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Remembering Graham Nickson
April 2, 2025 · News
The New York Studio School mourns the passing of our very own Graham Nickson (August 30, 1946 – January 28, 2025). We remain forever grateful for Graham’s elevating presence, oceanic knowledge, and profound generosity of spirit. Here we publish remembrances and stories of Graham submitted by the NYSS community. Click here to submit your memories.
The New York Studio School is where drawing, painting and sculpture are studied in depth, debated energetically and created with passion. Our goal for young artists is for them to find their own personal vision through the investigation of art and the visual world around us. Abstraction and figuration rub shoulders and often interchange. Perceptual deeds and conceptual ideas cohabit. We encourage the development of that unique vision pushed to an extreme, found slowly and without guile.
In order to assist in the making of art, the School endeavors to make readable the ‘language’ of art from the far past to the recent present. Knowledge of that language, when attained, gives the artist the ability to use it, transform it, reject or discard it, or re-invent it at will.
We believe in the power of the simplest means, and its ability to contain and convey the most profound and complex ideas, feelings and meanings. Our enthusiasm for paint, charcoal, clay and wood connects us with the synergies of the first shaman who crushed berries into pigment, the first painter who used oil on canvas, the first sculptor who molded clay into the human form. Firm believers in the uniqueness of our own contemporary time, we also research the complexities of our own century’s discoveries. Though we celebrate painting and sculpture, we are not nostalgic for the past. Powerful expressions will find their own conduits.
We strongly believe in drawing. It is the most direct means of describing an experience or an idea. Drawing is the most crucial pathway to understanding in art, and is the common bond between the disciplines of painting and sculpture. There are few places where drawing is so intensely investigated.
It is during their time at the School that we believe a student develops the ethics, philosophy and work habits that continue into later life as an artist. We expect our students to discover that the dedication of the artist is a lifetime’s commitment. Significant knowledge gained early on and absorbed can be used over a lifespan. The humility to learn, coupled with an ambition to make compelling work are powerful attributes for the young artist.
The School is not for the faint-hearted. It is for the student with a deep involvement in the desire to be an artist, an intensity of temperament and vision, and an integrity of purpose. It is for those who like to work rigorously, think smart and keenly, and those who are prepared to look hard and long in order to see. A true student is always ‘looking’; a real artist begins to see.
We urge those students to apply who genuinely wish to learn and who are bold enough to take on the challenge of painting and sculpture in the twenty-first century. We offer the chance to translate the metamorphosis of life into art’s metaphor. The New York Studio School is a place where the power of images is still searched for, the philosophy of drawing still present, and the quest for tangible form still engaged. We believe in the strength of art and its ability to change one’s life.
– Graham Nickson, Dean Emeritus
Fortunate to study with Graham for 3 years
Studying with Graham was a special part of my education at NYSS. His incredible knowledge of artists, artworks, and art movements was unmatched. How excited he was to crit with our certificate cohort, most weeks he would stay on many hours past the end of class. He would linger over our art work, making connections between what we were doing and artists of the past. His assignments were among the most feared and celebrated by the students. He would remind us to research “those artists who influenced the artists we are influenced by” as we gathered our list of kindred spirits. In my last marathon I completed with Graham, “The Enigma of Color and the Shock of Sensation” he introduced us to over a dozen of his cherised limited palettes. We made work varying in scale from 4 inches by 4 inches to 6 feet by 8 feet. We completed ten transcriptions (six of them full size)and created 56 individual works of art. All in two weeks! Thanks for pushing me further than I would have pushed myself. My favorite memories were going with Graham to his studio in Long Island City and seeing his work at the William Louis Dreyfus Foundation.
— Catherine Bickford | Student
Rain Light
Rain Light
by W.S. Merwin, from The Shadow of Sirius, 2008
All day the stars watch from long ago
my mother said I am going now
when you are alone you will be all right
whether or not you know you will know
look at the old house in the dawn rain
all the flowers are forms of water
the sun reminds them through a white cloud
touches the patchwork spread on the hill
the wash colors of the afterlife
that lived there long before you were born
see how they wake without a question
even though the whole world is burning
— Frank B. | Student
“ I don’t do art, I live art.”
It wasn’t until Graham Nickson passed at the time I was beginning to put together a Retrospective Show that my understanding of the total New York Studio School experience became crystal clear. In retrospect, I believe Nickson was a man ahead of his time.
