Eating My Hat

Ah, the 70's.

This is a self portrait from college done in the style of Rembrandt, using an old glazing technique to make the most out of simple earth colors from that period: Raw Sienna, Indian Red and Ivory Black. I tried to match the lighting Rembrandt used, and because he always had something on his head in his self portraits, I wore THE HAT

Self Portrait with Suede Cap,  1979
oil on canvas, 24" x 18"
Artist's Collection

It was a two-dollar cap I bought in Ensenada. I thought it looked really cool but I didn't wear it much because it wasn't very comfortable. My brother John discovered it and began to wear it a lot. He had longer hair and it really flattered him. It also looked great on girls. He loaned it to a few of them without asking, and it began to disappear for long periods of time. I should have just given it to him, but instead I got jealous. We had a big argument and I forbade him to ever touch it again.

He complied until an opportunity for revenge presented itself on a family vacation in Yosemite. We were quite a large group, and one afternoon most of the gang took a side trip to see the giant sequoias. I stayed behind, but traded cars with John because mine sat more people. The hat was forgotten under the seat. Who could blame him? John went on a photographic spree, shooting everyone in the hat--our sisters, friends, our parents; even the Mariposa tram driver--before returning it to its hiding place.They all kept quiet until a picture party later in the summer. John put on a slide show and as the hat pictures appeared one by one, everyone started applauding. I was furious at first but by the end of the series I was on the floor laughing. It was such a comeuppance! I had to (ahem) take my hat off to him

I painted the self portrait later that year. I like to think I had the last word on the hat but by now you've stopped reading and you're checking out John's adorable pictures of 70's babes. There are some arguments you can't win.

Mary, Liz and Lois were but a few who modeled my hat for John

Yosemite tram driver

Our parents. Mom looks like she's feeling a little guilty.

My brothers with my hat (and my Volvo). What's with the matching outfits?

Impressions from a Past Life

When I first left college I worked mostly in lithography, drawing on limestone blocks and aluminum plates and printing by hand with a used press my father bought me. It's such a beautiful medium, combining the delicacy of drawing with the richness of oil-based inks. It's also very demanding and I eventually gave it up for painting, but the beauty of printmaking is that I still have some of these editions.

Captive Palms, 1982
Lithograph on paper, 22" x 30"
Edition Available

Mono Lake II,  1984
Lithograph on paper, 30" x 22"
Artist Proof Available

Mono Lake V,  1984
Lithograph on paper, 22" x 30"
Edition Available

Mono Lake VII, 1984
Lithograph on paper, 22" x 30"
Artist Proof Available

LA River Patterns

The LA River was transformed into a concrete flood control channel in the 1930's, but it cannot be tamed completely. Silt deposits form islands on the shallow bed which breed algea and insects, attracting birds and other wildlife. Trucks add their wheel ruts to the design. Heavy rains wash it all away in winter but the process starts over again each spring. 

LA River VIII,  2013
Oil on linen, 36" x 54"
Availalbe

This is a view looking south from the Wardlow Road Bridge on an August afternoon.

The 6th Street Viaduct

This is a view from 7th Street on a drizzly summer morning, with the historic 6th Street Viaduct in the background. I recently learned that this grand old bridge is due for demolition. Inherent structural flaws make it impossible to keep it in repair. I want to spend more time photographing and painting it before this happens.

LA River VII, 2013
Oil on linen, 24" x 30'
Available

The proposed new bridge is sleek and modern and leaves me a bit cold, but that's probably what artists said about this current one when it was built in 1932.

The Beginning of the LA River.

The headwaters are somewhere in Northridge, but for me, my paintings of the river began at its end, in Long Beach. I recently had these earlier pieces photographed.

This is a view from the bike path where I often take an evening walk.

LA River 2, 2009
Oil on linen, 24" x 42"
Available

Here is the spot, just south of the Willow Blvd. bridge, where the concrete ends and the tidal marsh begins.

LA River 3, 2010
Oil on linen, 24" x 36"
Available

A New Piece

Yellow Tablecloth, 2013
Oil on linen, 24" x 36"
Available

Dirty Socks

On my way to the Sierras for a family vacation in 1984, I stopped for breakfast in Olancha and found an old postcard of a swimming pool on the Owens lakebed, with '50's-era bathing beauties in a desert oasis. I had driven this road for years and I had never heard of it. The card explained that the pool was called "Dirty Socks" because in olden days miners would wash their clothes in the hot-spring that fed it. It said it was 5 miles east of Olancha.

On my way home I made the detour and drove 5 miles toward Death Valley. The pool was indeed there, in a state of disrepair and surrounded by junk. A sulfur smell told me the story about miners doing laundry was a lie. Still, the group that was swimming seemed to be enjoying it, even though they seemed oblivious to the the beauty of the afternoon light on the Sierra backdrop.

I made this painting in San Pedro the following year from slides I took that day. My brother John bought it  before it was finished, though he let me exhibit it for a while. He sent me this photo today, and I'm happy to have it. I wish I still had the postcard too.

Greetings from Dirty Socks, 1995
Oil on canvas, 30" x 60"
Collection: John and Debi Corso