would become an icon like that. That’s all I know about it; I virtually had nothing to do with it.
