In conversation with Elephant Magazine’s Editor-in-Chief, Tschabalala Self, Mosley reflects on a lifetime of making: from his early days as a postal worker, to formative encounters with African sculpture and Brancusi, to his deep appreciation for jazz and the quiet persistence of practice.
Iconic sculptor Thaddeus Mosley just unveiled his installation, Touching the Earth, with the Public Art Fund at Manhattan’s City Hall Park. In his golden age of 98 years old and still working daily in his Pittsburgh studio, Mosley has spent over six decades carving bold, lyrical sculptures from salvaged wood. His installation is a towering abstraction full of rhythm and grace, much like himself.
With humor, humility, and remarkable clarity, Mosley shares insights into his creative process—how he plans his sculptures in his head before picking up a tool, why he preserves the natural grain of the wood, and how a life of “avoiding bad habits,” has kept him grounded.
This rare interview offers an intimate look at a master still in motion—sculpting not just wood, but time itself.
Tschabalala Self: How are you doing today?
Thaddeus Mosley: I’m fine.
TS: Are you in Pittsburgh?
TM: Yes, I’m in the studio.
TS: I read that you go to the studio every day.
TM: Oh yeah, that’s where the work is.
TS: I also read that you are 99 years old, is that correct?
TM: Next month I’ll be 99, today I’m 98.
TS: When is your birthday may I ask?
TM: July 23rd.
TS: Do you have any advice for leading a healthy and productive life as an artist?
TM: Well, as a human being, I try to avoid as many bad habits as I can. When I was very young in Junior High and High School, I was athletic and on sports teams and so forth. I don’t do anything really special. I never smoked, I get enough sleep and eat decent food. I just feel that I have good genes and a lot of luck.
TS: Of course, I completely understand that. I know throughout your career, you’ve had several different kinds of jobs while you’ve been working as an artist. Can you speak to some of those and how they’ve informed your practice?
TM: Oh well, I studied English and Journalism at University of Pittsburgh. I graduated in 1950 but I did all types of work. While I was in school I worked in the mill–I worked as a hod-carrier, a hod-carrier carries brick-and-mortar for building buildings [laughs]. The hod-carriers, I guess, are extinct now. I also worked as a darkroom technician, developing film. I worked at the Pittsburgh Courier part time as a journalist, a sports writer and I also worked for 40 years in the Postal Service to maintain a steady income and in the mid-50s, I started attempting to make sculpture and I’ve been at it ever since.
TS: I know that you said you played sports when you were younger and then you also wrote about sports. What is your favorite sport?
TM: I like most sports. I like track, and I played a little basketball. I like football and tennis. I watch most sports, I even watch bowling and golf. They’re pretty prevalent on television.
TS: If you had to describe your current studio for people who have never been there before, what does it look like? What does it feel like? What is the scale of the space?
TM: Well, it’s in the basement of an industrial building and I have a fair amount of space. Oh, there’s just one space that’s brightly lit where I work and where the logs are stored. The rest has more scattered light with finished sculptures, chairs, and tools—just the usual things you’d find in a studio.
TS: Can you think back to the very first sculpture you made? What was it like? What materials did you use?
TM: I can’t remember the very first piece exactly, but early on, everything I made was in wood—figures, heads, things of that sort. I started out mainly making figures. I made one [figure] about seven or eight years ago again. I didn’t show it, I have it in my dining room in my house.
TS: Oh wow.
TM: Yeah, I have quite a bit of sculpture in my house that’s never been shown. Photos of my home have appeared in a few magazines—Apartamento, I think, and Leslie Williamson took some photos for her book. Like most artists, I’ve got art everywhere.
TS: I read that when you returned from the Navy and were at the University of Pittsburgh, you had a moment of inspiration when you saw a Brancusi sculpture paired with African sculpture in a world history course. Was that a turning point for you?
TM: I’m not sure it was the very first impactful moment, but yes, I went to the University of Pittsburgh, and right across the street is the Carnegie Museum. It’s a very well-known institution—home to the Carnegie International, which happens every four years. I had a friend studying painting, so we would go see exhibitions together. That’s where I saw Brancusi, Matisse, and Norman Lewis. I haven’t missed a Carnegie International since the late ’40s.
TS: That’s amazing.
TM: A few years ago, I was even included in one.
TS: I know! I was going to ask about that. Your work with wood is so organic, and I’ve read that you try to preserve the natural texture—the gnarls and whorls—in the material. Could you speak to your relationship with nature and why you choose to keep those surfaces intact?
TM: Well, I wouldn’t say my connection to nature is deeper than anyone else’s, but since I work with logs, I try to honor their natural form. Most of my sculptures are carved from multiple segments—two, three, sometimes five pieces—so they need to be carved and fitted carefully to come apart and ship easily. Everything’s dry, and I mostly use black walnut and cherry wood. I get wood from millers, tree surgeons—especially from storm-felled trees.
