Toe-to-Toe with GREATBOXERS
George Spencer with a "Giant"In the heart of Crown Heights, Brooklyn, lies the home of GREATBOXERS. There, we met George, a New York born-and- raised artist, with over 3 decades of experience and 50+ exhibitions under his belt. He invited us to explore his world where art meets boxing.
Our visit to GREATBOXERS’ studio is part of a larger series from Eyes on Art titled “After the Storm.” Inspired by our latest show, “The Storms Inside," this initiative aims to shed light on artists' journeys, their studios, and their creative processes.
George holding his first boxerAs we entered the building, we were greeted by George, the corner man and confidant of GreatBoxers. Walking through the first floor vestibule, we were immersed in a world where jabs echo as brushstrokes and the scent of sweat was replaced by the heady fragrance of creativity (mostly woody scents, paper, old cardboard posters, acrylics, and oil aromas). In the hall, there were a couple of life-sized wooden fighter statues —remnants of past exhibitions— standing as silent sparring partners, a grand testament to the glory from the past. We entered on the second floor, where the brawling took place, and where we saw all of George’s fighters from wall to wall. We sat down and had a conversation with George.
Andrea Sofia: When did you start with the Boxer's series?
George Spence: 10 years ago, I came up with the name GREATBOXERS. I don't consider it; I am the GREATBOXERS. It is, in a sense, an unofficial corporation of my artwork. So my artwork is the GREATBOXERS. [During college], I was running around with some friends, and I had a camera. He was going to fight another guy over a girl. So we go to this house; he calls him out. And they start fighting, so I start filming it, and then I stop because my brain is going, "I don't have the permission to do this. And are they gonna turn on me because this is violence?" I'm like, "Violence just goes in crazy places." Emotions Are high. It's sort of boxing is a sense of there are no words left. We're gonna fight.
Then I just film some more, and then they finally end, we get in the car, and we go somewhere else. Unfortunately, that [video] got lost in a fire a few years after that, thank you so much for recording this, that now it still lives in a way.
AS: Yeah, that's so interesting.
GS: It was kind of the beginning. And I don't think I then ran home and started doing boxing paintings. There are a lot of things; it wasn't just that. My father was really the one that taught me how to draw. We lived in SoHo in the mid-70s, early 80s, and we would go to this [space], in this basement, they had this little stage and certain places where you put your pad and you do your drawing. It was sort of a thing that artists would come and do this. And I was the youngest person there.
AS: You went with your father, around what age?
GS: I was probably like 14 or 15. Yeah. It's like a very early exposure to art. There were people who were like well-known illustrators. They were basically going to just kind of hone their skills, or other artists that were just kind of like, you know, it was an exercise.
Untitled, Boxer #773AS: I'm assuming you went to art school, around the 90s or 80s, what was that like?
GS: I started SVA in the summer [1984]. I did the summer program, which was kind of great because it was a small group of us, and we got to know each other. But then, you know, the fall started, and one of the things I remember was being in these painting or drawing classes, and the walls are Keith Haring drawings, Kenny Scharf. I think there was even Basquiat as SAMO. Like, you're sitting there, and it's like all over the place. I had two years of a great experience of art school [1984-86], but I just really did feel like I just needed to move on. I have kind of been a bit of a rebel. I think part of it is coming out of New York City at a time when it was kinda like, kinda do whatever you want. Because nobody might try to stop you, I started writing graffiti in maybe 1978 or '79. I didn't go that far with it, but I think I learned a lot being an artist just from being within the graffiti community in New York City. 'Cause you gotta hustle, you're really bumping elbows with a lot of people.
AS: Trying to fight for space. When I look at your artwork, I see that it has a lot of looseness. I don't know if that's the right word, but that kind of in-the-moment sporadic decision-making of you against the painting. It seems to be very hands-on in-the-moment decisions, and I think that comes a little bit from graffiti now.
GS: The graffiti where you've gotta be — when you walk up to that wall or that subway cart — you gotta be ready, you have to have the white paint or the green paint, or whatever it is 'cause otherwise or you have to switch modes. Suddenly the white can doesn't work for some reason. Now you gotta rethink it. It's not coming back the next day.