When I walked into the New York Studio School in 2008, I was 63- older than most of my classmates. I was a wife, a mom, a self-taught artist who taught art. Seventeen years later, at 80, I am still unpacking what the NYSS gave us: a way to communicate immediately and in depth through drawing, the language of art, and a philosophy for living art.
Graham Nickson was this force we all orbited around, whether we admitted It or not. Being older and lacking excellent drawing skills, I was placed in an Atelier that grouped us married women or newbies to art. My contact with Graham was limited. However, we had to pass through his office to get to the Whitney for critiques. Occasionally he would invite me to sit down and he would ask me about my work. Even though I was an unskilled artist, not quite “the best and the brightest,” he gave me
time.
The Whitney Critiques were always a highlight, a treat, a favored moment at the school. No one on earth could beat Graham at the art of the critique. Those sessions were pure gold. He used the story and construct of art to defy our ages and egos that gave way to wisdom.
He pointed out that drawing was more than lines on a paper. We always drew from life bringing to the paper or canvas a direct observed reaction of the experience that often says more than a thousand words. Even before memes became our cultural shorthand, the NYSS, under Graham’s guidance, was ahead of its time. A single image {or meme} could provoke thought, capture thrills and endure. His legacy reminds us that in every sketch lies a meme of the mind that is telling and timeless.
Once, Nickson declared drawing “as the most crucial pathway to understanding art,” a belief he installed in the legendary drawing Marathons he founded in 1988.
I had a funny experience with Graham during a Marathon exercise. On one occasion students got the material list at the same time… the rush was on! We all ran out of the school like a herd of animals to get the supplies. By the time I got to the art supply store, all the recommended green oil sticks were completely sold out. What was I to do? I bought what was left…..bright bright garish fluorescent green oil sticks!!!!
We were layering paper on top of paper using more our right brain and Intuition to keep changing the image. Graham came along, squinted at my work, and immediately said quite loudly so everyone could hear, “This is a MESS! Get rid of this NOW!” {Could be that my garish colors and my intuitive right brain mark making wasn’t to his liking?) He spoke so loudly…..I could have died! It was classic. Definitely a moment never forgotten!
Well, here I am… still a wife, a mother and a teacher of art who creates new creators! Graham is still speaking to me, I have hung Yookan’s painting of Graham where she captured that special glance of his with the tilt of his head and sparkle in his eyes in my studio. In gathering materials for my retrospective show, I came across a message from him that gives me sage advice. How I ignored this message I don’t know. Perhaps it is just in this moment of time that I am ready to receive it. Time will tell. Gratitude.
— Melany Terranova | Student
Graham Nickson Remembered
I first met Graham in the early 1990’s when he juried the first group of artists to get studio space in the World Trade Center. At one of the many meetings he introduced me to someone who asked if I was also an artist. I replied sheepishly I was an “amateur artist”. But I added that the word amateur comes from the Latin for love. At that Graham spoke up and said that he was also an amateur. It was a charming and reassuring moment that set the tone for all our subsequent involvement: managing and promoting the WTC program, printing his catalogues, becoming his student and managing an artist program on Governors Island.
Always with and for the love of the creative process.
— Carl Scorza | Friend, student and admirer
May you keep on painting in the heavens and teach the angels along the way…
I had the great honor of working under Dean Nickson as his Director of Student Services many years ago. In addition to a love for art and artmaking, we shared a passion for educating and supporting our students and improving NYSS however we can. Through our respective roles, we and served so many passionate working and aspiring artists – him as the dean and professor and me as an administrator. He was like no other dean I had ever worked for. Graham made the school feel like home for all his students, colleagues, and employees. Even after I moved on from the school amny years ago, he made me feel welcome and had time to chat whenever I came to visit. Among the many things I appreciated most about him was his dedication to the students, keeping the school focused on its mission, his compassion for his students and their unique needs and circumstances, his love of teaching and engaging students, and his philosophy of “creating art for the sake of creating art.” From my talks with students, he was the largest reason students came from across the country and around the world to study at NYSS. Your example inspired me to further my career and graduate studies in educational leadership to better serve students – and occasionally take out my sketchbooks. Though his physical presence will sorely missed, but his art and teachings will live on through his work, his students, and his teachings. Thank you for all you have done for us, Graham. May God keep your soul and may you keep on painting in the heavens and teach the angels along the way.
