Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Chuck Close and 10 Amazing Photorealist Painters: Alison Van Pelt, Jason de Graaf, Paul Cadden, etc. by Jason de Graaf
Photorealism, also known as Super-Realism,
New Realism, Sharp Focus Realism or Hyper-Realism, involves artists
employing photographs to create their paintings. The style evolved out
of Pop art as a sort of resistance to Abstract Expression and Minimalism
in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Photorealist artists create works
that are hyper illusionistic; compelling viewers to wonder and marvel at
the work’s resemblance to reality. Employing a variety of techniques
artists seek to generate paintings with a high level of representational
verisimilitude. Photo realists use the camera or photographs to gather
information. They may also rely on a mechanical device to transfer the
image to the canvas, such as a projector, though the artist still
requires a high level of skill to complete the work. Usually employing
multiple photographs, artists involved with the style are interested in
technical or pictorial challenges that might include unique surfaces or
textures.
Pioneers of the movement include painters
such as Richard Estes, Robert Bechtle and Tom Blackwell. One of the
best-known photorealist painters, Chuck Close,
works using a gridded photograph. A spinal artery collapse in 1988
left Close severely paralyzed. After the injury Close continued to
paint, creating large portraits in low-resolution grid squares created
by an assistant. From afar, these squares appear as a unified image,
but in pixelated form.
Today there are a myriad of artists practicing photorealism including Alison Van Pelt, Paul Cadden, David Kassan, Gregory Thielker, Diego Fazio, Bryan Drury, Jason de Graaf, and Ben Weiner .
With the advancement of technology, contemporary photo realist artists
are able to achieve paintings that exceed the capabilities of
photography—capturing details the lens may not, or achieving an
extraordinary level of precision. Often these photo realists are
referred to as hyperrealists as the images resemble one, or an
amalgamation of, high-resolution photographs. Inspiring and impressive,
photo realists’ works tease the imagination and challenge perception.
by Jason de Graaf
by Jason de Graaf
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
The Art of Elysium - Pieces of Heaven - Benefit Art Auction partnered with Paddle 8 and Christie's Los Angeles
The Art of Elysium’s 2013 Pieces of Heaven Auction has partnered with Paddle 8 and Christie's Los Angeles
The Art of Elysium’s 6th Annual Pieces of Heaven charity art auction reflects the individual journey each participating artist takes and expresses through their chosen medium. All proceeds raised from artwork sold at Pieces of Heaven will benefit The Art of Elysium’s Fine Arts program; Elysium Project: a platform that merges contemporary art with philanthropy. The Art of Elysium is committed to supporting emerging, mid-career and established artists through discerning art exhibitions, public art initiatives and special events, while simultaneously creating the infrastructure to ensure that medically disabled children have access to quality, educational and therapeutic arts experiences. The Art of Elysium, a non-profit founded in 1997, encourages working actors, artists and musicians to volunteer their time and talent to children who are battling serious medical conditions.
Participating artists for Pieces of Heaven include 2wenty, Ansel Adams, David Arquette, Samuel Bayer, Adarsha Benjamin, Mattia Biagi, Pete Black, Stella Blu, Mr. Brainwash, Matthew Brandt, Steve Burtch, Scott Caan, David Caruso & Alan Locke, Victor Castillo, Eric Hayden French Circuns, Gilles D’amecourt, Charlotte De Cock, Beau Dunn, Steve Erle, David Fahey, Shepard Fairey, Ben Folds, Elisabeth Fried, Friends With You, James Georgopoulos, Brian Graf, Emilie Halpern, Daniel J. Healey, David Hendren, Patrick Hoelck, Todd Hido, Ernest Holzman, Alvaro Ilizarbe, Hellin Kay, Terence Koh, Curtis Kulig, Mark Leibowitz, Laura Letinsky, John Lurie, Aaron Garber-Maikovska, Michael Miller, Michael Muller, Ben Murphey, Aiko Nakagawa, Waleska Nomura, How and Nosm, Quam Odunsi, Dennis Oppenheim, Chris Otcasek, Cheryl Pope, Alex Prager, Vanessa Prager, Carlos Davila Rinaldi, Mariah Robertson, Bert Rodriguez, James Rosenquist, Howard Ruby, Sarah Sandin, Alessandra Sanguinetti, John Patrick Salisbury, Steve Shaw, Gregory Siff, Melvin Sokolsky, Lisa Solberg, Cole Sternberg, Donald Sultan, Joseph Szabo, Holly Thoburn, Carlo Van de Roer, Alison Van Pelt, James Verbicky, Kelly Wearstler, Rachel Perry Welty, Xvala, Russell Young, Alexander Yulish
The Art of Elysium’s 6th Annual Pieces of Heaven charity art auction reflects the individual journey each participating artist takes and expresses through their chosen medium. All proceeds raised from artwork sold at Pieces of Heaven will benefit The Art of Elysium’s Fine Arts program; Elysium Project: a platform that merges contemporary art with philanthropy. The Art of Elysium is committed to supporting emerging, mid-career and established artists through discerning art exhibitions, public art initiatives and special events, while simultaneously creating the infrastructure to ensure that medically disabled children have access to quality, educational and therapeutic arts experiences. The Art of Elysium, a non-profit founded in 1997, encourages working actors, artists and musicians to volunteer their time and talent to children who are battling serious medical conditions.
