When I first saw one of Klo’s “booby” prints, I was standing alone in Freeman’s Alley in the Lower East Side. It was during the prime of the 2020 election season and I had fled to the alley to find solace within the street art that lines it. I found the reassurance that I wasn’t alone in a sort of feminist panic when I saw Klo’s “booby” art pasted in the alley. I was immediately drawn to the color palette, style, and subject matter of Klo’s work. As I left the alley and walked home, I began to notice Klo’s artwork pasted all over the Lower East Side and SoHo.
Since then, I’ve loved seeing Klo’s work all over the city and social media. Klo’s art adds color to the city, invites conversation, and empowers all.
In this interview, Klo and I discuss the inspiration behind the “booby” art that introduced me to Klo, the New York City street art scene, and Klo’s evolution as an artist.
12TH STREET: Could you tell me a little bit about your “booby” artwork?
KLO: I’m BRCA positive, which is a huge part of my life. I was introduced to breast cancer when I was 9 because my mother was diagnosed. And then my sister, my older sister, was 29 when diagnosed. And then, since I had the gene, I knew I was going to get it when I was 30. So, when making the decision to get a mastectomy, I had to give my old breasts life. The “booby” images are my breasts. I know that they’re not perfect. I know they’re not the mainstream type. But, that was kind of the point. These are my boobs. I appreciate them, I love them. And I’m not going to get them back. Although they’re imperfect, I loved them. It was my body. I felt like if I’m going through this, and I think I started doing that series at 24, other people have to be going through it too. No one was really talking about body positivity or deeper things that people are going through. I felt like I had to speak about it. Even if no one listened, I had to put it out there. I didn’t realize how powerful it was going to be. But, I’ve had women message me, saying “Oh, I’m going through the exact same thing.” I’ve formed a little community with these women. One woman, when she saw the boobs, started following me on Instagram, kind of like you, and then admitted to me that she had breast cancer and that she hadn’t told anyone that she was really afraid. She had so many questions to ask me, and it was so beautiful that she reached out. And that’s ultimately why I do it. I felt alone in all of it. I didn’t know how to speak about it to anyone. Being 24 and having this big decision in front of you—to remove your breasts—is a lot. It’s very overwhelming. I don’t know how to communicate my thoughts except through art. I could tell you a story through my art, which is what I did with the boobs. It was so liberating for me and it was humbling that it was liberating for other women too.
STREET: That’s why I was immediately drawn to your work. I am in the process of getting tested for the BRCA mutations and I felt very seen by your work. When I saw your work, I didn’t know the background behind it, but I feel like a part of me knew the background behind it. I really appreciate that.
KLO: Oh, absolutely. I try to be as vocal about BRCA as possible because that information is not available to the masses. That’s why it was also very important to me to bring awareness to this. I know there’s breast cancer awareness, but we only get a month in October. I need it to last a whole year.
NOTE: If you’d like to learn more about the BRCA (BReast CAncer) gene mutations, please click here.
STREET: Yes, exactly. Could you tell me a bit about your artistic background? How long have you been creating art?
KLO: My dad was an artist. So, I’ve been drawing since I was like, three. And my parents were like, “You were the quietest kid. You just went into your room and drew all day.” Then, probably around Middle School, I got really serious about it. I started honing in on skill and drawing and practicing religiously. I always knew I was going to go to art school, I just didn’t know which one. In my senior year of high school, I was producing massive amounts of work. Then I got into SVA (School of Visual Arts). I did illustration. I had an internship at a street art agency called Fillin Global. The guy who owns it really liked my art, and he was like, “I think you could do street art.” That made me want to get out there and put my mark on the world.
STREET: Why street art?
KLO: Being an artist, in New York in particular, is so hard. You apply to a show and you may not get it. For me, street art was a way to create my own gallery. I’m forcing people to look at this work. And if they have a positive reaction or a negative reaction, they have a reaction. That’s ultimately what I like about art: connecting with people through images. I’m not the most communicative person when talking, but I am definitely thorough in my art. When you see my art, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. Art was just so powerful, like, an image really is worth a thousand words. Art is my calling. I can’t see myself doing anything else other than art for the rest of my life.
STREET: What media do you prefer to work with?
KLO: After college, I was painting, then I switched to digital work. All the illustrations that I do on the street are digital.
STREET: How has your style evolved throughout the years?
KLO: I developed the close style of line work and the use of soft color after college, but then also incorporating these androgynous gender fluid people in the mix. I needed to bring awareness to trans people, queer ideologies, and queer rights. Just to inform people that this is happening. I think I needed to make it real through my art.
STREET: Something I’ve noticed about street art, since moving to New York, is that it’s impossible to ignore. You notice it regardless. Where there’s color, you can’t help but be drawn to it.
