The Art World’s Mystic Outsider: An Interview With Hunt Slonem

With 2024 year-end best-of lists fresh in our minds, the contemporary art world is already looking ahead to what’s next. Which artists had a breakout year, and who will keep the momentum going in 2025? Which rising stars should art collectors, curators and patrons keep an eye on this year? What trends and movements will capture the public imagination, and which will recede into the background? Amid the excitement surrounding emerging talent, it’s easy to get swept up in the relentless churn of the market. But as we enter a new cycle of gallery openings, buzzy installations, and splashy write-ups, let’s take a moment to celebrate those who have long defined the American cultural landscape. One such figure who deserves his flowers is Hunt Slonem, the art world’s mystic outsider.

Slonem’s career began in New York in the 1970s, where he crossed paths with icons like Andy Warhol and hobnobbed with socialites, artists and outcasts. From the beginning, his work has been marked by a fascination with the natural world. Best known for his vibrant Neo-Expressionist style, Slonem’s paintings tend to feature a few signature motifs: bunnies, birds and butterflies. These images fill the walls of his Manhattan studio, a wild space filled with his beloved pet birds and an extensive collection of curios, including marble busts of Marie Antoinette and vintage top hats.

While researching this piece, I repeatedly came across the word “exotica” in reference to Slonem’s singular style. Many writers have pointed to his time as an exchange student in Nicaragua, as well as his childhood years in Hawaii, Mexico and California, suggesting that these experiences left an indelible mark on him. Tropical themes and vibrant color schemes became hallmarks of his early work—a leitmotif he’s carried through for nearly 50 years. But I couldn’t help but wonder: Was it simply the exotic beauty of far-flung places that ignited his artistic project? Or was there something deeper at play?

I reached Mr. Slonem by phone on Christmas Eve. I asked him what inspires him—what keeps him painting. I expected a story about a trip to Tahiti or a sublime sunset from his youth, but his answer surprised me. “I think the underlying thing in my work is spirituality,” he said. “I don’t think that—I know it. And that’s really what it’s about.” I could feel the energy crackling through the phone as we discussed his deep and long-held interest in the metaphysical.

His work is often described as whimsical or childlike, labels I was curious to discuss. I wanted to understand how he interprets the idea of ‘childlike’ in relation to his art. “It’s a natural state,” he told me. “It’s unspoiled by the forces of the world that are not innocent; you know, it’s a maintenance of a spiritual and original essence that has not been painted.” Rendered in bold, vivid colors and using a distinctive cross-hatching technique, Slonem’s paintings transcend easy categorization, fluidly shifting between abstraction and figuration. Like Warhol, Slonem often works in series, repeating familiar ideas and images. But while Warhol interrogated advertising and commercialism, Slonem’s focus is on the act of painting itself. His thick brushstrokes and textured canvases invite the viewer to consider the subject and the process of creation.

I was particularly intrigued by his process and workflow and asked if 2024 brought any new approaches or stylistic innovations. He paused for a moment before answering. “I can’t really tell you anything about new approaches—they just happen,” he said. “The way things evolve in my work is completely spontaneous. I have to decide what I’m going to paint each day to prepare it, but any kind of major change just comes out of the ether.”

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A prime example of a major change emanating out of the metaphysical realm is his signature cross-hatching technique, which was born purely out of chance. One year, early in his career, Slonem found himself seriously ill with pneumonia and unable to work with oil paints. He turned to watercolor and, in an act of experimentation, sharpened the back of his brush and began marking up the canvas. Looking at the birdcages in his studio, he simply wanted to express what he was seeing: the grids and lines of his studio space. That moment of chance gave birth to what is now one of his most recognizable stylistic features. I wondered if a painter who works in such a spontaneous way might frequently stop working on a composition and start something new and asked Slonem if he ever abandons a work in progress. He explained that time and mental distance can be an artist’s most vital tools: “I don’t really get what I’m doing until it dries and matures. And, you know, a lot of things I would’ve destroyed end up looking like the best I’ve ever done.”

Even his signature motifs emerged largely from the chaos of the creative process. Deeply interested in mysticism and metaphysics, Slonem told me about an early painting of the 16th- and 17th-century Peruvian saint Martín de Porres, said to have levitated to the top of a 22-foot cross every night for years. (de Porres wasn’t canonized until the 1960s when he became the patron saint of mixed-race peoples, racial harmony and animals.) Slonem explained how he painted de Porres surrounded by a wild menagerie of animals. There wasn’t much of a market for religious art of that ilk in the 1970s, so he discarded the saint but kept the animals—setting the tone for the next five decades of his career. But nothing is ever truly abandoned in the metaphysical oeuvre of Hunt Slonem. After all this time, the saints are marching once again, and these overtly mystical themes, which once fell by the wayside, are making a triumphant return, with a solo show of religious and mystical paintings at K Contemporary in Denver scheduled for the spring. “The revival of the saints is right at the forefront of my attention,” he said.

Last year was one of milestones for Slonem, as he cultivated his own sacred spaces. He realized a long-held dream with the unveiling of “Huntopia” at the San Antonio Botanical Garden—an ambitious exhibition of large-scale sculptures made from thousands of hand-cut glass pieces. Featuring his signature animal forms, “Huntopia” brought Slonem’s beloved motifs into the physical world, expanding his artistic vision and offering audiences a new way to experience the sanctity of nature. Alongside Huntopia, Slonem also found time to continue his project of restoring landmark homes in New York, Massachusetts and Louisiana—properties he’s acquired over the years that have become spaces for him to design and curate. These homes, he says, will be his legacy, and he hopes to eventually open them as museums where visitors can experience the totality of his mystical artistic vision.

I asked Mr. Slonem how he sees his place in the art world. “Well,” he told me, “I’ve never really thought about where I belong.” Perhaps that is one of the keys to his access. He doesn’t fixate on accolades or competition. He just rigs his canvas and gets to work. Slonem’s is a project of ambivalence—deep intentionality paired with improvisational expressive freedom—yet it resonates widely, and his work in the collections of more than eighty museums, including MoMA, the Guggenheim and the Whitney, and in the collections of celebrity art collectors like Jimmy Fallon, Sharon Stone and Cameron Diaz, among others.

Regardless of how others view his style or his stature in the art world, Mr. Slonem simply continues to do what he’s always done: paint. And he is showing no signs of letting up. A full slate of global exhibitions is scheduled for 2025, in locales as different as Palm Beach, Feldbergstraße in Germany and Turkey, solidifying his status as one of America’s most significant contemporary artists. “Huntopia” will travel to other venues, and his restoration projects will once again demand much of his time and attention. There is talk of a film in the works, and a large-format art book is set to be released.

When I remarked on how busy and exciting this all sounded, he said, “I haven’t had a dull year yet. Early on, it was hard to get anything to happen for me, but it never stopped me from believing.”