Participating artists for Pieces of Heaven include 2wenty, Ansel Adams, David Arquette, Samuel Bayer, Adarsha Benjamin, Mattia Biagi, Pete Black, Stella Blu, Mr. Brainwash, Matthew Brandt, Steve Burtch, Scott Caan, David Caruso & Alan Locke, Victor Castillo, Eric Hayden French Circuns, Gilles D’amecourt, Charlotte De Cock, Beau Dunn, Steve Erle, David Fahey, Shepard Fairey, Ben Folds, Elisabeth Fried, Friends With You, James Georgopoulos, Brian Graf, Emilie Halpern, Daniel J. Healey, David Hendren, Patrick Hoelck, Todd Hido, Ernest Holzman, Alvaro Ilizarbe, Hellin Kay, Terence Koh, Curtis Kulig, Mark Leibowitz, Laura Letinsky, John Lurie, Aaron Garber-Maikovska, Michael Miller, Michael Muller, Ben Murphey, Aiko Nakagawa, Waleska Nomura, How and Nosm, Quam Odunsi, Dennis Oppenheim, Chris Otcasek, Cheryl Pope, Alex Prager, Vanessa Prager, Carlos Davila Rinaldi, Mariah Robertson, Bert Rodriguez, James Rosenquist, Howard Ruby, Sarah Sandin, Alessandra Sanguinetti, John Patrick Salisbury, Steve Shaw, Gregory Siff, Melvin Sokolsky, Lisa Solberg, Cole Sternberg, Donald Sultan, Joseph Szabo, Holly Thoburn, Carlo Van de Roer, Alison Van Pelt, James Verbicky, Kelly Wearstler, Rachel Perry Welty, Xvala, Russell Young, Alexander Yulish
The Art of Elysium's main focus is to create the infrastructure to ensure that medically disabled children have access to the very best therapeutic and educational arts experiences, while supporting upcoming, mid-career and well-established artists with the help of special events, art exhibitions and public art initiatives.
In 1997 The Art of Elysium, a non-profit was founded to help children who are battling serious medical conditions with the help of the talent and volunteer time of artists, actors and musicians.
Guests kicked off the night with live entertainment, CIROC Vodka cocktails and hors d’oeuvres as they had the opportunity to bid on over 70 works of art. In support of the charity, these very same artworks were donated by private collectors, dealers and artists. However, in benefit of The Art of Elysium Project the rather unique artwork was available for purchase during a live and silent auction by Auctioneer Andrea Fiuczynski and in partnership with Christie’s.
The organization was pleased that many artists showed great support by each buying 3-4 pieces of artwork by other artists, while others really out did themselves by making the highest bid of the night which was $10,000 for a Shepard Fairey piece. Throughout the night guests enjoyed taking pictures in front of a backdrop of all the artists’ faces created by Gregory Stiff. David Arquette even joined in on the bidding of a Beau Dunn’s photograph of Barbie in hopes to win a gift for his daughter Coco, but sadly was outbid. He did win the bid on the painting by Alison Van Pelt.
The guests included Eugene Sadovoy, Cameron Silver, Abigail Spencer, Jason Statham, Kate Upton, Alicia Witt, David Arquette, Topher Grace, Alice Gretczyn, Shanola Hampton, Rachael Harris and many more. Plus participating artists for Pieces of Heaven included David Caruso & Alan Locke, Victor Castillo, Eric Hayden French Circuns, Gilles D’amecourt, Charlotte De Cock, Beau Dunn, Steve Erle, David Fahey, Shepard Fairey, Ben Folds, Elisabeth Fried, Friends With You, James Georgopoulos, Brian Graf, Emilie Halpern, Daniel J. Healey, David Hendren, Patrick Hoelck, Todd Hido, Ernest Holzman, Alvaro Ilizarbe, Hellin Kay, Terence Koh, Curtis Kulig, Mark Leibowitz, 2wenty, Ansel Adams, David Arquette, Samuel Bayer, Adarsha Benjamin, Mattia Biagi, Pete Black, Stella Blu, Mr. Brainwash, Matthew Brandt, Steve Burtch, Scott Caan, Laura Letinsky, John Lurie, Aaron Garber-Maikovska, Michael Miller, Michael Muller, Ben Murphey, Aiko Nakagawa, Waleska Nomura, How and Nosm, Quam Odunsi, Dennis Oppenheim, Chris Otcasek, Cheryl Pope, Alex Prager, Vanessa Prager, Carlos Davila Rinaldi, Mariah Robertson, Bert Rodriguez, Alison Van Pelt, James Verbicky, Kelly Wearstler, Rachel Perry Welty, Xvala, Russell Young, Alexander Yulish, James Rosenquist, Howard Ruby, Sarah Sandin , Alessandra Sanguinetti, John Patrick Salisbury, Steve Shaw, Gregory Siff, Melvin Sokolsky, Lisa Solberg, Cole Sternberg, Donald Sultan, Joseph Szabo, Holly Thoburn, and Carlo Van de Roer.
Monday, November 4, 2013
Ports of Entry: William Burroughs, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, cover art by Alison Van Pelt, portrait of William Burroughs, oil on canvas
Ports of Entry: William Burroughs and the Arts. The book accompanies the eponymous exhibition curated by Robert Sobiezek at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, held July to October, 1996, cover art by Alison Van Pelt.
William Burroughs and the Arts: Ports of Entry book cover.
"Nothing is True - Everything is Permitted - - Last words, Hassan I Sabbah", Nova Express.
published by Los Angeles County Museum of Art, distributed by Thames & Hudson.
(c) 1996 by Museum Associates LA County Museum of Art.
Cover image by Alison Van Pelt, William Burroughs, 1992, Oil on canvas.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
LA CONFIDENTIAL, ALISON VAN PELT by GILLIAN WYNN
A Drink & Some Ink
By Gillian Wynn
Read more at http://la-confidential-magazine.com/living/articles/a-drink-and-some-ink#0eZBPoZ0TqolfUdE.99
A Drink & Some Ink
By Gillian Wynn
Read more at http://la-confidential-magazine.com/living/articles/a-drink-and-some-ink#0eZBPoZ0TqolfUdE.99
A DRINK AND SOME INK BY GILLIAN WYNN
To mark the anniversary, earlier in the day I convince Alison to come with me to Ink Monkey Tattoo in Venice because she is a brilliant painter. But before I go under the buzzing needle, I visit her studio/home in Santa Monica Canyon to see her work for the first time. Her large canvases immediately draw me in. While the images are soft and unfocused—even impressionistic— there is an underlying sense of exactitude and realism. When Alison explains her technique to me, it makes perfect sense. She meticulously maps out and sketches an image, rendering it with surgical precision. The deliberate blurring comes later in the painting process. The effect is both academic and poetic—perfectionism pursued, achieved, then abandoned. I love it.
Before we leave her studio, we make preparations for the creation of a different kind of art. We print out the words for my tattoo in a font that I have chosen and Alison has approved.