KLO: There’s so much street art. It’s person after person after person after person. What I love about New York street art is that it is so different. I obviously talk about what I talk about. Then you have people like Riisa. Riisa does all these really dope illustrations. And you have people like Surface of Beauty, who does these gorgeous flowers. And Dain, who does these cool, kind of collage-y, spray-painted, splattered images. It’s all so different. Even if you didn’t like the work you see, you have to see it. And that repetitiveness kind of forces you to recognize this artist and see what they’re about. I needed that. I had so much to say that I needed to put it out there for people to have a reaction, to see how my world felt, and start a conversation. Whether it’s been positive or negative, people have reached out to me and commented on my work and how it affected them. Again, it hasn’t all been positive, but I think it’s amazing that these people reached out to me, even with a negative reaction.
STREET: I noticed that you also, in your answer to an earlier question, talked about color and using softer colors. That’s something that stood out to me about your work. What role does color play in your creative process? Is there a reason why you chose to work with softer colors, like pinks?
KLO: Definitely. Pink will always define women in a way, and I think it is such a beautiful color, personally. That light petal-y pink is gorgeous and I picked it because the boob image is really in-your-face, and that’s kind of how my work is. But that color pink tones it down and allows people to go further with looking at it. I feel like if I did it in just black and white, it would be too aggressive. But the use of color really lured people in. People are naturally lured in by color. It’s sensitive for everyone. That was the goal of it: to create this in-your-face image, but to make it as soft and as welcoming as possible.
If you look on my Instagram, I have a section called “find beauty in the hideous.” So, I try to create based on a lot of ideals in society that aren’t typically accepted. The boobs are saggy. That’s not typically accepted. Women right now are trying to fight for natural bodies. Basically, I take a lot of topics that aren’t typically appreciated, like being trans or having saggier body parts, and make them acceptable. The colors that I use allow that commentary to happen.
STREET: That makes a lot of sense. Being seen and seeing parts of myself in street art has really impacted me. I’ve also noticed how your work impacts others. When I was in Freeman’s Alley, I saw a mother explaining your art to her daughter. It was such a sweet moment. I was wondering if you have any stories or favorite moments from when you were pasting your art?
KLO: When I was pasting my “Afro Queen” in Freeman’s alley, this guy proposed to this woman in front of my wheat paste. I got a message later saying, “We waited for you to paste this, so I could propose there.” That was the biggest compliment ever. But, there have been so many stories.
I was pasting in front of Basquiat’s door one time, which is also in the Lower East Side, and this woman was like, “titty girl.” And I was like, “what?” She was like, “we just saw your tits.” She kept saying tits the entire time. This is when I was doing the three feet by three feet boobies. She was like, “this is how my boobs look and I keep seeing them everywhere.” I feel like I’ve given a lot of women the chance to be proud of their boobs. And I’m proud too. For a while, I really didn’t like them. And then the moment I found out I was going to lose them forever, I needed to appreciate them and give them life. It forced me to appreciate myself. It forced other people to appreciate themselves as well.
STREET: I think that’s important. I also love the proposal story. I know that I always look forward to your posts on Instagram, but what role does social media play in your creative process and your work? If any?
KLO: So, I use Instagram kind of like Pinterest. I look up a lot of people that I admire. I look up different styles of art to find something that’s going to influence me. Instagram has allowed me to be available to this world of different artists and people. I’ve connected with different people from different countries, especially if we do the same type of work or share a similar story. So, Instagram has allowed me to tap into other people’s viewpoints, which has allowed me to create the art that I do. I get a lot of stories from women who have breast cancer or haven’t told anyone or don’t know what to do. Instagram has allowed these people to find me, and we find a solace in everything. So, it has definitely helped me in terms of inspiration, but also connecting with an audience. I know some people are very anti-Instagram, but I use it like a portfolio.
STREET: How long have you been pasting your art around the city?
KLO: I was 21 when I started, and at that time, I was pasting a print of a pink bra. The guy from my internship—his name is Thomas—really took me under his wing. He taught me how to make paste and what paper and materials I needed. He took me out pasting a few times and set me up. I still use his setup. I still use his recipe. I pretty much do everything he taught me because it works.
STREET: What does a day of pasting normally look like for you?
KLO: A day of pasting is printing and cutting everything out. I make two gallons of paste to go out for the night, which is 30 minutes of work. I cool it down. And then, I go out at night for two or three hours to paste everywhere. Lately, I’ve been hitting Brooklyn. Now, when you go on Bedford, it’s littered with all my breasts. It’s an all-day process, but once everything is set up, you can go to the location you want and just vomit all over the city with your art. Recently, I’ve been taking my boyfriend out with me and he’s been taking videos while I’ve been pasting. There’s always excitement and the adrenaline rush because it’s illegal. Putting my work up and getting away with it is fun. But, the preparation is so meticulous. I’m working on another illustration to put out on the street. That process looks like coming up with the idea, seeing how it will be put out on the street, guessing how people are going to react to it, seeing whether it creates an impact. It’s a process and then, the actual act of doing it is also another process.
STREET: I didn’t know it was illegal. Is that why you choose to go out and paste at night?
KLO: I do it at night because it’s darker and fewer vigilant people are out, so I can get the walls I want to get. But, there are still enough people out on the street to camouflage yourself.