— Dr. John-Breshaire Georges | Former NYSS Director of Student Services
Of Rites and Rituals
Exhibition installation was a facet of Graham’s pedagogy for whom few were privy. So I count myself among the privileged with a from-behind-the-scenes view as the school’s exhibitions coordinator in the 1990s.
Graham worked his magic while the rest of us stood silent, but at the ready, with our hammers and nails, tape measures and levels. In just a short time, things would start to take shape as he had us block out the room. It got pretty loud behind that closed door, as if we were on a party line. But it wasn’t us talking, it was the paintings. Our job was to listen.
Just when you thought you had it down, you knew the gallery well enough to say “this goes here, that goes there,” the Master of Unpredictable Arrangements would come and mix it all up! Graham didn’t work so much by trial and error, or improvisation. He seemed to get it right from the start. Creative “play” for him; work for us. Demanding, yes–of our strength and tenacity, but most of all, our vision. He demanded we not just look, but see.
My favorite times came at the end of these remarkable rituals, possibly reenactments, when the last piece was off the floor and on the wall. Only then was the world righted. Everything had a place, and everyone belonged.
Like other missionaries, I too, took Graham’s teachings into the world, into my “wilderness” of inpatient psychiatry where I have worked as an art therapist all these years. …It doesn’t just please patients to see their works displayed. Exhibitions, even small ones, confer cohesion and organization; and often revelatory to both the viewer and the viewed.
Graham often spoke of “connections.” He helped us all see and connect, the part to the whole and the whole to the part(s).
As teacher and curator, Graham led a double life; he leaves a double legacy.
— Cindy Schwab, artist/art therapist resides now in Pittsburgh, PA. | Exhibitions Coordinator, NYSS Gallery, 1990s
Thank you Graham
Graham taught me that you can still make art in contemporary times without feigning amnesia; without the bravado of pretending that your art springs from some innate genius rather than the deep well of human invention to which each is granted access. How comforting to know that artists are linked through centuries of seeking imagery resonating with their times. How inspiring to understand that genius with no name, recognition, or price tag attached to it, will ultimately take it’s place among works that awe for no reason that anyone has been able to predetermine.
I met Graham through a virtual marathon in 2020. Nothing prepared me for the series of exercises that he gave over four years of classes. Nothing prepared me for the access that I gained to so much knowledge or the level of concentration that I would develop for just looking. I’m grateful for his maddening propensity for assigning individual exercises when he thought it would propel a breakthrough, even though the workload seemed impossible. And, it’s likely that only Graham would ask a class to paint large scale paintings using a shoe of their choosing. No brushes, no cheating. Thank you.
— Carolyn Enz Hack | Student
Graham the lunchtime guest
In 1994 I worked at the Rose Cafe on the corner of 9th street and fifth during lunch shifts. At least twice a week Graham came in with a bevy of guests both famous and up and coming. He’d always ask me for a half bottle of deer valley Chardonnay to go with his chicken paillard or something lighter for lunch. He’d spend a good hour hosting an informative and passionate lunch. I always looked forward to seeing him. I took him as an intellectually classy gentleman. RIP Graham. You left an imprint on me and the world.
— Larry Hammel | Past waiter. Rose Cafe 1994-5.
Generous with his wisdom
I fortuitously found the Studio School walking past it on lunch break from my graphic design job; I saw the banner, and followed a paint-dabbed student inside. The show of student work in the gallery was real painting. I stood there a long time looking at brush marks and color and then asked about enrolling. Before I knew it I was a marathon student, then an evening drawing student, and then a full time student. Graham was my main teacher for three life-changing years, during which I felt supported, humbled, pushed, exhilarated, and sometimes just exhausted. His respect for the pursuit of painting was infectious. It’s hard to express how at home I felt in that building, and I know many others feel the same. I appreciated Graham’s quality of attention, which he gave us all freely.
Graham taught us to read paintings. To think of painting as a language. To see painting’s metaphoric possibilities in expressing our perceptual experience. The solidity of form and daring use of color in his own work is an embodiment of his words.
Never short of ambitious ideas, he came up with the plan for us to board a bus in front of the school with our supplies, including canvasses of all sizes, and drive an hour to Old Westbury Gardens, which became a rich source of subject matter for decades of students. My introduction to watercolor was painting the sunrise with him on a trip to Florida, where a group of us travelled for a marathon. As if the long painting days weren’t enough, we set our alarms to start the day painting the sun rise over the water.
