Miles Davis and Polka-Dot Elephants:
An Interview with William Y. Cooper
Bill Cooper has been a resident of Buffalo Arts Studio for almost twenty years; when he first
came to Buffalo in 1954, he was already painting. Mr. Cooper would be able to thrive anywhere, as long
as he had his three artistic loves: his painting, his writing, and his music. From drawing superheroes as a
boy to writing his second novel, Mr. Cooper is always happily practicing - "because I live in my mind, I am
at home where my mind is."

Can you remember one of the first things you ever painted?
You don't want to hear about it. I'll give you some background: I lived in Birmingham, Alabama
in the projects, and I had never seen a real artist before. When I was seven or eight years old, an artist
moved into an apartment right across the street, and he would paint outside. I was so excited about him
being there - I was amazed by his paintings of people, and I wanted to do it, but I couldn't dream of
bothering him. He only stayed one month, but I knew I had to paint something, and in oils. I did chores
in the neighborhood - washed windows, cut grass, ran errands - until I had enough money to buy a small
oil paint set. Manna from Heaven. I didn't tell anyone about it, and I went into my big closet in my room,
because that became my studio.
My first painting, I'll tell you what it was: it was of a woman with a long neck and a wrap around
her head. I must have seen it in the movies, because there was no woman like that in my neighborhood,
and I didn't have a model. I painted it, and I looked, and thought about it, and decided, 'I will never show
this to anybody, ever.' So I tore it up, but couldn't get it out of my head. Sometime later, I copied a
painting by Winslow Homer, and my mother liked it. In her own way, she supported me - she framed it
and hung it in the living room. That was the first painting that sent me on the road to being an artist.

Name three artists you’d like to be compared to.
I don't want to be compared to any artist - I try very hard to be different, to be me. I've been
inspired by artists, but I want to be unique. Guess what inspires me? The music of Miles Davis and John
Coltrane. I can listen to music and see pictures in my head. The highs, the lows, the mellowness...they
create pictures. Miles Davis never plays the same phrase twice. If you listen intently, you'll expect him to
repeat a phrase, and then he tricks you and goes a different way - it's all about the composition. I'm a
stickler for composition: every stroke and color is thought out. There was a time when I was deathly
afraid of color, but I wanted to use it, so I studied and learned about it. I went to museums to study the
great painters like Cezanne and Renoir, and I noticed they all had their own technique and approach to
color.

What makes a good artist?
What makes you an artist is that you can paint things that you don't see in your natural world,
not just copying what you see. When I started out, I painted presidents and movie stars, but I wasn't
creative. I knew that there must be more than copying what you see, so I learned to see things through
my “inner eye.” I don't use props - these women you see on the wall, I made them up. They say what I
want them to say. I had a way of talking to the kids I taught, third and fourth graders, and I'd ask them
what it means to be creative. I'd tell them to close their eyes and picture an elephant. Is he big or small?
'Big!' What color is he? And inevitably, there would be one kid who would say 'gray?' and I'd say, 'No,
that's not your elephant. That's someone else's elephant. You decide what color your elephant is.'
Eventually, they'd picture all kinds of elephants, even polka-dot elephants floating on clouds. That's
creativity!
Miles Davis and Polka-Dot Elephants:
An Interview with William Y. Cooper

What risks have you taken and what sacrifices have you made?
Any risks I've made, I've made for my art. I don't know if I've made any sacrifices...no. I've taken
risks, but there hasn't been much that can deter me from painting. I had to leave home at seventeen - in
order to escape my stepfather, I had to run away to Buffalo with people I had never known before. My
grandmother knew some people who were going to Buffalo, so I asked her if it would be alright to ask
them for a ride. There were no jobs in Birmingham, and I wanted to go to college, but I had no money,
so I went to the man of the crew - Uncle Will - and he said there were jobs in Buffalo at Bethlehem Steel.
My grandmother stuck a twenty dollar bill in my shirt pocket, and I ended up in Lackawanna - I thought I
was in Buffalo! So I stayed with those people for a while, and after nine months I came over to Buffalo.
I’m always doing my work. In spite of everything, I'll be painting until they throw the last shovel of dirt
in my face, and even then I'll probably say, 'Hey, get this dirt off me, I want to paint!'

How do you view Buffalo as an artist and resident?
I think Buffalo is a good place for artists. It's not an ideal for all people; there are people who
say, 'you could sell your paintings in New York for blah, blah, blah.' It's kind of a compliment, but there
are eons of artists in New York, and you've got to compete. I'm actually happy I'm in Buffalo - it's an arts
city. We've had the image of steel mills, but we're not that now. There are many outlets for the arts and
entertainment if a person is willing to do what is necessary to move along in their craft. My thing is, in
order to become successful, it depends on you. I could go to Arkansas - I say Arkansas because I've never
been there - and I could do well. It's important to stay in one place if you want to make a name for
yourself. You could be a great artist, but if people don't know you, you won't show up in their minds as
a choice. You've got to establish yourself.