Artists Nana Wolke and Kembra Pfahler on Florida’s Exotic Underbelly

Nana Wolke’s latest exhibition at Management, Halfway Out to Heaven, started out almost entirely by accident. Over dinner at a private members’ club in Miami, the Slovenian-born painter struck up a conversation with a woman who knew a guy who knew a guy. The man in question was a notorious exotic animal owner living in Homestead, Florida, known locally as “the real Tony Montana.” Wolke got his number and arranged to visit him that night. The painter filmed the enormous animals he kept in captivity on her iPhone, later pulling stills from the footage to make a series of paintings on linen, each weighing nearly 35 pounds. Now filling the gallery’s left corner, they’re enormous, feverish scenes of captive wildlife, rendered in shades of red and orange worked over a surface made of construction sand mixed with gesso. It’s a lurid little window into the American appetite for the extreme, and a subject that’s near and dear to Wolke’s friend, the performance artist Kembra Pfahler, who has spent decades exploring the more grotesque pleasures of American life. When the two got together at the gallery last month, they dug deep into Florida’s most thrilling and degenerate qualities, the moral quandaries of exotic animal breeding, and divine timing.

SUNDAY 2 PM SEPTEMBER 13, 2026 CHINATOWN

———

KEMBRA PFAHLER: This is a stupid question, but how did you even get these in here?

NANA WOLKE: Well, the guys brought it up the stairs, through the Chinese restaurant on the first floor. It was kind of just them.

PFAHLER: That’s very heroic.

WOLKE: I know. 

PFAHLER: These are sort of edited like a film. They’re cinematic and huge, and you’re painting on linen.

WOLKE: It’s nicer with linen because you can have a thicker weave. Each one of these weighs like 35 pounds.

PFAHLER: No way.

WOLKE: They’re really heavy. It’s all kind of a physical exercise in the end, you know. 

PFAHLER: Did you build up to painting this large? Painting really large is very frightening to me. Also, having things make sense when they’re large is hard. 

WOLKE: It’s a challenge because you have to kind of control the surface. You have to really tighten in some spots and let the other ones be loose, but have it still all work together. For the last two years, I’ve been working with a rougher surface, which allows for the image to clarify over time or obscure itself.

PFAHLER: How do you even achieve a texture like this?

WOLKE: It’s construction sand mixed into gesso. The paint itself is thin, but the texture of the canvas and the surface is almost sculptural. It’s a process of charging the surface with all the scratches in it. It’s almost like a dance, it feels very physical. It must be done immediately because gesso is an acrylic medium, so the drying time is much faster than with oil. So that’s kind of fun because I have to just really work at it within those 45 minutes.

PFAHLER: Oh, amazing.

WOLKE: But everything that you see here is based on actual footage.

PFAHLER: Like film footage?

WOLKE: Yeah. I record my own video clips, but it’s never a full film. What I like about it is that I get to go back into the studio and go back to painting, from collaborative to much more solitary practice.

PFAHLER: Where is your studio?

WOLKE: Long Island City.

PFAHLER: I was there for a long time.

WOLKE: Really?

PFAHLER: I was right next to Matthew Barney’s old studio.

WOLKE: Oh, because that’s right by the water.

PFAHLER: Mm-hmm.

WOLKE: There’s this Balkan restaurant where I had my birthday in August, and we had the most beautiful sunset.PFAHLER: And you’re a Leo too?

WOLKE: I’m an early Virgo.

PFAHLER: We’ll say you’re a Scorpio, or an unpopular sign.

WOLKE: What’s a popular sign? People like Aries, no?

PFAHLER: Aries is difficult for fire signs because they want to lead all the time. These are very fire-like paintings too, besides. It’s an adventure in so many different reds. Red has so many different feelings and meanings. I love Mary Heilmann’s red paintings.

WOLKE: Oh, yeah. 

PFAHLER: And Mary just passed away. She was my mentor and my teacher. She was the first painter I met and studied with in New York. I was so very lucky.

WOLKE: You were studying under her?

