Vanity Fair has the personal anecdote of a young woman, Genevieve Bahrenburg, whose chance meeting with Chuck Close on the street turned into a tour of his studio, his art collection and, eventually, a chance to sit for him:
It turns out he—wisely—doesn’t invite just anyone off the street into his studio. Inside, natural light streamed in from a skylight and bounced off the white walls to illuminate a very large, still-wet oil painting of artist Cindy Sherman (that was the paint smudged on Chuck’s apron). There was also a series of eight Polaroids of Barack Obama in various stages of smiling, a wall-size self-portrait woven tapestry, a watercolor print of his beautiful artist girlfriend, pictures of Julianne Moore and Brad Pitt, and a daguerreotype of naked and soulful Kate Moss. […] He then asked if I would like to see his personal collection at his apartment down the street, where he guided me through a treasure trove of art history’s heaviest hitters—from Willem de Kooning to Andy Warhol to Jasper Johns to Brice Marden, before showing me portraits by Anthony van Dyck and Tintoretto among many other Dutch, Flemish, and Italian old master paintings.