On our way to Venice, we stop at Urth Caffé on Main Street. Over lunch I ask Alison about growing up in LA and becoming an artist. What she tells me is a classic bohemian tale beautifully braided with history. Her grandmother owned a five-story mansion in the Hollywood Hills that was built at the turn of the century and was once surrounded by orange groves. When Alison was a small child, her father went to live on a commune, and she and her mother moved into the mansion with her grandmother and three “brilliant scientist” uncles. Several years later, when her father returned, they moved to Venice, where everyone grew their own vegetables (among other things) and the children ran around barefoot all the time. A child hippie, Alison was even practicing yoga by age five (her father was legendary yogi Ganga White’s attorney). By high school, however, Alison was living a more conventional life in Pacific Palisades, earning straight As and scholarships. She went to UCLA, but after a few months dropped out and moved to Hawaii. It was there that Alison fell in love with a man who encouraged her to pursue her calling as an artist. She returned to LA, began taking classes in Brentwood and sold her first painting to Norton Simon’s grandson, who hung it over his mantel between two Picassos.
I want to sit here all day, eating olives at Urth and listening to Alison’s stories, but we are on a mission, and it is time to move on. When we finally arrive at Ink Monkey, we find that Jeff—the tattoo artist I came to see—is occupied for another 30 minutes. I am ready to get in the chair, and just as a cliff diver might feel, when you are standing at the edge, you really need to jump. If you hang out too long, the jitters take hold. I am thrilled to learn Alison shares my fondness for tequila, and that’s how we end up at Hal’s.
Sitting at the bar, I start to reflect on where I was and how different LA was on this very day 17 years ago. Then, I was starting out, my future unknowable, my self unknown. The city was unfamiliar and unpredictable. Now in the wake of my divorce, I am starting out again in a way, my future still unknowable but my self known. The city is my home and strangely intimate. I envy Alison’s deep and romantic history here, then realize I now have my own as well.
When we return to Ink Monkey, Jeff is ready. He lays out three stenciled lines of text across the inside of my right forearm. I hold it up for Alison’s approval. She scrutinizes it with an artist’s eye and tells me one line is slightly askew. A smile spreads across my face. I turn to Jeff, tell him to leave it as it is and begin. Alison has inspired the artist in me who sees the beauty in embracing imperfection.
To mark the anniversary, earlier in the day I convince Alison to come with me to Ink Monkey Tattoo in Venice because she is a brilliant painter. But before I go under the buzzing needle, I visit her studio/home in Santa Monica Canyon to see her work for the first time. Her large canvases immediately draw me in. While the images are soft and unfocused—even impressionistic— there is an underlying sense of exactitude and realism. When Alison explains her technique to me, it makes perfect sense. She meticulously maps out and sketches an image, rendering it with surgical precision. The deliberate blurring comes later in the painting process. The effect is both academic and poetic—perfectionism pursued, achieved, then abandoned. I love it.
Before we leave her studio, we make preparations for the creation of a different kind of art. We print out the words for my tattoo in a font that I have chosen and Alison has approved.
On
our way to Venice, we stop at Urth Caffé on Main Street. Over lunch I
ask Alison about growing up in LA and becoming an artist. What she tells
me is a classic bohemian tale beautifully braided with history. Her
grandmother owned a five-story mansion in the Hollywood Hills that was
built at the turn of the century and was once surrounded by orange
groves. When Alison was a small child, her father went to live on a
commune, and she and her mother moved into the mansion with her
grandmother and three “brilliant scientist” uncles. Several years later,
when her father returned, they moved to Venice, where everyone grew
their own vegetables (among other things) and the children ran around
barefoot all the time. A child hippie, Alison was even practicing yoga
by age five (her father was legendary yogi Ganga White’s attorney). By
high school, however, Alison was living a more conventional life in
Pacific Palisades, earning straight As and scholarships. She went to
UCLA, but after a few months dropped out and moved to Hawaii. It was
there that Alison fell in love with a man who encouraged her to pursue
her calling as an artist. She returned to LA, began taking classes in
Brentwood and sold her first painting to Norton Simon’s grandson, who
hung it over his mantel between two Picassos.I want to sit here all day, eating olives at Urth and listening to Alison’s stories, but we are on a mission, and it is time to move on. When we finally arrive at Ink Monkey, we find that Jeff—the tattoo artist I came to see—is occupied for another 30 minutes. I am ready to get in the chair, and just as a cliff diver might feel, when you are standing at the edge, you really need to jump. If you hang out too long, the jitters take hold. I am thrilled to learn Alison shares my fondness for tequila, and that’s how we end up at Hal’s.
Sitting at the bar, I start to reflect on where I was and how different LA was on this very day 17 years ago. Then, I was starting out, my future unknowable, my self unknown. The city was unfamiliar and unpredictable. Now in the wake of my divorce, I am starting out again in a way, my future still unknowable but my self known. The city is my home and strangely intimate. I envy Alison’s deep and romantic history here, then realize I now have my own as well.
When we return to Ink Monkey, Jeff is ready. He lays out three stenciled lines of text across the inside of my right forearm. I hold it up for Alison’s approval. She scrutinizes it with an artist’s eye and tells me one line is slightly askew. A smile spreads across my face. I turn to Jeff, tell him to leave it as it is and begin. Alison has inspired the artist in me who sees the beauty in embracing imperfection.
Read more at http://la-confidential-magazine.com/living/articles/a-drink-and-some-ink#0eZBPoZ0TqolfUdE.99
It
is Wednseday afternoon on April 29, just after 2 PM. My friend Alison
Van Pelt and I are drinking Quita Penas tequila at Hal’s Bar & Grill
on Abbot Kinney. We are talking about history, our own and that of our
city. In my head, I am hearing “Under the Bridge” by the Red Hot Chili
Peppers because that was what I was listening to on April 29, 1992, when
I got my first tattoo on Sunset Boulevard, and LA was burning. I had
just made this city my home less than a year before the riots broke out.
The line between the good guys and the bad guys was obscured. There
were citywide curfews, South Central was self-destructing and Rodney
King was a household name. I was fresh out of college and had just
wrapped a five-month stint as a set production assistant on Batman Returns.
I had no job, no direction and no friends. The song was eerily
thematic: “The city I live in, the city of angels, lonely as I am...”