PFAHLER: When I was a child, and then I grew up and was in shows with her. We were in the Whitney Biennial together. She has such an incredible relationship to abstraction. It’s always interesting to talk about paintings because there’s so many feelings and emotions, and it’s so intense to do large paintings like this. It’s almost like giving birth to such a universe.

WOLKE: For sure. It’s very physical, especially when the work is larger than your body.

PFAHLER: Oh, man.

WOLKE: I personally like to  go either really small because then you have to do something that just immediately kind of clicks. You can’t really edit as much. It just has to have the right flow. But with a big work, it’s really advanced and becomes like a conversation when you have all these large pieces in the studio. I feel like it’s being in the room with all these different personalities, and they begin talking to you.

PFAHLER: It’s really an accomplishment. And this is such an incredible alien cat monster.

WOLKE: That’s a panther or a black jaguar.

PFAHLER: Really?

WOLKE: Panther is just like a colloquial term, which I learned now because I’ve met all these people that breed and own all these different kinds of big cats.

PFAHLER: Oh, yeah?

WOLKE: This was all shot on a private property in Florida. It’s this man who is very notorious in the big cat world. He’s 72 now, but he started collecting exotic animals in the 80s. He was the real-life Tony Montana.

PFAHLER: I’ve heard about these people. They’ll always say stuff like, “Oh, it’s better than keeping them in zoos, the way I keep them.”

WOLKE: It’s a strange world. But I really wanted to enter that from the perspective of how desire and status are staged within that fantasy of wilderness, because all of the outside property is built as if it were some sort of a jungle.

PFAHLER: Anti-natural. 

WOLKE: Exactly.

PHALER: Wow. How did you find this man and visit him? He must have loved you.

WOLKE: I was having dinner in this members’ club in Coconut Grove, Miami, and this woman approached us, and she said that she has a personal trainer who worked with him. I’d already been researching this for months and trying to get access to some of these people, but it’s very tough. So she connected me and I got a call from this man, and he’s like, “Come tonight.” I didn’t know what to expect because I’m just one woman going into the middle of a Homestead, which is primarily  agricultural land with not much around it. So it was incredibly exciting but scary at the same time. It was nice to see and record at the private zoo during off-hours completely by myself, but technically anyone can visit. What I really was curious about is the exotic animal collection he somewhat famously has at his house, because private big cat ownership is dying out because of a new law put in place in 2022 after Tiger King came out. 

PFAHLER: I’m more team [David] Attenborough. I love this movement to repopulate jaguars and panthers and these big cats into their natural environments. Because they’re fed differently, if they’re reintroduced into their natural environments, they have to be reeducated to learn how to kill naturally and to also breed naturally. And some of them can’t.

WOLKE: I think all of these were born in captivity. And they will never see anything else but these enclosures, which I don’t know how to feel about on a personal level. I mean, I see both sides of it. One is the human side of loving these animals to the point that you’ve built an enclosure for yourself. You kind of lose your own freedom keeping these different species in your house, because you can’t go anywhere.

PFAHLER: Maybe he’ll be eaten by the jaguar. I’m not saying that negatively. Also, you’re not from Florida.

WOLKE: No.

PFAHLER: Florida is one of the most degenerate states. It must be very shocking to see, if you’re not born in the United States.

WOLKE: It was interesting to look at it coming from the Balkans. There’s a bit of that overlap, especially with the Cuban community, in what symbolizes luxury to them, and how they present it. Even though Miami is miles away geographically and culturally, there’s a similarity in flexing wealth and power. 

PFAHLER: But also, Florida has an incredible art tradition and history. There was an incredible piece by Salvador Dalí. He did a lot of intense surrealist activity and exhibited in Florida. The atmosphere is also very surreal. Like the underwater mermaid shows. I don’t know if you’ve seen those.

WOLKE: I’ve heard of them.

PFAHLER: All of the different states are so idiosyncratic and interesting. A lot of artists from my generation would always go to Europe to become more famous. But I just always stayed in the United States touring because I had a deep desire to learn, similar to you.

