Los Angeles-based artist Robert Williams – whose epic, cartoon-inspired history paintings draw deeply from American vernacular culture and its visual slang, using concrete, relatable, and often absurd imagery to deliver sharp social commentary – and who was a founding contributor to the underground ZAP Comix as well as the founder of Juxtapoz Art & Culture Magazine, all while producing his own caustic and unapologetic works – plumbs his own psychological depths only to discover what makes him love work and life.
What historical art figure would you like to have lunch with and why? Théodore Géricault, the painter of The Raft of the Medusa, because I’d like to discuss technique with him and all the trouble he puts into his paintings.
What did you purchase with the proceeds from your first sale? Food and rent. I was kind of destitute in Hollywood when I made my first sale.
What words or phrases do you overuse? I have a lack of control for profanity that I’m trying to curb. I’m a real trashmouth, so I try to police myself a little bit. It would either be scatological or sexual or inflammatory remarks about our lord and savior and god.
Robert Williams, Auditory Sadism, 2013, oil on canvas, 16×12 inches, 30×26 inches framed, courtesy of the artist
How do you know when a work is finished? It exhausts me to work on it anymore.
When and where were you happiest? I think probably when I look back on it, when me and Suzanne lived in Hollywood and I started making good money. We were in our early-to- mid-20s [and] I’m happy right now. But as a young person to experience joy, that’s about when it started – 1967-68, around in that area.
What is your most treasured possession? I’m sitting on so much junk right now. I’ll tell you something – I just got a 1911 Model T Torpedo Runabout that’s been restored. That’s just made me proud as hell. It was Ford’s first attempt at a sports car in 1911, and it’s really a great looking little car. It’s not running right now. It’s been completely restored and I haven’t started it up.
Robert Williams, Pathos in Paper-Mache, 2012, oil on canvas, 66×72 inches, 90×96 inches framed, courtesy of the artist
Where is your ideal escape destination? My wife has a 1913 Model T that we drive around once in a while. I’m sitting in my library and I don’t think there’s another place on earth me and Suzanne would rather be. I’ve been around the world and I’m always happy to get home. It might be some fantasy places in my mind, but this is where I’m happy and I’m safest. We moved out here in Chatsworth, and have a pretty nice home. Things are looking good for me.
Robert Williams, Private Glory, 2007, oil on canvas, 12×16 inches, 26×30 inches framed, courtesy of the artist
What’s the worst survival job you’ve ever had? There are so many of them. I used to be a truck driver, a forklift operator, a short order cook, a ditch digger. I built adobe houses. There were a ton of things that I hated. And I worked at a carnival in New Mexico and Colorado and Arizona. I was a concessionaire at the age of 15 or 16. I worked the games that you picked out stuff.
What TV series from your youth best describes your approach to life? At a young age, a very young age, I realized sit coms on TV were fucking stupid. There were things like the Daniel Boone show that kind of helped my interest, Have Gun – Will Travel, boy things like that. Sit-coms, I couldn’t handle those. I hated canned laughter.
Robert Williams, The Clock Graveyard, 2024, oil on canvas, 20×24 inches, 34×38 inches framed, courtesy of the artist
If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? To be able to not be paranoic and compulsive.
What is your most treasured memory? Back again to the 60s, when me and Susanne were young and got married. We both worked at [Big Daddy] Roth Studios. I made really good money for the first time in my life. I was the art director. It was a hub and magnet for celebrities and interesting people. Criminals and the FBI, all kinds of people came into Roth Studios. I got to observe this social situation that the average person would probably have never seen.
What makes you smile? Ask my friends about Ed Roth. He was like a hotrod Salvador Dali. He had pitfall humor; it was like watching someone fall down. I like it in reality. Comedy sometimes makes me happy, but I like it more candid. Contrived humor sometimes lights me up, but when it’s impromptu, it’s more enjoyable. I’ve gotten old now and I fall down all the time. I have to tell people that I’m doing my geriatric breakdancing.
Robert Williams, Justifiable Concern, 2020, oil on canvas, 30×36 inches, 54×60 inches framed, courtesy of the artist
What makes you cry? The passing of relatives and good friends.
What is your go-to drink when you toast to a sale? I quit drinking booze a while back. A Dr. Pepper makes me happy. I like to hang onto the few marbles I got.
After an all-nighter, what’s your breakfast of champions? Well, if I’m out, I like sausage and bacon, pancakes and what not – stuff like that. Stuff that’s bad for me that I try to stay away from. All the bad stuff. Chicken fried steak. Dupar’s.
Who inspires you? It wouldn’t be one person; it’d be a group of people in a situation that inspires me. I like people that champion imagination and freedom, hard work, stuff like that. I find a little bit of that in different people, so pinpointing it would be kind of hard.
What’s your best quality? I guess tenacity and work ethic.
Robert Williams, Heralding the Entry of King Infinitus, 2021, oil on canvas, 30×36 in, 54×60 in framed, courtesy of the artist
What’s your biggest flaw? Kind of being selfish; heliocentric, the sun is the center; an ego that’s sometimes not pleasant to other people.
What is your current state of mind? I’m an old man going through my little problems and worrying about things. I got this show. I got a whole bunch of things I have to deal with. Large sculptures I have to ship out. Dealing with people that won’t cheat me.
What do you consider your greatest achievement? My greatest achievement is the fact that despite my years in art school of being under the pressure of abstract expressionism, I have turned that back and have created a new world of realistic paintings and I’m recognized the world over for it. It shows a lack of modesty, but you asked the question; It’s the way I see it.
If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what would it be? If I died and I came back, I’d like to come back as me so I could correct all my mistakes [and] take advantage of knowing the hard knocks for a second time.
Cover image courtesy of the artist. Robert Williams: Fearless Depictions, is at the Long Beach Museum of Art, February 6 – May 31, 2026. Visit the artist at his website.