Although I had never taught before, Graham invited me to teach a Saturday morning painting class, and that put me on the fulfilling track of teaching. His voice in my head was so present for me when I started teaching, and I told him that. He gave me a slow, knowing smile and said something poetic about how we internalize our teachers, but our voice is our own. Fifteen years after leaving the school, I assisted him in a marathon, and it was thrilling to hear his insightful critiques again. Maybe he talked more about the magic and mystery in painting during that marathon, than when I had been a student, or more likely I hadn’t been ready to understand it at the time.
I feel lucky to have been changed by Graham’s wisdom, generosity, and kindness, and I will always be grateful.
— Kamilla Talbot | Student, Mentee, Assistant
A First Marathon
When Graham first arrived at the NYSS he introduced the Marathon. I was honored to be ask to teach one of them. It was definitely a challenge but also very exhilarating. The energy in the school was palpable. Students were totally engaged and the outcomes were exhibited so that all participants could see the work that was made over the two weeks. Spectacular. In the spirit of celebration there was a party at the end too. Graham and I were truly pleased and enjoying the party, rather a lot, as we were slightly in our cups when he said, “I am going to make this the best art school in the country” And he did!
— Barbara Grossman | Artist, Friend, Teacher and married to a Founder of the NYSS, Charles Cajori
Inspiration
I met Graham in a virtual marathon during the pandemic. From the first day I was inspired by his creative spirit, dedication to teaching the group and his vision. Afterwards he invited me to attend the NYSS where his legacy stands high. He will always be remember for his wonderful color palettes and his humanist approach to lead.
— Camila Chaves Cortes | Student, photographer, artist
A fiftieth birthday present
When I told my wife I was thinking about enrolling in Graham Nickson’s Drawing Marathon she told me I could do that as my fiftieth birthday present. So during the summer of 2006 I enrolled and it was a fabulous experience. The intensity of the class was amazing. I enjoyed the scale of the work that I was pushed to explore. The idea that if our paper would run out we were told simply tack up another piece of paper and continue to work. The variety of media that we used further expanded my tool box. The fact that I was in New York City was an added benefit. The experience of the two week Drawing Marathon that summer was wonderful.
— Brad E. Moore | Student
Remembering Graham
What a loss! I first met Graham when we were both scholarship holders at the British School at Rome. He had been there a year already and had learned quite a bit of Italian and knew his way around some excellent and reasonably inexpensive restaurants, both in the city and small towns not far away. He was painting sunsets from the roof terrace, looking over the Borghese Gardens (I still have one). His studio became a meeting place for all sorts of conversations and impromptu lectures, including one by the soon to be notorious Anthony Blunt, the “fifth man,” who talked about his work on Borromini. Not really Graham’s thing: he especially liked Masolino. Graham was remarkably generous; I stayed with him in Soho on my first visit to NYC. I remember strolling along West Broadway one evening and meeting various people from the community that existed back then. I rather lost contact with him in recent years, but I think back with nostalgia to time I spent with him in Rome, London, and NYC. He was a true mensch as well as artist and talker about art. My condolences to his wife and daughter and to the Studio School community. Charles Burroughs (Rochester NY)
— Charles Burroughs | friend
Beyond the Canvas: Remembering Graham Nickson’s Legacy
I first joined this school in 2005, beginning with the three-year certificate program before continuing into the two-year MFA program. Over those five years, I was fortunate to study under Graham Nickson for three of them. His teaching was not easy to grasp—at least not at first. Unlike many instructors, he never gave direct corrections on proportion, color, or technique. Instead, he spoke of space, color relations, metaphor, poetry, color logic, particular to general or general to particular, concave and convex… etc., concepts that felt abstract and elusive at the time.
He encouraged questions, welcomed curiosity, and was always ready to engage in deep discussions about art. But back then, I lacked the ability to even formulate the right questions. All I could do was continue working, absorbing his critiques, and gradually, something incredible happened: I began to understand. The ideas that once felt so intangible started making sense through practice and persistence.
Graham was an extraordinary teacher. He never wanted his students to copy others, nor did he push us toward mastering old techniques for the sake of tradition. Instead, he wanted us to internalize his teachings and, through our own thinking and our own hands, create something truly original. He believed in guiding students toward artistic independence rather than imitation.
His passing is an immeasurable loss to all of us who had the privilege of learning from him. But while he may no longer be here, his wisdom, passion, and philosophy remain deeply ingrained in the way we see, think, and create. His lessons live on—not just in our work, but in how we understand art and the world itself.