STREET: Have you had any weird run-ins or any almost-getting-caught moments?
KLO: I was at the old Supreme store once with my boss, and we were putting things up on the pillars. Out of nowhere, the security guard comes out and he’s like, “What are you doing?” And we said, “Nothing.” And then we got in the van and we saw two cop trucks going to that location. We were all going to get arrested that night. So, that was the one oh, shit moment.
STREET: I’m glad you haven’t had any further run-ins! You mentioned you had been pasting in Brooklyn recently. Do you have a favorite part of the city to paste in?
KLO: I’ll always love Manhattan. That’s really where it started. Keith Haring would just go on the trains up and down Manhattan and put his work up. When people think of street art, they think of Manhattan. In Manhattan, people from out of the country, out of the state, or who have just moved here are exposed to your art.
Brooklyn has been good to me, though. I met two women, one had just gone through her mastectomy and the other was in the process of getting her mastectomy. I’ve also had some queer people reach out to me, because I do the Trans Klo, and they’re like, “I haven’t seen me represented on the street.” So, Brooklyn has been nice and this is my first-time diving into Brooklyn. I’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback, which has been good.
STREET: Who are some of your favorite street artists in the city?
KLO: Dain was the first street artist I worked with. My first paste with him was on an 80-foot wall in the Lower East Side. I was on a crane and was like, “Alright, let’s do this.” So, he’ll always have a special place in my heart. But, I also love Surface of Beauty. She paints these gorgeous little scenes of flowers. Riisa is also a dope, dope, dope street artist. She makes cool, hip hoppy cartoons. There’s my friend The Ohio Girl and I enjoy her work. Pure Genius—I love them, although I have never met them. And Sara Lynne is another favorite of mine. I love her cute little quirky work. She had one that said something like, “Just press the delete button. It can’t get any worse.” And when we were talking about that piece and she said, “it’s kind of depressive.” But I don’t think it’s depressive because it is true.
STREET: Is there an artist or a piece of art that consistently inspires you—one that you always find yourself returning to?
KLO: Alice Neel. She painted these lovely portraits of people she found beautiful and interesting. She painted them so plainly, as they are. They’re not extravagant, they’re just them. That’s what inspired “find beauty in the hideous.” I wanted to find people who I felt took on my persona a bit. I picked a lot of androgynous, trans, and queer people. I wanted to give them a place. I needed to give them a platform to remind them that they’re gorgeous, they’re beautiful. Alice Neel did that in her work. She has this portrait of herself where she’s naked. She’s 60 years old, all rolling out, and it is probably one of the most beautiful nudes I’ve ever seen. She’s someone I absolutely adore.
Also, Claude Cahun was a surrealist photographer in the early 1900s. She shaved all of her hair and would take self-portraits in androgynous, gender fluid outfits. That made it so normal—taking photos and the photos being pretty, delicate, and in-your-face at the same time. People had to look at it and see the peculiarity of it, but then it became normal for them. So, those are two women artists that I’m super inspired by.
STREET: I just looked up both of their work and it’s incredible.
KLO: Yeah, they’re so different, but so empowering. Alice is a painter and Claude is a photographer, but both were so impactful with their mediums. I’ve even been thinking about doing a Claude Cahun inspired photo series of myself doing different androgynous, gender-fluid scenes of myself. I don’t know if I’m going to paint them or if I’m going to keep them as photographs.
STREET: I fully support that endeavor. Thank you for sharing that and thank you for introducing me to two amazing female artists. From the outside, the New York City street art scene seems like such an incredible and supportive community. Do you have a favorite part about being involved in that community?
KLO: I think I’m one of the youngest people in the street art community. Being younger and being a female allowed me to have a different perspective. People came forward and were supportive. They gave me advice and would send me shows to apply for. Prior to Covid, Homo Riot was really helping me make a name for myself. I was in a queer art show with them. Sold Magazine backed me up so much, which I’m so happy about. Everyone has their cliques, naturally, but everyone knows everyone. It’s not a hard thing to get involved in. If you just start pasting somewhere, someone is bound to find you. The New York street art scene is not hard to get into and we’re all very accepting.
STREET: Has Covid had a big impact on the community?
KLO: Some people did stop pasting and I stopped doing so a little bit. Being so intimate with the street freaked me out a little bit. And at the same time, I was going through surgery and more susceptible to covid. So, I stopped for a while and some other people did, but then there were people like Pure Genius, Sac Six, Deedee, and Captain Eyeliner who were doing political wheat pastes and illustrations. There were some people that really went hard during covid to spread the message about covid.
But of course, we couldn’t go to shows. We couldn’t connect and be with each other. The community wasn’t lost, but it was halted. But, we were doing different things too. I was doing a woman’s chat every week where I would talk to different women in street art. But, I’ve started back up and I’ve seen more people going back out now that the weather is better. Covid paused street art, but it didn’t end it.
STREET: Where can people find more of you and your work?