AS: Walk me a little bit through the process. Do you really plan these ahead?
GS: It depends. It starts with how much space do I have. So when I'm traveling, and I'm in a hotel room, I love to set up like these; hotels typically have a little desk. I love to set up a little studio, and I always take photographs of like my little travel studio.
There's something about the scale [Larger pieces]. When I started doing them, I was like, what does this mean? And in a way, it's like my worry dolls, but they're bigger. Like, these are my protectors.
George Spencer with a "Giant"AS: That's so beautiful. I'm wondering what's been the relationship you've developed? What has gotten you to kind of seeing these boxers [artworks] as your protectors?
GS: I think it really just started with the big ones. I consider it as a mirror of myself. These are self-portraits; they're all self-portraits in a way because, and some people say all art is a self-portrait.
AS: Right, right.
GS: So the big ones, what can I say? They're giants. They're so big; they must be winners, but they're beat up. And that's sort of the dichotomy in my work that they're bloody but unbowed. So in a way, the work it's not misery in a sense. It's really sort of celebrating like, we're gonna be okay. We're still standing.
AS: How is the journey of being a full-time artist going?
GS: Yeah, it's tough, things come sporadically, and you just have to sort of work around it. You know, I found there are great groups that you can meet. Like, Local Project, great organization, very like, open. Then there's the opposite.
AS: Yeah, it's unfortunate.
GS: It's the higher, it's the pyramid basically, which is very similar to boxing. There's the one champion who holds the belt.
AS: How do you deal with the series becoming monotonous?
GS: I hit a wall at one point. Where I was like, "I can't do another one." And I was like, "Okay, I gotta find something else to do." So, I started making sculptures; they were very conceptual. But the problem was that, and I got some really good traction with it. I did one piece that was really complicated, had all these different aspects to it, and it was shown at the Rotunda Gallery, in Brooklyn, through BRIC Arts. And it had all these components to it. Time Out magazine gave me a whole page.
AS: Wow, that's great.
GS: But always staying true, like, I have rules. The boxer, they never fight. I don't do them fighting. It's about you looking at a boxer as though you are fighting him or her.
AS: It is a confrontation.
GS: A confrontation. It's just about that figure. The one-on-one. I think it's, for me, I'm fighting this person. Where I'm throwing the paint, in a way, at them. And I've actually kind of physically done that sometimes, where I'm just kind of at a space where I am kind of almost throwing them, hitting the brush at them. So it is, in a way, I am fighting.
AS: Fighting them. Fighting all of them. You've fought a lot of fights then.
GS: Yes. A thousand. But I never get hurt.
AS: You are the champion. Uplifting all the contenders.
GS: Yeah!
[ping, ping, ping]
George's artworks transcend the boundaries of boxing, capturing in his own ways the raw power and ethereal grace of the art of boxing. Every brushstroke became a punch, every canvas a ring where emotions and fury collided into a full series. As we left the studio, George and his boxers showed us a glimpse of what it feels to have fallen and gotten back up. This was such a unique journey that left us inspired, yearning for more, and eager to witness the next round in the evolving saga of George’s GREATBOXERS.
Check GREATBOXERS artworks on Eyes On Art, and follow George at @greatboxers for the latest whereabouts.
This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity, while preserving the original meaning and intent of the interviewee's statements. Please note that the editing is tailored for online presentation, enhancing readability and engagement.
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Andrea Sofia Matos is currently a graduate student in Visual Arts Administration program at New York University. She received her BA in Art History and Photography from Florida International University (2021). Born and raised in Bayamón, Puerto Rico she is a curator and arts administrator focused on art from the Caribbean, Puerto Rico and their diasporas. Most recently she curated “IN-ANIMADA” a solo exhibition at Galería SPACE in Guaynabo, PR by artist William Norris Pagán and was the curatorial assistant of the exhibition “Swagger & Tenderness: The South Bronx Portraits of John Ahearn and Rigoberto Torres” at the Bronx Museum of Art.
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