— Jessica Cheung | Alumni 2010, Artist, base in UK
An Artist’s Legacy
“Do it once, or a thousand times.”
Graham Nickson’s is the voice I’ve had inside my head for over 20 years now after attending my first Drawing Marathon in Adelaide, Australia. I had studied art before that but entering Graham’s world was like entering the colosseum of painting and drawing.
Suddenly all participants we were asked to cover the whole centre of their drawings up and only draw around the small perimeter! Then we had to draw odd “pathways” through our drawing and then rub it all out, move it across two feet and finally put another piece of paper next to it and draw into that! Ludicrous! What were all these crazy excercises in aid of I could hear people asking?
Then at night it became clear to us when everyone hung their huge drawings up and we got together for the critique sessions. It was so clear and apparent what was successful in the drawings and what needed improvement. Graham entranced us all with his approach, his words were at the same time encouraging and scathing but no one felt discouraged, in fact all of us were spurred on to create better work as he had let us into a world that only few are privileged enough to be a part of.
It was not so much what Graham said but what he didn’t which was so intriguing for me. Never once did he say anything about style or technique, that was your job, you are the artist and he wisely never interfered in your personal path as an artist but rather facilitated it. He gave people license to be the absolute best artists they could be.
I haven’t been in contact with Graham for many years but his spirit lives so strongly in my heart and I was deeply saddened to hear of his passing. He leaves behind such a precious legacy to so many people, may all who have known him pass on his teachings to future artists.
— David Hurwitz | Mentee
Thank you for everything Graham
I first met Graham the summer the summer of my senior year at Hollins summer of 2010. I felt like he opened my eyes to the hidden world beyond the immediate, and I promised him and myself would come back. I moved from Virginia to NYC to study with him, and in 2012 I began my work with him. He taught me to see beyond, to treat myself with kindness and honesty, and he believed deeply in me.
I am so grateful for every moment in his company. I spent many hours working with him closely through 15 marathons, countless after dinner glasses of wine, and rides around Westbury where we spoke deeply about art and life. He taught me how to empower myself, and my students, through art and community. He taught me to look and keep looking, to seek honesty and truth, and check my ego at the door.
I am reminded of him daily, when I get to instill the same mystery in my students that he showed me. I see him in all the incredible relationships and mentorships he had with so many people, and every time I start a new painting. Lastly I see him in the enduring friendships I have had with my classmates-who have become my life long friends.
I also want to thank him for trusting me with a special student. Through him, I had many incredible hours with her drawing horses- And to this day she is too is with me in my work. She was my first of many senior students, and through her I learned so much.
Thank you Graham. I love you. Your immense impact will continue through the generations of artists you mentored and taught.
-forever your student, Sarah
— Sarah King | Student, Mentee, Assistant
Greatest Teacher Ever Lived
Graham Nickson, the art giant and most wonderful teacher I had the pleasure of working with from 2016-2019. His strong influence has propelled me to pursue a career in painting, become an educator, and eventually start an art school here in St. Louis.
On the day of learning about Graham’s passing, I showed up to my college painting class with a plan to show extension lines and talk about how Morandi can hold together air that is both dense and sensitive by his poetic calculations.
But I was in a million pieces. There was a tab on my laptop open to a photo of Graham. I asked my students (who at the time were mischievously jousting with the rulers and totally unconcerned) that they take what I’m about to say with all seriousness. Before I could say anything, I was filled up with all the gratitude and sadness one could feel, along with years worth of conversations that wanted to come out at once.
“This man right here, he’s the reason why I am a painter today. My mentor, my teacher, an even greater painter.” It was a rather unsophisticated introduction but that was the best I could do without letting tears take over; my voice was shaking as students sat in silence, patiently making space for their teacher to regain composure.
I struggled with severe depression during college and had days where they felt like my last. I almost didn’t make it. But painting was there to hold me together by a thread of hope and gave me refuge. When I came to the studio school for my first marathon it was the only way forward for me as a young, immature, and inexperienced artist. I thought for sure, “after the marathon I will quit painting altogether,” because after all, painting is not a real career. As a first generation immigrant that felt too lofty of a dream and too irresponsible of a life. Working with Graham had swung that door wide open and I couldn’t help but be curious about what it meant to be a real painter.