Sitting on the rooftop of my apartment building in Westwood, I looked
south toward the smoky skies, drew a snake around my ankle and headed to
Hollywood to make it permanent.
To mark the anniversary, earlier in the day I convince Alison to come with me to Ink Monkey Tattoo in Venice because she is a brilliant painter. But before I go under the buzzing needle, I visit her studio/home in Santa Monica Canyon to see her work for the first time. Her large canvases immediately draw me in. While the images are soft and unfocused—even impressionistic— there is an underlying sense of exactitude and realism. When Alison explains her technique to me, it makes perfect sense. She meticulously maps out and sketches an image, rendering it with surgical precision. The deliberate blurring comes later in the painting process. The effect is both academic and poetic—perfectionism pursued, achieved, then abandoned. I love it.
Before we leave her studio, we make preparations for the creation of a different kind of art. We print out the words for my tattoo in a font that I have chosen and Alison has approved.
On
our way to Venice, we stop at Urth Caffé on Main Street. Over lunch I
ask Alison about growing up in LA and becoming an artist. What she tells
me is a classic bohemian tale beautifully braided with history. Her
grandmother owned a five-story mansion in the Hollywood Hills that was
built at the turn of the century and was once surrounded by orange
groves. When Alison was a small child, her father went to live on a
commune, and she and her mother moved into the mansion with her
grandmother and three “brilliant scientist” uncles. Several years later,
when her father returned, they moved to Venice, where everyone grew
their own vegetables (among other things) and the children ran around
barefoot all the time. A child hippie, Alison was even practicing yoga
by age five (her father was legendary yogi Ganga White’s attorney). By
high school, however, Alison was living a more conventional life in
Pacific Palisades, earning straight As and scholarships. She went to
UCLA, but after a few months dropped out and moved to Hawaii. It was
there that Alison fell in love with a man who encouraged her to pursue
her calling as an artist. She returned to LA, began taking classes in
Brentwood and sold her first painting to Norton Simon’s grandson, who
hung it over his mantel between two Picassos.
I want to sit here all day, eating olives at Urth and listening to Alison’s stories, but we are on a mission, and it is time to move on. When we finally arrive at Ink Monkey, we find that Jeff—the tattoo artist I came to see—is occupied for another 30 minutes. I am ready to get in the chair, and just as a cliff diver might feel, when you are standing at the edge, you really need to jump. If you hang out too long, the jitters take hold. I am thrilled to learn Alison shares my fondness for tequila, and that’s how we end up at Hal’s.
Sitting at the bar, I start to reflect on where I was and how different LA was on this very day 17 years ago. Then, I was starting out, my future unknowable, my self unknown. The city was unfamiliar and unpredictable. Now in the wake of my divorce, I am starting out again in a way, my future still unknowable but my self known. The city is my home and strangely intimate. I envy Alison’s deep and romantic history here, then realize I now have my own as well.
When we return to Ink Monkey, Jeff is ready. He lays out three stenciled lines of text across the inside of my right forearm. I hold it up for Alison’s approval. She scrutinizes it with an artist’s eye and tells me one line is slightly askew. A smile spreads across my face. I turn to Jeff, tell him to leave it as it is and begin. Alison has inspired the artist in me who sees the beauty in embracing imperfection.
Read more at http://la-confidential-magazine.com/living/articles/a-drink-and-some-ink#0eZBPoZ0TqolfUdE.99
To mark the anniversary, earlier in the day I convince Alison to come with me to Ink Monkey Tattoo in Venice because she is a brilliant painter. But before I go under the buzzing needle, I visit her studio/home in Santa Monica Canyon to see her work for the first time. Her large canvases immediately draw me in. While the images are soft and unfocused—even impressionistic— there is an underlying sense of exactitude and realism. When Alison explains her technique to me, it makes perfect sense. She meticulously maps out and sketches an image, rendering it with surgical precision. The deliberate blurring comes later in the painting process. The effect is both academic and poetic—perfectionism pursued, achieved, then abandoned. I love it.
Before we leave her studio, we make preparations for the creation of a different kind of art. We print out the words for my tattoo in a font that I have chosen and Alison has approved.
On
our way to Venice, we stop at Urth Caffé on Main Street. Over lunch I
ask Alison about growing up in LA and becoming an artist. What she tells
me is a classic bohemian tale beautifully braided with history. Her
grandmother owned a five-story mansion in the Hollywood Hills that was
built at the turn of the century and was once surrounded by orange
groves. When Alison was a small child, her father went to live on a
commune, and she and her mother moved into the mansion with her
grandmother and three “brilliant scientist” uncles. Several years later,
when her father returned, they moved to Venice, where everyone grew
their own vegetables (among other things) and the children ran around
barefoot all the time. A child hippie, Alison was even practicing yoga
by age five (her father was legendary yogi Ganga White’s attorney). By
high school, however, Alison was living a more conventional life in
Pacific Palisades, earning straight As and scholarships. She went to
UCLA, but after a few months dropped out and moved to Hawaii. It was
there that Alison fell in love with a man who encouraged her to pursue
her calling as an artist. She returned to LA, began taking classes in
Brentwood and sold her first painting to Norton Simon’s grandson, who
hung it over his mantel between two Picassos.I want to sit here all day, eating olives at Urth and listening to Alison’s stories, but we are on a mission, and it is time to move on. When we finally arrive at Ink Monkey, we find that Jeff—the tattoo artist I came to see—is occupied for another 30 minutes. I am ready to get in the chair, and just as a cliff diver might feel, when you are standing at the edge, you really need to jump. If you hang out too long, the jitters take hold. I am thrilled to learn Alison shares my fondness for tequila, and that’s how we end up at Hal’s.
Sitting at the bar, I start to reflect on where I was and how different LA was on this very day 17 years ago. Then, I was starting out, my future unknowable, my self unknown. The city was unfamiliar and unpredictable. Now in the wake of my divorce, I am starting out again in a way, my future still unknowable but my self known. The city is my home and strangely intimate. I envy Alison’s deep and romantic history here, then realize I now have my own as well.