TS: Why walnut and cherry?
TM: They’re hardwoods and have a beautiful natural grain. When you carve hardwood, the definition is very sharp. I also use tool marks as accents, and those show up well in these woods.
TS: Are those tool marks a nod to African sculpture?
TM: Slightly, yes. African tribal art has had a big influence on me, but they use fewer tools than Westerners. My style is different—I don’t imitate. My work is mostly abstract.
TS: Why are you drawn towards abstraction?
TM: As I grew and learned, I became more interested in the essence of form. Abstraction lets me explore that more deeply in my work.
TS: I wanted to ask about your upbringing in Newcastle. Your father was a coal miner, and your mother was a seamstress, right?
TM: That’s right. My grandfather and father were both miners. Newcastle and the surrounding areas were full of mines and mills. My mother made clothes and worked flowers—very creative. I attribute my creative interests to my mother’s creativity.
TS: Do you think your father’s work with the earth influenced your relationship with materials?
TM: Not really. I wouldn’t say that directly influenced my aesthetic. What really shaped me was spending time at the Carnegie Museum and reading about art. That’s where it began for me, I spent many hours looking at art in books there.
TS: Where did you travel while you were in the Navy?
TM: I started in boot camp in Chicago, then I went to New York—Floyd Bennett Naval Air Station in Jamaica Bay. Then San Francisco, Fleet City near Oakland, Hawaii, Guam, and Peleliu in the South Pacific. After the war ended, I retraced that route back home.
TS: That’s a lot of traveling, was that during WWII?
TM: Yes. I was drafted near the tail end. I was part of a logistics support company—we mostly did stevedore work.
TS: My grandfathers were in World War II. They were sent to Germany.
TM: They sound like they were soldiers
TS: Yes. So, in 2018 you were in Carnegie international. Since then, your career seems to have taken off. How has it evolved?
TM: It really accelerated when I joined Karma gallery. We’ve done four or five solo shows, including one with Calder’s work at the Seattle Museum. I also showed for years at the Pittsburgh Center for the Arts and the Associated Artists of Pittsburgh. My first show at Carnegie was in 1968. My last one before 2018 was in 1997—we released a monograph then, photographed by Lonnie Graham and written by David Lewis. In 2018, my work was prominently featured in the Carnegie International.
TS: That’s a long history. And I’ve read you’ve met some of the jazz greats—Coltrane, Miles Davis?
TM: Yes. I met Charlie Parker, Coltrane, Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie… so many. Back then, jazz clubs in Pittsburgh were open every night. All the big names came through—Stan Getz, Art Blakey, Roland Kirk.
TS: So is Jazz a big inspiration for you?
TM: It’s not necessarily an inspiration, but it enhances my life. I’ve been listening to jazz since I was eight years old, since 1934. I listen to music all the time–when I’m at the studio and at home, it keeps me company there. I have most of my records at home, the clubs aren’t what they used to be. I don’t go to them much anymore, I stopped driving about a year ago.
TS: So you were still driving until recently? All the way up until you were 97?
TM: Until I was 98! I just decided I didn’t like driving anymore. When my license came up for renewal, it was time for me to stop.
TS: How do you know when a sculpture is finished?
TM: I usually have the sculpture planned in my mind before I start. I lay out the wood, mark it, and know how each piece fits together. Once I’ve worked through all the steps in my head and completed them, then it’s finished.
TS: I remember reading that you started carving out of necessity—can you elaborate on that?
TM: I started carving because I wanted to make things, not to have a career or make money. I didn’t go into it thinking I’d be an artist. I just wanted to see what I could do with my hands.
TS: Are there any materials or ideas you haven’t explored that you’d like to?
TM: Not really, I’ve never been interested in ceramics or glass. I teach at a summer program in Western Pennsylvania called Touchstone. Other artists take different classes, but I always say, “I’m still trying to get better at what I do.” Wood is my main material. Sometimes I translate pieces into bronze, but it’s the same imagery and texture.
TS: Here’s my final question, Thaddeus: what advice would you give to a younger artist—someone like me?
TM: If this is what you really want to do, go to work. One of my friends used to say, “Keep working. Keep showing up. Keep trying to get better.” See as much as you can, do as much as you can. That’s how you become an artist.
TS: That’s beautiful advice. It’s been such an honor speaking with you. You are very wise and have such a kind demeanor.
TM: You’re very welcome.
TS: Hopefully I’ll meet you in person someday.
TM: If you’re ever in Pittsburgh, give me a call. I still get to New York now and then.