“He is a wizard,” is what I say when people ask about Graham. What I mean by that, in retrospect, is that he is an interpreter of signs. He sees in you what you can’t and pulls and polishes those hidden gems with riddles and insights. “There’s a key inside these paintings,” as he said.
Working with Graham was a much needed intervention of my ignorance and misunderstandings. What he offered me, as for many painters as well, was a seat at the table from which we converse with those that came before and witness the mystery that remains alive and rich — holding history and poetry hand in hand.
When we step into the studio, we’re stepping into a lineage that many have paved the way for, over thousands of years. Painting is truly sacred. I do not take this yoke lightly as a painter and an educator. The task at hand is immense.
At this point in the class I turned to my students and said, “this might just be a class to you, but this is my life. Give painting a chance to change your life.” The spirit of conviction and fervor that Graham passed onto me will remain bright wherever I go. After all, I’m just a messenger.
Thank you, Graham. I’ll miss you so much and I want to make you proud everyday.
— Misato Pang | Former Student
Graham Nickson- the ear and what it taught us
“That’s a beautiful ear, shame it’s in the wrong place!”
This story was a favorite of Graham’s to show that keeping or protecting a passage of a painting that the artist deemed perfect might not be the right thing to do.
Firstly, if you painted it once, you could paint it again, maybe even better.
Secondly, that despite it being a great passage, it might be undermining the painting as a whole.
Moral: Sometimes we must destroy the things we love the best to make the painting better!
Painting truly is a metaphor for life, Graham.
Forever grateful,
— Lisa Steffens | Friend and former student, MFA Class 2006
Our Amazing Dysfunctional Family of Artists
Graham was a force when it came to supporting creative acts and committing to their vision. He was a patriarch to a crazy, dysfunctional family of artists, welcoming anyone who wanted to participate. I witnessed his early days at the Studio School, where he gave chances to everyone willing to engage. Looking back, those times seem almost unbelievable – we were constantly improvising, driven by optimism and the power of art. Our approach was pure and unpredictable; we never knew exactly what would emerge, but we believed in the process and made it happen. we were so unqualified but had the belief that we could get things done and we did!
There are so many memories of the Studio School in the 90’s but one that really sticks out and is a perfect example the era is Graham’s 50th birthday party. The whole school piled out to Old Westbury and we partied Kennedy style…gorgeous food and drinks…touch football and a fireworks display! This was when the program was personal and raw and young. It seems like it was all about the spirit of art then…when the students ran amuck in the building 24 hours a day, were consumed by making art and fueled by a that energy…or the time all the students rallied together and went up on scaffolding and painted the facade of the building…and the time that…
I can only hope that that spirit remained in the later years and continues on into the future…the stories…the memories and the essence of that place…the people and the building!
— Anthony Rebholz | Artist, Friend, Studio School Student and Staff circa 1990’s
Painting Critique
Graham accepted me at the Studio School in January 2014 (I’m Brazilian). I had never painted before; I used to create pen drawings in black and white. As classes started, he encouraged me not to be afraid of colors and to dive in. A week later, we had our first critique at the Whitney Studio, where that gorgeous fireplace is located. We displayed all our works on the wall, and Graham sat behind us to begin the critique.
After reviewing many paintings, he began to analyze mine. He discussed subjects that seemed unrelated to my work or painting at all, making leaps across various thoughts and ideas. From time to time, he would glance at me, and I guess my face showed that I found it all a bit strange. At one point, he stopped and said, “I’m sorry, son; you might have thought all of this was about painting, but this is about LIFE.”
That statement made a huge impact on my life. It resonates with me to this day and will echo forever. Thank you, Maestro Graham.
— Cesar Gabriotti | Former Graham’s student
coach
Graham was the only teacher I had that made me feel like drawing & painting were athletic pursuits. I took several of his marathons in the late 80s and early 90s.
A typical situation occurred at the end of a one or two today drawing on oversized paper. During the last 20 minutes he’d frantically roamed around the room urging everyone to make big changes. He’d be pointing out how the whole upper left-hand corner of my drawing needed to be redone. He would make us believe that these were the last marks we would ever make. And so it went down to the last five minutes, one minute, 15 seconds. We had to make it count. When the timer finally rang, everybody exhaled as if finishing a literal marathon.
Graham sauntered over to the model or models and had a brief discussion. Then after a minute or so he announced, “the models have just agreed to give you another 20 minutes!”
