Frank Bowling: ‘Guiltiest pleasure? Sixteen-year-old whisky. My doctor says I shouldn’t’ | Frank Bowling

Born in British Guiana (now Guyana), Frank Bowling, 92, moved to the UK aged 19 and did national service in the RAF. In 1962, he graduated from the Royal College of Art with the silver medal for painting. He moved to New York in 1966, where he was awarded a Guggenheim fellowship, and exhibited his “map paintings” at the Whitney Museum in 1971. In 2005, he became the first black artist to be elected a Royal Academician, and Tate Britain staged a retrospective in 2019. His exhibition, Seeking the Sublime, is at the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, until January 2027. He lives in London with his wife.

When were you happiest?
Recently, as people began to understand what I am trying to do in my painting.

What is your greatest fear?
Being poor.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
The boozing. I started on rum as a child.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Trying to exercise authority over one.

What was your most embarrassing moment?
In the 1950s I went to the Chelsea Arts Club’s New Year’s Eve ball at the Royal Albert Hall dressed as a Christmas pudding, with swimming trunks under my costume and holly in my hair.

Describe yourself in three words
Needing order always.

What do you most dislike about your appearance?
I haven’t kept up with fashion. I think I dress well – corduroy trousers, colourful shirts and a hat – but it’s all traditional stuff. I envy my grandson’s bright yellow suit and colourful sneakers.

Would you choose fame or anonymity?
Fame. It is hard to be clothes-conscious and anonymous.

What is the worst thing anyone has said to you?
A fellow artist called me a flaneur!

If you could bring something extinct back to life, what would you choose?
Billy Eckstine singing Tenderly.

What did you want to be when you were growing up?
A detective. Or a writer. Or a poet.

What is your guiltiest pleasure?
Lagavulin 16-year-old whisky. My doctor says I shouldn’t.

What do you owe your parents?
My mother paid my first term’s fees at art school. I inherited her ambition.

What did you dream about last night?
Making a bigger picture. I see my paintings as competitive, so when Into the Blue [13 metres wide] was installed in a church, I immediately saw how I could make it bigger: by adding wings.

Which words do you most overuse?
The edge! I’m very concerned about the edges of my work and sometimes I can’t get my assistants to understand.

What is the worst job you’ve done?
Picking up RAF pilots’ parachute packs and gear they dropped off in a pile.

When did you last cry, and why?
In 2001, when my eldest son died.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Being able to paint the way I do.

What has been your closest brush with the law?
My father. He was a policeman who believed in corporal punishment.

What keeps you awake at night?
My work. What shape will it take?

How would you like to be remembered?
As a nice old man.

What is the most important lesson life has taught you?
Keep working, improving your step.

What happens when we die?
I hope I’ll find my mother and father in heaven. Only my father would probably say, “You can’t come and live here, boy!”