David: The first time I really looked at your work was when you gave me your book Baghave. What impressed me about those drawings was that though they were very direct and intuitive, they still retained a graphic sophistication. They are obviously the work of somebody who can draw. In my drawings I think I am trying to simplify everything as much as I possibly can to the extent where a lot of the time I just use words instead of pictures. In Baghave there is almost no text. Perhaps this means I am a conceptual artist and you are a painter?

Tal: From the age of almost no age and until I was eighteen I was always drawing. The practice of drawing whatever came into my mind was an activity with no name, it was just something I did. I drew when I was at school without thinking about it;   teacher talking; me drawing; teacher not talking; me not drawing. Around the age of eighteen I entered art school and stopped drawing in this way.   Then ten years later I became curious to see if I could still draw some of my old acquaintances such as loudspeakers, weapons, genitals, ore, an old fruit tree, etc. I guess the lack of words inside the drawings is because of the escapist nature of the work. Drawing is a language in itself.

D: We both have a lot of admiration for the paintings of Philip Guston. What I find fascinating about Guston is that he went from being a (very successful) abstract expressionist to making figurative paintings of the KKK (apparently) overnight (to the short term detriment of his career). I'm sure I would love his paintings anyway, but knowing this story really captures my imagination when I am thinking about the work. It's as if the earlier abstract paintings that were so pretty were actually embrionic Klansmen smeared over the canvas waiting to take form. What is it that appeals to you about Guston?

T: What I love the most about Guston is a story that perhaps illustrates your idea (though it might not be true). I heard that he always made a small mountain of paint in front of the canvas.

To imagine a mountain of paint and an empty canvas brings tears to my eyes.

Looking at Guston's early war paintings and late KKK paintings you see that the only difference between them is a mountain of paint.

The stupidity of artists is that they are always creating problems then spending half a lifetime in finding solutions.

The first thing I love about Guston was the way he put things into categories.

The other thing I like is the way he placed figures on the canvas.

Maybe he spent most of his time running away from his handwriting.

My number one favourite thing about Mr.Guston's paintings is the smoke.

Smoke in the face of the lord, painting like a last spoiled act before the great gap. I think Guston's sensual manner of painting became a burden to him. Perhaps the beautiful painting prevents us from seeing the more interesting, gruesome nature of the images. For me the essence of Guston is his smoke pyramids and swimming alone at last.

D: How do you feel about using English text in your work? In an ideal world where everyone could understand Danish would you be more adventurous with the text that you use?

T: I like words and titles to swallow themselves. They should sound like your neighbour who has poor language skills so that when he is speaking you fill the gaps for him because you are polite. You study his face like it was a pizza. You listen closely and you are lost, happy and fully informed.

I grew up with an almost forgotten language (Hebrew) that I did not fully understand so I've never worried about mistakes and misunderstandings in what I write. Writing correctly is over-rated. In painting one has to give in to stupidity.

D: I did some collaborative drawings with Yoshitomo Nara a few years ago. It was an interesting experience, though I think my interest in his work stems from the fact that I don't understand it. You recently did a collaborative exhibition with Jonathan Meese. How do you feel about the results? How do you feel about the drawings we have done together?

T: The workshop I did with Jonathan is slightly embarrassing because it never took place.   We worked with mad and outdated ideas such as trust

so we built a mighty mother castle together but we never discussed it in any way.

Our drawing book is a great zig-zag between me doing you and you doing me and all the wonderful misunderstandings in-between. There is at least one masterpiece: a half-asleep dwarf in the window of Sir Hamlet's castle. Another masterpiece, maybe even more masterful is the drawing of a giant fish eating a giant smiling penis. I think it is monumental; like Wagner entering Atlantis.