The Renaissance Man: An Interview with Dr. Peter Weller

“Delivering knowledge and experience to youth is truly the only gig worth a damn.”

From Dr. Buckaroo Banzai to Officer Alex Murphy, writer William S. Burroughs to architect Frank Lloyd Wright, not only has actor Peter Weller performed on stage and screen but also brought to life a healthy mix of fantastical characters and real-life architects of the imagination. He has gone on to direct (and star in) some of the best television out there; including episodes of House, Dexter, Sons of Anarchy and Justified… but, in true Buckaroo fashion, cinema is merely one dimension he explores; often flexing his muscles as a jazz musician and art historian, having become a Professor in “Italian Renaissance Art History” in 2014.

The 14-year-old in me is screaming “Robocop!” and prime directives*, but the lecturer (and fellow "cultural addict") wants to discuss something more deep-rooted in lead up to the release of his new book Leon Battista Alberti in Exile: Tracing the Path to the First Modern Book on Painting. Dr. Weller’s passion for art is unmistakable and I was deeply honoured — as both a cinephile and fellow educator — to discuss where his love of art and its influence began…

It’s interesting to hear how Ali McGraw cracked your head open with art, dating back to an epiphany at MoMA’s landmark exhibit “Picasso: A Retrospective” in 1980. I’m interested to hear more about how this love of art grew until you felt the need to work towards your Ph.D.

Ali MacGraw was immersed in a New York literature/art scene due to her attendance at Wellesley and her work as a stylist. She insisted I go and see the Picasso exhibit at the MoMA, which, I believe, was the largest ever assembled. Once you're walked through the entire Picasso arc — from figurative realism to abstract — one is — as the art historian E.H. Gombrich suggested — now inured to “the story of art”. Having grown up hearing about Italy from my parents; I was surely not going. However, Ali also recommended the Amalfi Coast after we saw John Schlesinger’s 1965 film Darling on late-night TV, wherein Julie Christie goes there. I asked: “Where’s that?” Ali responded with something (I recall) that wagered my parents had never been there. Thus… off I went... and I've never looked back.

I specifically loved your reference to Gombrich on the Kevin Pollack Chat Show back in 2012 where you referred to individuals “knowing what they like”, Gombrich having responded with: “You don’t know what you like. You like what you know.” It sums up so perfectly about learning and discovery; how a good tutor/mentor takes you by the hand and shows you art. “Anyone who can handle a needle convincingly can make us see a thread which is not there.” Gombrich’s words always have so much clarity, his writings such a perfect (and unpretentious) entry point…

Gombrich’s The Story of Art was my true intro as a Johnny-come-lately to the pictures ‘scene’. As much as I was exposed to contemporary art by Ali and embarrassed into going to look at Giotto — “Giotto?.. never heard of him” — by Vittorio Storaro, it was picking up The Story of Art and Gombrich's articles — along with Leo Steinberg’s writing. All of this, along with my friendships with Walter Liedtke of the Metropolitan Museum in New York and Maria Conelli of FIT and the American Folk Art Museum and Brooklyn College, opened many doors (and windows!)

Jazz Man. Weller is an accomplished trumpet player.

You seemed to have had great parents exposing you to a mix of brutal history lessons and an appreciation of music and the arts. They both had a distinct influence on you: your military father giving you “One of the greatest gifts” in showing you the remains of Dachau during the late ’50s and your mother with her love of jazz music and the arts. Here, we are referring to your later discovery of art and humanist theory, but the seed was surely planted early on, right?

Yes. I weep sometimes, remembering my dad and mom taking me away from baseball practice to drive to Dachau in 1959 and seeing the box cars, ovens, shower stalls, barracks, and commander’s quarters. By then it was all overgrown with weeds and surrounded by UN barbed wire fences with machine gun nests to protect it from destruction until Germany got its civil rights (and conscience) back and decided what to do with it.

Seeing is believing. Before moving to Texas, Weller spent several years of his childhood in Germany in which he was shown the remains of Dachau by his father.

I am fortunate that during the shooting of Robocop in Dallas, I visited my father in Fort Worth and, while playing lawn darts with him, thanked him for making me a human being. My mother on the other hand gave me jazz, opera, civil rights and a world conscience of how to behave with a modicum of humility (which is still hard for me.)

“I weep sometimes, remembering my dad and mom taking me away from baseball practice to drive to Dachau and seeing the box cars, ovens, shower stalls, barracks,

and commander’s quarters.”

― Peter Weller

If I recall, your father also had a history degree.

Yes. From the University of Wisconsin (I think).

Having explored contemporary art, what was it that made you want to go further back to the Renaissance period for your studies?