When we return to Ink Monkey, Jeff is ready. He lays out three stenciled lines of text across the inside of my right forearm. I hold it up for Alison’s approval. She scrutinizes it with an artist’s eye and tells me one line is slightly askew. A smile spreads across my face. I turn to Jeff, tell him to leave it as it is and begin. Alison has inspired the artist in me who sees the beauty in embracing imperfection.
Read more at http://la-confidential-magazine.com/living/articles/a-drink-and-some-ink#0eZBPoZ0TqolfUdE.99
It
is Wednseday afternoon on April 29, just after 2 PM. My friend Alison
Van Pelt and I are drinking Quita Penas tequila at Hal’s Bar & Grill
on Abbot Kinney. We are talking about history, our own and that of our
city. In my head, I am hearing “Under the Bridge” by the Red Hot Chili
Peppers because that was what I was listening to on April 29, 1992, when
I got my first tattoo on Sunset Boulevard, and LA was burning. I had
just made this city my home less than a year before the riots broke out.
The line between the good guys and the bad guys was obscured. There
were citywide curfews, South Central was self-destructing and Rodney
King was a household name. I was fresh out of college and had just
wrapped a five-month stint as a set production assistant on Batman Returns.
I had no job, no direction and no friends. The song was eerily
thematic: “The city I live in, the city of angels, lonely as I am...”
Sitting on the rooftop of my apartment building in Westwood, I looked
south toward the smoky skies, drew a snake around my ankle and headed to
Hollywood to make it permanent.
To mark the anniversary, earlier in the day I convince Alison to come with me to Ink Monkey Tattoo in Venice because she is a brilliant painter. But before I go under the buzzing needle, I visit her studio/home in Santa Monica Canyon to see her work for the first time. Her large canvases immediately draw me in. While the images are soft and unfocused—even impressionistic— there is an underlying sense of exactitude and realism. When Alison explains her technique to me, it makes perfect sense. She meticulously maps out and sketches an image, rendering it with surgical precision. The deliberate blurring comes later in the painting process. The effect is both academic and poetic—perfectionism pursued, achieved, then abandoned. I love it.
Before we leave her studio, we make preparations for the creation of a different kind of art. We print out the words for my tattoo in a font that I have chosen and Alison has approved.
On
our way to Venice, we stop at Urth Caffé on Main Street. Over lunch I
ask Alison about growing up in LA and becoming an artist. What she tells
me is a classic bohemian tale beautifully braided with history. Her
grandmother owned a five-story mansion in the Hollywood Hills that was
built at the turn of the century and was once surrounded by orange
groves. When Alison was a small child, her father went to live on a
commune, and she and her mother moved into the mansion with her
grandmother and three “brilliant scientist” uncles. Several years later,
when her father returned, they moved to Venice, where everyone grew
their own vegetables (among other things) and the children ran around
barefoot all the time. A child hippie, Alison was even practicing yoga
by age five (her father was legendary yogi Ganga White’s attorney). By
high school, however, Alison was living a more conventional life in
Pacific Palisades, earning straight As and scholarships. She went to
UCLA, but after a few months dropped out and moved to Hawaii. It was
there that Alison fell in love with a man who encouraged her to pursue
her calling as an artist. She returned to LA, began taking classes in
Brentwood and sold her first painting to Norton Simon’s grandson, who
hung it over his mantel between two Picassos.
I want to sit here all day, eating olives at Urth and listening to Alison’s stories, but we are on a mission, and it is time to move on. When we finally arrive at Ink Monkey, we find that Jeff—the tattoo artist I came to see—is occupied for another 30 minutes. I am ready to get in the chair, and just as a cliff diver might feel, when you are standing at the edge, you really need to jump. If you hang out too long, the jitters take hold. I am thrilled to learn Alison shares my fondness for tequila, and that’s how we end up at Hal’s.
Sitting at the bar, I start to reflect on where I was and how different LA was on this very day 17 years ago. Then, I was starting out, my future unknowable, my self unknown. The city was unfamiliar and unpredictable. Now in the wake of my divorce, I am starting out again in a way, my future still unknowable but my self known. The city is my home and strangely intimate. I envy Alison’s deep and romantic history here, then realize I now have my own as well.
When we return to Ink Monkey, Jeff is ready. He lays out three stenciled lines of text across the inside of my right forearm. I hold it up for Alison’s approval. She scrutinizes it with an artist’s eye and tells me one line is slightly askew. A smile spreads across my face. I turn to Jeff, tell him to leave it as it is and begin. Alison has inspired the artist in me who sees the beauty in embracing imperfection.
Read more at http://la-confidential-magazine.com/living/articles/a-drink-and-some-ink#0eZBPoZ0TqolfUdE.99
To mark the anniversary, earlier in the day I convince Alison to come with me to Ink Monkey Tattoo in Venice because she is a brilliant painter. But before I go under the buzzing needle, I visit her studio/home in Santa Monica Canyon to see her work for the first time. Her large canvases immediately draw me in. While the images are soft and unfocused—even impressionistic— there is an underlying sense of exactitude and realism. When Alison explains her technique to me, it makes perfect sense. She meticulously maps out and sketches an image, rendering it with surgical precision. The deliberate blurring comes later in the painting process. The effect is both academic and poetic—perfectionism pursued, achieved, then abandoned. I love it.
Before we leave her studio, we make preparations for the creation of a different kind of art. We print out the words for my tattoo in a font that I have chosen and Alison has approved.
On
our way to Venice, we stop at Urth Caffé on Main Street. Over lunch I
ask Alison about growing up in LA and becoming an artist. What she tells
me is a classic bohemian tale beautifully braided with history. Her
grandmother owned a five-story mansion in the Hollywood Hills that was
built at the turn of the century and was once surrounded by orange
groves. When Alison was a small child, her father went to live on a
commune, and she and her mother moved into the mansion with her
grandmother and three “brilliant scientist” uncles. Several years later,
when her father returned, they moved to Venice, where everyone grew
their own vegetables (among other things) and the children ran around
barefoot all the time. A child hippie, Alison was even practicing yoga
by age five (her father was legendary yogi Ganga White’s attorney). By
high school, however, Alison was living a more conventional life in
Pacific Palisades, earning straight As and scholarships. She went to
UCLA, but after a few months dropped out and moved to Hawaii. It was
there that Alison fell in love with a man who encouraged her to pursue
her calling as an artist. She returned to LA, began taking classes in
Brentwood and sold her first painting to Norton Simon’s grandson, who
hung it over his mantel between two Picassos.I want to sit here all day, eating olives at Urth and listening to Alison’s stories, but we are on a mission, and it is time to move on. When we finally arrive at Ink Monkey, we find that Jeff—the tattoo artist I came to see—is occupied for another 30 minutes. I am ready to get in the chair, and just as a cliff diver might feel, when you are standing at the edge, you really need to jump. If you hang out too long, the jitters take hold. I am thrilled to learn Alison shares my fondness for tequila, and that’s how we end up at Hal’s.