— Steve Hicks | early student
A Teacher Like No Other
I am deeply saddened by Graham’s recent passing—he was a person of immense knowledge with the rare ability to convey the mystery of painting.
After my studies in Berlin, I received a scholarship to study abroad. By the time I arrived in New York, however, I had missed all the MFA application deadlines. I had never heard of the New York Studio School until one of my teachers in Berlin mentioned it to me. Even though I had missed the MFA deadline, I was still able to enroll in the Certificate Program.
I first met Graham during a drawing marathon. After two weeks, I knew I wanted to be in his class. My education in Berlin had given me great freedom to explore my own artistic path, but I longed to understand the old masters and truly see a painting. Graham’s class was already full, but I went to him and said, “I don’t want to be anywhere else except in your class.” He told me I could join—if I committed to studying for an MFA with him. He made an exception for me.
Graham and his assistant at the time, Elisa Jensen, interviewed me even though the semester had already begun. And so began a wonderful, mysterious, and deeply precious time with Graham.
I was deeply inspired by Graham’s teaching. With him, we learned so much about composition, color, and negative space. He had a unique way of bringing negative shapes to life, even giving them funny names. We painted from perception and then reversed the colors—warm green became cool red. He gave us exercises like combining Rembrandt and de Kooning, painting with brooms, or working only in black and white. Once, he had us transform an Antonio del Pollaiuolo engraving into something that late de Kooning might have created—and vice versa.
The way he spoke about every painting—with such devotion—was unforgettable. Because of him, I became obsessed with the Italian old masters. But he was open to all kinds of painting. I remember him describing how, in a Jackson Pollock painting, the white paint on top pushed all the colors underneath, creating space.
Once, during the drawing marathon, he said, “A drawing is like a house with many windows. One window is open, so you try to close it. But once you close it, another window opens somewhere else, and you go there to close it. It can be a long process. It is crucial to understand how one part is influenced by the others.”
One time, he cooked for the entire school, and it was one of the most memorable dinners at NYSS. He always said, “Cooking is like painting—look at the color of the vegetables: a little red, green, and yellow.”
He also said, “If someone asks you what your favorite color is, how can you answer? Each color is influenced by the one next to it.” One of his favorite combinations was yellow and black.
Even when he was ill, he would take a piece of charcoal and draw a perfect line with such concentration. It was incredible to witness.
I wanted so badly to come to New York and visit him—he would have been the first person I went to see. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen, but I have such amazing memories of my time studying with the best teacher ever.
I am endlessly grateful for his teaching. It wasn’t just his vast knowledge—it was who he was, his energy, and the way he treated his students with profound respect. He made you and your work feel special. He was, and remains, an inspiration to me. It is so rare to meet someone like him. No one can replace him. Wherever he is now, in whatever dimension, his presence remains.
— Elena Kolbasina | Alumni 2010, Artist
One of countless people whose life changed because of Graham
Rest in Peace Graham Nickson, my mentor, my teacher, my boss, my inspiration. It feels impossible to condense what Graham meant to me and what I learned from him. He has been a huge part of my life for the last twelve years. He is why I am the artist and teacher I am today.
I met Graham when I was 22 years old, just entering my first semester at the Studio School. From day one, Graham treated me as a serious artist. He saw us all this way, serious artists deserving of serious attention, capable of serious inquiry and exploration.
Graham responded to our passion and ambition, nothing else. He never made me feel too young to know anything, my gender never played a role in his treatment or respect for me. It was the ambition for the work, the open mindedness, willingness to push oneself. If you had an eagerness and excitement to learn, you unlocked the treasure of Graham Nickson. That is a unique aspect of an educator. He did not judge us. He asked us to be open, work hard, confront challenges, and accept the process. You must be lost in order to be found.
He would challenge us, casually, to make masterpieces, implying to me that a masterpiece was not out of my grasp. He believed in me, in all of us.
In my studio to this day, I have written down and posted Graham’s formula for painting: “1/3 truth to the experience, 1/3 truth to the painting, and 1/3 magic.”
I had the honor to be his student for two years, to be his Teaching Assistant for three Marathons, and to be his employee for 9 years. We co-curated three exhibitions together, and I had the opportunity to co-curate an exhibition of his work in 2018.
I am grateful for every ounce of wisdom he has imparted on me and the world. Graham Nickson changed my life, and there are countless others who can say the same thing.
— Rachel Rickert | student, mentee, employee
