Mikael Takacs - The Interview
SR Your practice is rooted in marbling, an ancient technique that you have transformed into a distinctly contemporary visual language. How did you first encounter marbling, and what made you understand that this technique could become the foundation of your artistic practice?
MT I first encountered marbling in middle school, where we got to try paper marbling, where you make patterns of paint on the surface of water, and then dip a piece of paper to transfer the pattern.What I do now, many years later is very different. I skip the water part and make the image directly onto a canvas, where the paint can't float around as much, and I gain enough control so I can make the patterns take the form of a portrait.

SR Your works often reveal a fascinating contradiction: from close up, the viewer encounters extremely precise, almost abstract patterns, while from a distance those same patterns resolve into recognizable human figures and portraits. What interests you most in this movement between abstraction and figuration, and what do you hope happens in the viewer’s perception as they move closer to or further away from the work?
MT I like the contrast, and the idea that the painting can become two very different things depending on where you stand. At first when you see it from a distance you see a portrait that can appear almost a little blurry in a way. But then as you’re getting so close that your nose is almost touching the canvas, it turns into something completely abstract and much sharper and more detailed than how it looks from afar, and you might start questioning what you're even looking at.
SR There is a remarkable sense of movement throughout your paintings. The paint appears to be constantly flowing, stretching and transforming, while at the same time the final image remains incredibly controlled. How important is movement itself to your artistic language, and how do you balance control with the unpredictability of the material?
MT There are certain parts of the process that can be unpredictable. The paint moves, reacts and does things that you can't completely control. At the same time, I have to make very deliberate decisions in order to guide that movement toward the image I want. It used to be very challenging finding a balance between guiding the material and allowing it to do its own thing, but after a lot of trial and error it has become easier to direct the paint to do something very specific. There is a constant mix between intention and chance. I try to make very deliberate decisions, but the material also makes decisions of its own, and the final image comes from that interaction.

SR The repetition of lines, shapes and patterns is one of the most recognizable elements of your work. Rather than functioning simply as a decorative surface, this repetition seems to construct the image itself. What does repetition mean to you, and how do you decide when a composition has reached the point where nothing more should be changed?
MT The repetition is built into the technique. There is a rhythm to it and I like the almost meditative and obsessive quality that repetition can create. A single line may not seem very significant but when enough lines begin to interact, they can create movement and expression, and eventually a recognizable portrait.
I know many artists find it hard to know exactly when a painting is finished, "there’s always one more brush stroke you could do", but that has never been the case for me. When the final line is drawn, that’s it, there’s nothing else I can do. Hopefully it works, and if it doesn’t, I toss it.

SR Your process is particularly demanding because every gesture remains visible in the final painting, leaving very little room for correction. How does this influence the way you work in the studio? Is the possibility of making an irreversible gesture part of what attracts you to the technique?
MT In the beginning stages of a painting I can be more free, but towards the end it is very unforgiving and every move I make becomes part of the final image, so there is a certain commitment to each action. It definitely makes you think before you act. You can't just paint over something and pretend it didn't happen. It can be frustrating, but I think that also keeps the process exciting
SR Looking back at your career, you have exhibited internationally and worked with galleries including Corey Helford Gallery in Los Angeles, Galerie Wolfsen, Galleri Ramfjord, Galerie Sept and Krause Gallery in New York, where you have presented your work in both solo and group exhibitions. Was there a particular exhibition, gallery, artwork or moment that you felt represented a genuine turning point in your career or gave you the feeling that your artistic language had truly found its place?
MT I've been fortunate enough to have had a number of exhibitions and opportunities that have been very meaningful to me, but I can't really pin point a specific moment where things changed overnight. The exhibitions and gallery collaborations have obviously been very important because they have allowed the work to reach different audiences and contexts, but the real confirmation for me has been seeing how people respond to the paintings, telling me things about them that I never even thought of myself. I like that my paintings get to travel and exist independently, and have a life beyond the process of me making it.

SR Portraiture occupies an important position within your practice, from historical and cultural figures such as Van Gogh, Warhol, Michelangelo and Frida Kahlo to other recognizable characters and contemporary subjects. What continues to fascinate you about the portrait as a form, and what can distortion reveal about a person that a traditional representation might not?
MT Using distortion allows me to move away from the idea that a portrait has to be an exact representation of a person's physical appearance. We recognize people incredibly quickly, sometimes from just a few details. I can take something very familiar and make it slightly unfamiliar. With well known people, we already carry an image of them in our minds. You can still recognize the person, but you have to look at them a little differently.

SR After developing such a recognizable visual language, what still feels unresolved for you as an artist? Are there ideas, subjects or directions that you feel your current work is leading you toward, and is there something you still want your art to say that you have not yet been able to express?
MT I don't think the work has arrived at its final destination yet, and I'm kind of happy about that. I don't really have one big message going forward that I'm trying to communicate with my work. It's more about experimenting, seeing what happens and hopefully making something that some people find interesting. And if someone sees something in one of my paintings that I didn't intend or hadn't thought about myself, I actually think that's great. It means the work can have a life of its own. I don't know exactly where I'm headed, but I'm excited to find out.


@All images courtesy of Mikael Takacs.