At the International Film Festival of Japan in Kyoto, the judges were the great cinematographer Vittorio Storaro (Apocalypse Now, The Last Emperor), the great Orion Pictures head/producer Mike Medavoy (Robocop) and the great actress Jean Morea (Jules and Jim). I asked Vittorio who his favourite painter was and he asked if I had ever been to Padua to see Giotto’s frescoes in the Cappella Scrovegni which displays the first true narrative of depth, colour, emotion, and light-framed as a wrap-around film on the lives of Mary and Jesus in a space only thirty yards long. A work that has influenced every artist from Leonardo to Rothko.

Awakenings. Along with other artists' work, Italian painter and architect Giotto di Bondone's frescoes adorn the interior of Scrovegni Chapel; aka the "Arena Chapel" built on the site of an ancient Roman arena (or amphitheatre).

I had never heard of Giotto before and had never been to Padua. Storaro flipped his Versace scarf and said, “Well, Peter, we cannot talk about art.” I was levelled. My friend and I — noted photojournalist and film poster/set photographer Brian Hamill (Raging Bull, Tootisie) — immediately went to Padua from Venice at Christmas, sat in that chapel for over an hour (nowadays you have 15 minutes) and had our minds and sensibilities handed back to us… completely levelled.

Having had such epiphanies over the years, has it led you to a favourite Renaissance artist… and is there a particular work of art you feel epitomises the period?

My favourite, on whom I have presented papers — and will again this month in Boston at the Renaissance Society of America (RSA) — is Antonello da Messina. In my opinion, after Giotto (and perhaps, Masaccio), da Messina is the real-deal realist of oil painting anywhere. His Virgin Annunciate in Palermo (c. 1476) — now, rightfully, compared with Leonardo’s Mona Lisa — Saint Jerome in His Study (c. 1475), the Ecce Homo (1470-1475) series, and other portraits are the liveliest and most moving pictures in my experience… until Caravaggio.  

Christ and Renaissance. Antonello da Messina's series of paintings Ecce Homo (1470-1475).

Your thesis “Alberti Before Florence: Early Sources Informing Leon Battista Alberti’s De Pictura” explores the writing of the Renaissance humanist Leon Battista Alberti. Could you summarise (to those reading) how he epitomized being a polymath?

Prodigy poet, playwright, architect, painter, and humanist savant Leon Battista Alberti emerged in 1435 with De pictura (On Painting); the modern era’s earliest discourse on Western art, written in classical Latin by an ostensible practitioner of the craft. Alberti has captivated the art world from his own epoch to ours, and his dubious Florentine identity enables this allure.

My book, Leon Battista Alberti in Exile: Tracing the Path to the First Modern Book on Painting, challenges the popular notion that De pictura’s compendium on lines, points, mathematics, composition, narrative, and portraiture is primarily the result of Alberti’s return to Florence and his short exposure to its visual art. I argue that Rome, Padua, Bologna, and northern Europe ― environs where Alberti studied, worked, and lived during exile ― empowered his paramount intellectual-artistic gift. Scrutiny of Alberti’s evolution before Florence illuminates how this original Renaissance man merged the two most conspicuous cultural developments of early modern Italy ― visual art and humanism ― to create De pictura, which was our first modern book on painting.

Which filmmakers (past or present) would you consider polymaths?

My mentors and friends with whom I worked: Mike Nichols (The Graduate, Catch-22) and Sydney Lumet (Serpico, Network) were certainly versed in music, poetry, art, architecture and onward. They were both also remarkable raconteurs. I could (and did) sit and listen to their verve and enthusiasm regarding art and literature all night long.

“I certainly understand (in retrospect) Paul Verhoeven, Lumet, Nichols and other director’s ideas better since immersing myself in the literature of antiquity (humanism).”

― Peter Weller

My understanding is that you developed a curriculum at Syracuse University called “Hollywood and the Roman Empire”, which you also delivered, along with further lectures including “The Crisis of Beauty” at Culture Lab Detroit in 2018. Do you still lecture?

I have a graduate workshop on “Directing Actors for Film” at UCLA. I also teach a class on “Italian Film” for Rocky Ruggiero’s webinars on “The Renaissance”. I would like to do more!

It’s incredible to hear how encouraging you are to younger people. How important is it for you to impart your knowledge of the arts to the youth?

Delivering knowledge and experience to youth is truly the only gig worth a damn.

As well as your theatre background, understanding how much you also appreciate art makes so much more sense in how you have learned to break things down. Especially in terms of a challenging performance. A perfect reference would be your Robocop suit and how Moni Yakim’s advice as a movement instructor (photo: Yakim [left] and Weller [right]) led to some wonderful touchstones to help guide you through what became such an iconic role. You dig deeper and we end up connecting Sergei Eisenstein’s epic two-parter Ivan the Terrible (1945) — specifically actor Nikolay Cherkasov’s exaggerated movements — remarkable. Surely a prime example of how important it is to study any form of art whether it’s low or highbrow? That one form of art may inspire (or help solve) any other.