Sitting at the bar, I start to reflect on where I was and how different LA was on this very day 17 years ago. Then, I was starting out, my future unknowable, my self unknown. The city was unfamiliar and unpredictable. Now in the wake of my divorce, I am starting out again in a way, my future still unknowable but my self known. The city is my home and strangely intimate. I envy Alison’s deep and romantic history here, then realize I now have my own as well.
When we return to Ink Monkey, Jeff is ready. He lays out three stenciled lines of text across the inside of my right forearm. I hold it up for Alison’s approval. She scrutinizes it with an artist’s eye and tells me one line is slightly askew. A smile spreads across my face. I turn to Jeff, tell him to leave it as it is and begin. Alison has inspired the artist in me who sees the beauty in embracing imperfection.
Read more at http://la-confidential-magazine.com/living/articles/a-drink-and-some-ink#0eZBPoZ0TqolfUdE.99
Saturday, November 2, 2013
New York Times, The Insider, Alison Van Pelt
New York Times
The Insider | Alison Van Pelt
Van Pelt in front of one of her paintings at her studio. (Maggie Kayne)
The
Insider is a recurring profile of tastemakers in the fields of fashion,
design, food, travel and the arts. Here the Los Angeles-based painter
Alison Van Pelt shares a few of her style essentials. A new exhibition
of her latest body of work, “If I Were Ed Ruscha,” will show at the
Museum of Contemporary Art China
in Hong Kong in November. (The museum officially opens this fall.)
Name:
Alison Van Pelt
Age: Old enough to know better
Occupation: Artist (painter)
Home base: Santa Monica Canyon
Retail standby: Madison, Ron Herman, Fred Segal, Planet Blue
Music venue: The Green Door
Favorite concert: Jack Bambi
Music: Whatever my friend Maggie put on my iPod
Provisions: Farmer's market
For gifts: Hermès
Restaurant: Patrick’s Roadhouse and Axe for breakfast; Vito for the caesar salad; penne vodka at Laconda Portofino; truffle ravioli at Giorgio; jalapeño yellowtail at Nobu; sea bass at Chaya; truffle macaroni at the Beachcomber; coffee at Cafe Luxxe
Drink: Champagne or tequila
Party central: My bed
Momentary style obsessions: Jenni Kayne, Tom Binns, Lanvin
Reading material: “Loving Frank,” by Nancy Horan; ridiculous numbers of magazines; The New York Times
Art pick: Kaz Oshiro
Museums: Museum of Contemporary Art, Hong Kong
Movie: “Roman Holiday”
Vacation destination: My friend’s boat
Something you are looking forward to this summer: The beach with my dogs
Age: Old enough to know better
Occupation: Artist (painter)
Home base: Santa Monica Canyon
Retail standby: Madison, Ron Herman, Fred Segal, Planet Blue
Music venue: The Green Door
Favorite concert: Jack Bambi
Music: Whatever my friend Maggie put on my iPod
Provisions: Farmer's market
For gifts: Hermès
Restaurant: Patrick’s Roadhouse and Axe for breakfast; Vito for the caesar salad; penne vodka at Laconda Portofino; truffle ravioli at Giorgio; jalapeño yellowtail at Nobu; sea bass at Chaya; truffle macaroni at the Beachcomber; coffee at Cafe Luxxe
Drink: Champagne or tequila
Party central: My bed
Momentary style obsessions: Jenni Kayne, Tom Binns, Lanvin
Reading material: “Loving Frank,” by Nancy Horan; ridiculous numbers of magazines; The New York Times
Art pick: Kaz Oshiro
Museums: Museum of Contemporary Art, Hong Kong
Movie: “Roman Holiday”
Vacation destination: My friend’s boat
Something you are looking forward to this summer: The beach with my dogs
Alison’s Santa Monica Canyon Neighborhood
Here
are some of Van Pelt’s favorite haunts in L.A. that she visits
regularly. The map below is interactive; click on the blue markers to
learn more about Alison’s spots.
[googlemaps
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&s=AARTsJpeeEElbFzt97MNAMjVutV4rxYwSg&msa=0&msid=103739794770934605257.000454fad2bf41b813ac0&ll=34.042419,-118.488922&spn=0.369828,0.549316&z=10&output=embed&w=400&h=325]
- Patrick’s Roadhouse — great fresh smoothies. And so close to home!
- Axe — Best (and biggest) pancakes. Everything’s organic.
- Vito — Old school! They make the caesar at the table. (amazing wine list.)
- The Beachcomber Cafe — Right there on the pier, The Tiki room is great.
- Nobu — Yum.
- Caffe Luxxe— addictive cappuccino
- Jenni Kayne (e-mail) — everything is gorgeous.
- The Green Door — Jason Scoppa does an awesome jazz night on Tuesdays.
- PC Greens — the juice bar!
- Ron Herman (Malibu) — They let my dogs run around the store.
Paintings from Alison Van Pelt’s “If I Were Ed Ruscha” exhibition.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
944 Magazine, Take it from the Tastemakers What to See, What to Do, Where to Be
944 Magazine Take it from the Tastemakers What to See, What to Do, Where to Be
Alison Van Pelt
Artist, Van Pelt Studios
alisonvanpelt.com
Ideal night: Riding my bike to meet friends for dinner and drinks.
Favorite drink: Sangria at Venice Beach Wines
Best dining spots: Gjelina and Piccolo
Favorite boutique: Mona Moore
Refuel after a long night: Head to Axe for a gigantic pancake and a huge cappuccino.
