Art making is often a solitary business. In fact, many choose to become artists precisely because they enjoy working alone. That is true for painter Chuck Close. In a 2007 television interview with Charlie Rose, Close described the working methods that have allowed him to continue to paint with minimal assistance from others after a spinal artery collapse in 1988 left him paralyzed from the neck down. After a brief period when he thought he would never paint again, physical therapy helped Close regain the use of his arms and hands, but he no longer enjoyed the same freedom of mobility. Close is known internationally for his enormous, nine-foot portraits of human faces—often of personal friends—on canvas. Prior to becoming paralyzed the artist painted with the help of a forklift truck. As a result of his impairment, however, he needed a new working method. Maintaining Independence and solitude were primary goals. “You become an artist because you wanted to be in a room by yourself,” he says. “And all of sudden you’re handicapped and you need help. Well, you want to make it as much like it used to be as you can…” Close’s solution has been to work in a two-story studio where he can move his paintings vertically through a hole in the floor.
Though Close enjoys the seclusion of the art-making process and tries to work unassisted as much as possible, his paintings express the personal connections he shares with other human beings. Close was born with Prosopagnosia, the inability to recognize faces. He has said that the disorder is part of what motivates him to paint enormous portraits of friends and family members’ faces. Through his paintings he hopes to etch the details of people’s faces onto his memory so that when he meets with them again “face-to-face,” he will know them more deeply.
Close’s work reminds us that regardless of how it gets made, all art is done in the context of the community in which it is made. Art—whether it is painting, music, poetry, or dance—speaks through self-expression and shared transcendence. It is a byproduct of human relationship.

Thank you for posting this, Dylan. Chuck Close is one of my favorite visual artists, and I find his unwavering commitment to creating his work despite physical barriers utterly inspiring. Your post reminded me of Henri Matisse, who also need to invent a different approach later in life, when his hands were so arthritic he could no longer hold a paintbrush. Or Homer Avila, a dancer who continued to perform and choreograph after losing his leg to cancer. Or photographer John Dugdale, who says that his “style has changed” from his early work, before his blindness. “My photographic vision is clearer now.” These and many others inspire me, and remind me that no obstacle in life or in art is truly insurmountable.
Brendan McCall
Visiting Assistant Professor
Bilkent University, Turkey
Founding Artistic Director
Ensemble Free Theater Norway