I'd love to be considered a post-pop artist, but I love to have five or six different styles in every painting, just for the pleasure of the eye.
Things are forgotten so fast today. Even if 1,000 people are slaughtered, the next day you forget. There has to be new news every day.
The collages I never wanted to sell. I thought it was a very private thing, so I kept the collages. Then, in the end, I had a big collage in the Pinault Collection in Venice and the director of the [Centre] Pompidou said, "Did you make big collages like this in the '60s?" I said yes, so he came to the studio and said, "Let's make an exhibition in the Pompidou."
I have been very lucky, I have won prizes and I've even won the lottery.
In the exhibition at Galerie Perrotin, they have the Sarajevo painting - I think it's very good to nail down this story of Pol Pot and other people, not all dictators but most of them.
[Some people] put their work on the internet and check every day how many people look, how many people made contact, but I don't have internet, I don't have a hand-phone, I don't have fax, I don't have email. I just have old-fashioned telephone and letters.
Every five, six, seven, eight, 10 years I do a raisonné. When it's printed in the book, it's finished.
I work on a political subject quite often, and the paintings, for me, are not finished until they're printed.
There was so much going on. I remember a very interesting dinner in the studio of [Robert] Rauschenberg. He had convinced Sidney Janis, Leo Castelli, and a third big gallery man to serve us, the artists, at the table. So they were dressed up as waiters, we were sitting at the table, and they were only allowed to sit down at the end of the table for the cognac. This is not possible now.
I lived on Fulton Street in an enormous studio - I needed a bicycle to get to the toilet, about half a mile between two streets - next to Wall Street.
I have very warm memories about New York, about the old times, mostly the '60s.