WOLKE: It’s fascinating to try and tap into someone else’s way of living. I’m really happy that I’m able to do that with my work. It’s not just painting in a studio, there’s a part of this whole thing where I’m really able to be a fly on the wall. It’s maybe a bit remnant of early ‘00s reality TV.

PFAHLER: Is it rude to ask how long you worked on this piece after going to Florida?

WOLKE: The first time I went and researched this topic, I was just curious about what’s left of the old Florida of the ‘70s and ‘80s when so many people, especially the upper crust, had exotic animals as pets. I wanted to know what was left of that world, and there’s not that much. Or if there is, it’s very covert because it’s not cool anymore in the same way. This guy is literally just of that generation. So I first went in January, just to look at a few big cat sanctuaries and do a drive-thru safari. Then in March, I went for three weeks. Going to this man’s private property worked out right at the end, and completely by chance by having dinner at that members’ club. That’s often how these things happen. It’s like you’re struggling and putting the energy elsewhere, and at some point, some higher power goes, “Okay, now it’s happening, you better be ready and pay attention.”

PFAHLER: Totally.

WOLKE: Does that happen to you?

PFAHLER: It does. And it happens kind of like a manifestation of desire and interest. And if you have finely honed your focus to something, doors open that are not so surprising.

WOLKE: It’s not on your own time, I feel. But if you don’t stop, eventually something’s going to kick open. And usually it’s much better than what I think I could possibly get.

PFAHLER: I agree. I think it has to do with paying attention, and not that many artists know about that. I always talk about a liminal phase where you continue gathering and collecting so you get to that door that opens and things end up making sense. But you never know how long that phase is going to be. It could be twenty years, it could be a month, it could be days, it could be hours. I think it’s not up to us, that amount of time. I think the toughest part is resting in a liminal phase. 

WOLKE: It takes a lot of stamina to go through this period when things aren’t happening, you just have to support yourself and believe you’re on the right track. 

PFAHLER: I feel like I could live in these paintings. And I’m not implying that this 70-year-old gentleman is doing anything at all degenerate or mean-spirited, but I always hope for the very best outcome for all of these creatures because they’re magical.

WOLKE: I mean, that’s what I was thinking about. This whole thing for me really started with looking at prehistoric paintings at Chauvet Cave, which is in France. It’s even older than the more famous Lascaux cave. I think it’s about 36,000 BC. And in the end chamber of the cave there is a whole panel with lions, which had a bunch of these red drawings.

PFAHLER: Oh wow.

WOLKE: It has all of these big cats, tigers, lions and so on.

PFAHLER: Oh, you have a small painting too. This one is giving me a bit of a bird feeling. 

WOLKE:  These were originally Michael Jackson’s flamingos from Neverland. The current owner is a collector in a true sense. It’s about provenance for him as well, which I find fascinating.

PFAHLER: Will you please make a book about this show? You should make a book. You have to make a book about this show.

WOLKE: For sure. I didn’t have the stamina that it takes to work on a publication before this show opened because it was so all consuming. 

PFAHLER: Do you make publications for your art shows, generally?

WOLKE: We were talking about it earlier. I mean, it’s going to take a second, but I think even if it comes out later it doesn’t matter.

PFAHLER: Maybe someone can help you with it too. Have four or five different people talk about your work, and have the gentleman before he passes away, as a 72-year-old person. I just think that it’s so important to document and historicize these things with books.

WOLKE: It’s true.

PFAHLER: I try hard to make publications of every single show I’ve ever done, and I’ve only been able to do four or five of them.

WOLKE: I feel like you’re very good at putting things together.

PFAHLER: Hopefully your show can travel places too.

WOLKE: It would make sense because a lot of narrative goes into this, but I don’t expect the paintings to be the sole narrative. I don’t want them to feel like a logical filmstrip.

PFAHLER: It’s an honor and a privilege to get to spend time with someone who gets to talk about their work. I always say, getting to talk to an artist about what they do is my glamorous vacation.

The post Artists Nana Wolke and Kembra Pfahler on Florida’s Exotic Underbelly appeared first on Interview Magazine.