Mrs. Crump

I received an unexpected call last week from Jeri Fouts of Oregon. I have never met her, but she happens to be the granddaughter of a woman pictured in a lithograph I made in 1983.

Crump Cleaners, 1983
lithograph on paper. 30" x 44"
Edition of 24; 2 available

While attending CSULB in the late 70's, I passed this Anaheim Boulevard cleaners on my commute through Long Beach. Each morning the proprietor was there, in a red sweater, drinking coffee and reading the paper. The scene looked like an Edward Hopper painting to me, with the lone figure and the long shadows on the building. A few years later I was passing by and there she still was, in the same position, as if time had stopped. I had my camera with me and took a photo, which I used as a reference for the lithograph.

It hung in my friend Rick's restaurant in San Pedro for several years. One day a surprised couple told Rick they knew the building and the woman in the picture. They were Jeri's mother- and father-in-law. More of the family came by to see it and they purchased one from a nearby gallery that carried my prints. This was 25 years ago.

I was thrilled to get the call from Jeri, who now owns the lithograph. She had a few questions, and she told me more about her grandmother. Her name was Merle Crump, but her family called her Princess. She and her husband owned the cleaners and the house in back of it, where they raised Jeri's mother. Merle did indeed enjoy her coffee and paper each morning, so much so that after her husband passed away and the business was closed, she still came into the shop each morning to have her coffee, read her paper, and visit with neighbors.

There are so many coincidences and connections here, but one detail Jeri shared with me gives me chills: The day her in-laws discovered the picture in Rick's restaurant was the anniversary of Merle's death.

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