I had no idea who Cherkasov was until Moni rented that film and I watched it… four days in a row. I'm reminded of Elia Kazan (often stepping in for Lee Strasberg) during an actor’s session at the Actor’s Studio, who once said to us (something to the effect of): that if we’re putting our lives on ‘hold’ for our careers — e.g. not travelling, taking that art class, learning something for fun, or whatever — that we were ripping off our work with lack of input and experience. That our work was about everything in our lives except our careers!”

"Juilliard’s Secret Weapon". As a movement teacher Moni Yakim's students have also included Meryl Streep, Adam Driver, Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain, who you can watch in conversation via the SAG-AFTRA Foundation.

Following on from this, your interest in “humanism” also makes complete sense having played Alex Murphy. Do you feel that understanding (Renaissance) art has helped you understand the soul of the characters you have played?

I certainly understand (in retrospect) Paul Verhoeven, Lumet, Nichols and other director’s ideas better since immersing myself in the literature of antiquity (humanism).

Genre Man. As Bart Hughes in George P. Cosmatos' OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN (1983), Alex Murphy in Paul Verhoeven's ROBOCOP (1987), William S. Burroughs in David Cronenberg's THE NAKED LUNCH (1991) and Commander Joseph A. Hendricksson in Christian Duguay's SCREAMERS (1995).

I’m fascinated to hear more about you acting as Frank Lloyd Wright on stage in the play Frank’s Home. This must have been a dream role having such a love of architecture.

Playing FLW was an ambivalence non-pareil. Hard to stay away from the ego that took him to transforming the 20th-century ideal of architecture. But a privilege to play that American genius in Richard Nelson’s heartbreaker play (directed by Robert Falls) — at both the Goodman Theatre in Chicago and Playwrights Horizons in New York — with Harris Yulin and Maggie Siff. 

You have summarised in the past that paintings are “nothing more than a movie on a wall” — I’m reminded of the flickering flame bringing a hunt back to life from those ancient cave paintings in Herzog’s Cave of Forgotten Dreams (2010). How do you feel a great painting conveys so much in a single image; especially when it comes to storytelling?

I imagine when someone of the late 1400s Florence walked into the Sassetti Chapel and saw all the famous Medici done by Ghirlandaio, and they would go: “Look at that! Oh that’s so and so…” and would go and tell all their neighbours. Whether they knew the story is another thing; but, once again, the Giotto frescoes in Padua is a real-deal movie and Alberti must have had his mind blown as much as me and Brian Hamill.

Has your understanding of art enhanced your understanding of the movies over the years?

Framing, colour, drama. Hung in his home parish, the Madonna dell'Orto in Venice, when one sees Tintoretto’s 18 mil low shot of the woman pointing up the stairs at the young Mary in the Presentation of the Virgin (c. 1551-1556) one knows that movies have developed out of paintings.

The power of art. Presentation of the Virgin (c. 1551-1556).

What was the last work of art you bought?

A rare Pokémon Emerald for my son, Teddy.

"Gotta catch 'em all!" Oh, that’s glorious. How often do you return to Italy?

Three months a year. I'll go to Italy if it is cloudy or your birthday — any excuse to visit.

It's a stunning part of the world. I’ve enjoyed the snippets, including your reflections and words on art so far via Instagram. This chat has been a dream both as a fan of your work and an appreciator of art and I wish you all the best with the book, Peter.

Thank you, Rich.

Leon Battista Alberti in Exile: Tracing the Path to the First Modern Book on Painting is released in the UK on March 6th from Cambridge University Press and in the US (date TBC). Pre-Order here. For updates, art snippets and reflections from Peter you can follow him on Instagram @drpeterweller.

While you're here, why not watch Peter on the History Channel series Engineering an Empire (2005-2007). In this episode, "Age of Architects", amongst other Renaissance men, he introduces us to his subject Leon Battista Alberti.

Check out the superb documentary series RoboDoc: The Creation of Robocop (2023) available on Blu-ray.

"No one understands Buckaroo..."

*Okay… here’s an anecdote at least: If you were anything like me at school back in the late ‘80s you were often watching movies (repeatedly) that were perhaps deemed a little “inappropriate”. I’m originally from an art and design background, which has always been fuelled by my obsession with cinema and comic books. At school, all I cared about was drawing and acting out scenes from my favourite movies. So, walking around the classroom as Robocop was the norm. A teacher once shouted: “Johnson!” To which I froze, and turned my head Murphy-style, “Come quietly… or there will be trouble.” He beckoned with his finger, half smiling.