Favorite event: Venice Family Clinic Art Walk.
Best thing about a Venice night out: You can ride your bike.
Anthony Mandler
Filmmaker, Let Films
letfilms.com
An ideal night out: A cigar at Hollywood Smoke on Main Street, dinner on the patio at Gjelina and a nice, long ride home on the motorcycle.
Favorite boutique: Guild on Abbot Kinney
Refuel after a long night: Morning coffee at Intelligentsia and pancakes at Axe.
Best hidden spot: Go see Jason at Old Glory Barbershop for the best fade on the westside.
Word to the wise: Venice people are really protective of their neighborhood, so when you’re there make sure not to be an a**hole, or it could get a little rough.
Cesario Block Montaño
Director/Photographer
Ideal night out: First Fridays on Abbot Kinney have been the most fun. Stores stay open late, and there are surrounding art shows that serve wine.
Favorite place to see live music: On Tuesday nights at The Brig, there’s an awesome salsa/hip-hop band that plays, and it usually turns into a huge jam session.
Best local act: Suicidal Tendencies
Best thing about Venice: Being able to get into every place without a problem, seeing real friends and familiar faces and just really knowing everyone around town. It’s nice to just see someone out and have them invite you over for some barbecue, or a party or to just come and kick it.
Charlotte Bjorlin D’Elia
Owner, RAD branding agency; jewelry designer
charlottebjorlindelia.com
Best live music: Band night at Stronghold.
Favorite drink: Dirty Dog, served at a recent Dogtown party (in a tumbler; equal parts dry and sweet Vermouth, olive juice, vodka, a splash of brandy, Blue cheese-stuffed olives and a cucumber slice on the rocks).
Best dining spots: Gjelina — Travis’s food is addictive! And my friends’ Italian hideaway, Ado, in the canary yellow bungalow next to Dogtown Lofts.
Best thing about a night in Venice: The mix of people — 17 to 75 and everyone’s hanging out together.
Favorite dive spot: La Cabana on Rose
Favorite boutique: Heist for its well-edited selection of labels like Humanoid, Isabel Marant and bags by Jerome Dreyfuss.
Mary Vernieu
Owner, Betty Mae Casting & Primitivo Wine Bistro
primitivowinebistro.com
Best local act: The Paul Chesne band
Best cocktail: Su Novia at the Tasting Kitchen
Favorite boutique: Principessa
Best breakfast: Primitivo has recently begun serving weekends.
CR Stecyk III
Artist/Photographer and Owner, Zephyr Surf Shop
Best secret spot: Juan Marquez’s Atelier
Favorite dining: Hoagie Steak
Favorite shop: Venice Originals
Best place for a late-night bite: La Cabana
Favorite Venice event: Venice Surf-A-Thon
Join the fun as 944 takes over Venice in celebration of our Nightlife Issue
944 Neighborhood Takeover | 08.06.10
AK1511
First Fridays at AK1511 starting at 8 p.m.
1511 Abbot Kinney, Venice
Alison Van Pelt
Artist, Van Pelt Studios
alisonvanpelt.com
Ideal night: Riding my bike to meet friends for dinner and drinks.
Favorite drink: Sangria at Venice Beach Wines
Best dining spots: Gjelina and Piccolo
Favorite boutique: Mona Moore
Refuel after a long night: Head to Axe for a gigantic pancake and a huge cappuccino.
Favorite event: Venice Family Clinic Art Walk.
Best thing about a Venice night out: You can ride your bike.
Anthony Mandler
Filmmaker, Let Films
letfilms.com
An ideal night out: A cigar at Hollywood Smoke on Main Street, dinner on the patio at Gjelina and a nice, long ride home on the motorcycle.
Favorite boutique: Guild on Abbot Kinney
Refuel after a long night: Morning coffee at Intelligentsia and pancakes at Axe.
Best hidden spot: Go see Jason at Old Glory Barbershop for the best fade on the westside.
Word to the wise: Venice people are really protective of their neighborhood, so when you’re there make sure not to be an a**hole, or it could get a little rough.
Cesario Block Montaño
Director/Photographer
Ideal night out: First Fridays on Abbot Kinney have been the most fun. Stores stay open late, and there are surrounding art shows that serve wine.
Favorite place to see live music: On Tuesday nights at The Brig, there’s an awesome salsa/hip-hop band that plays, and it usually turns into a huge jam session.
Best local act: Suicidal Tendencies
Best thing about Venice: Being able to get into every place without a problem, seeing real friends and familiar faces and just really knowing everyone around town. It’s nice to just see someone out and have them invite you over for some barbecue, or a party or to just come and kick it.
Charlotte Bjorlin D’Elia
Owner, RAD branding agency; jewelry designer
charlottebjorlindelia.com
Best live music: Band night at Stronghold.
Favorite drink: Dirty Dog, served at a recent Dogtown party (in a tumbler; equal parts dry and sweet Vermouth, olive juice, vodka, a splash of brandy, Blue cheese-stuffed olives and a cucumber slice on the rocks).
Best dining spots: Gjelina — Travis’s food is addictive! And my friends’ Italian hideaway, Ado, in the canary yellow bungalow next to Dogtown Lofts.
Best thing about a night in Venice: The mix of people — 17 to 75 and everyone’s hanging out together.
Favorite dive spot: La Cabana on Rose
Favorite boutique: Heist for its well-edited selection of labels like Humanoid, Isabel Marant and bags by Jerome Dreyfuss.
Mary Vernieu
Owner, Betty Mae Casting & Primitivo Wine Bistro
primitivowinebistro.com
Best local act: The Paul Chesne band
Best cocktail: Su Novia at the Tasting Kitchen
Favorite boutique: Principessa
Best breakfast: Primitivo has recently begun serving weekends.
CR Stecyk III
Artist/Photographer and Owner, Zephyr Surf Shop
Best secret spot: Juan Marquez’s Atelier
Favorite dining: Hoagie Steak
Favorite shop: Venice Originals
Best place for a late-night bite: La Cabana
Favorite Venice event: Venice Surf-A-Thon
Join the fun as 944 takes over Venice in celebration of our Nightlife Issue
944 Neighborhood Takeover | 08.06.10
AK1511
First Fridays at AK1511 starting at 8 p.m.
1511 Abbot Kinney, Venice
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Fabulous home of Jenni Kayne and Richard Ehrlich in C Magazing; paintings by Alison Van Pelt
The Beverly Hills family residence of fashion designer
Jenni Kayne and realtor Richard Ehrlich offers
exalted quietude for reflection and play
By Christine Lennon
Photographed by Lisa Romerein
Photographed by Lisa Romerein
A shallow pool, intended for lilies, is often filled with splashing toddlers.
Jenni Kayne, Richard Ehrlich, Ripley and Tanner.
Jenni Kayne and Richard Ehrlich’s house
is perfect because Kayne is a Virgo. At least, that’s how she explains
it. Kayne, who recently celebrated the 10th anniversary of her eponymous
fashion label, attributes her acute attention to detail and overall
fastidiousness to her astrological sign. It’s even written in the stars
that she should be modest about her affinity for interior design, which
she is, and the seemingly effortless way she created an intimate,
inviting home out of a cavernous “’80s architectural” in the flats of
Beverly Hills. The truth is she saw serious potential in the home she
and Ehrlich purchased nearly seven years ago—back when it was riddled
with mold and covered, indoors and out, with aging terra-cotta tile.
That said, the transformation might have more to do with her
preternaturally impressive taste.
Native grasses, decomposed granite and a small grove of olive trees line the front walk.
“We were looking for a house for a while,
but we couldn’t find anything,” says Kayne. She is curled up on a
built-in kitchen bench in a pair of bone-colored, high-waisted jeans and
a pale T-shirt, her long, brown waves twisted into a loose braid. “It
was unusual because Richard is a real estate agent, so he knew about
everything on the market—all of the secret listings. And we just didn’t
see anything we liked. Then one day, he called me and said, ‘I just
walked into this house, and you’re going to love it. But I don’t like
it!’ And somehow I convinced him he was going to love it, too.”
Kayne was attracted to the bones of the
structure, the privacy afforded by the hedges surrounding the yard and
the generous proportions of the rooms. Everything else had to go. “We
took it down to the studs,” she laughs.
Kayne enlisted architect Jeffrey
Allsbrook—a partner at Standard LA whose clients include Los Angeles
designer James Perse and the Kayne Griffin Corcoran gallery (which
Kayne’s sister, Maggie, co-owns). “Jeff is amazing. I met him when he
designed my first store in West Hollywood, and we work really well
together.”
After two and a half years of renovation,
the couple moved in—with an additional family member in tow. “When we
bought the house, we weren’t even really thinking about kids. But by the
time we moved in, our son Tanner was six months old. Then, when our
daughter Ripley was born, we did a second remodel and added on.”
The playroom is stocked with natural wooden toys by Camden Rose and a tipi customized by Fire and Creme in Venice.
Framed butterflies and a Tamar Mogendorff goose in Ripley’s room.
A serene stairwell.
“I knew I wanted to be a designer when I was eight,” she explains with a shrug. And, back to the Virgo dilemma, she is a chronic, habitual compiler of information, ideas and sources.
“I have always been that friend people ask for information, like what they should register for when they’re pregnant, or what flowers to buy, or where I get natural toys for kids,” she explains. “And I love to help out, but frankly, it was getting a little exhausting. Now I just put it all on the blog, and when people ask for advice I send them there.”
Though she once dreamed of expanding her brand to include lifestyle items, for now, she’s content to inform her followers of tastemakers she finds around town, be it Maurice Harris of Bloom & Plume for artful floral arrangements, the vegetable garden whiz Laurie Kranz of Edible LA, or Amanda Chantal Bacon of Moon Juice.
The
couple commissioned a second renovation—including a playroom and
generous eat-in kitchen—to accommodate their growing family. The
breakfast table was a hand-me-down from a friend. Built-in benches,
pillows from Lost and Found in Hollywood, a Hans Wegner rope chair with a
Mongolian lamb throw, and a vintage Kotan rug from Lawrence of La Brea
create a cozy extra seating area. Honed travertine flooring is soft
under bare feet.
“A lot of the ideas from this house came from his first book on design, Maison,” she says. She set out to create an environment that was “clean, neutral, warm and comfortable,” and adds, “The house is modern, but we’re not modern people. We added a lot of natural, organic elements.”
The first step was to purchase the majority of reclaimed wood from a single Amish barn in Pennsylvania.
“The ceilings in the kitchen are from the siding. We used the big beams, which we hollowed out, all over the house. And some of the wood from the beams was used to create our kitchen counters,” she says. A long farm table from Obsolete lines one wall; and woven leather chairs from JF Chen, and white linen upholstered sofas custom made by Molly Isaacson surround a concrete, dual-sided fireplace. Kayne also commissioned an alabaster fixture from JF Chen, and she designed a generous two-sided master bath with a shared shower that’s certainly a lesson in marital diplomacy.
Three
paintings by Santa Monica-based artist Alison Van Pelt, above a
Lawson-Fenning dining table. The chairs are vintage, purchased from a
friend, which she then had copied.
But the home’s most impressive feature might be its art collection. Paintings of Native Americans by Alison Van Pelt hang above the dining table; family photos from friend Michael Muller line the hallway leading to the master suite at the rear of the house; and an over-sized image of a woman floating serenely in a turquoise sea is the only jolt of bold color in the living room.
Another (borrowed) Alison Van Pelt above an Eames chair in the master.
With the scent of wood smoke from the fireplace lingering in the air, and the wall of green that lines the pool, it’s easy to forget the property is a stone’s throw from the tourist throngs and retailers of Beverly Hills—a place where Kayne swore she would never reside again.
“I never thought I’d live in the flats! It was hills all the way for me,” she says. “But I love it. It’s so convenient. The sidewalks are great for the kids. And in this house, you can’t see a single neighbor. It feels so calm. You could literally be anywhere.”
Kayne has created an impressive oasis for her family, equal parts adult refuge and kid paradise.
“People are kind of shocked I have white furniture with little kids around. But I just have my eco Scotchgard person come, like, once every couple of months. Everything just wipes off. You’ve got to try it. I’ll give you the number.”
[C, October 2013]
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