of My Life as a Woman (2001) that she saw my father remove all of the furniture from the living room and put it outside in the yard. He then drilled a hole in the floor and brought in a water hose to wash the floorboards, so that all the water and the dirt ran down the hill. I don’t know if this is true, but it does fit my father’s character.
Ferus / chapter 6
I never knew a time when Wallace was not an artist. I still have strong memories of him working on the left side of the living room in Beverly Glen. The smell of parchment paintings is still in my nostrils. I often think of my dad’s artworks in more of a textural context than a visual one. The smell of the parchment paintings (painted Hebrew characters) was a mixture of chemicals and glue, much like his later Verifax art. As a two-year-old, I was never told not to touch something, so I remember touching the paintings and feeling the layers of paint and glue over the work itself.
Wallace’s workspace in the Beverly Glen House always appeared calm and organized, but not in an obsessive manner. It must have been difficult for him to work, since people came by all the time. The compactness of the house appears to have pleased my mom and dad. All the homes I lived in, except in San Francisco, were tiny; even the Topanga Canyon house, which had a significant amount of property around it, was a small structure. But the Beverly Glen house, in all its glory, was just a shack on stilts.
CHARLES BRITTIN / Wallace Berman’s “Cross,” Ferus Gallery, 1957
COPYRIGHT © J. PAUL GETTY TRUST. SEE PAGE 312 FOR FULL CITATION.
One of the many people who came to the house was Walter Hopps. I knew Walter all my life, from a distance. He struck me as a nice person, but to a kid, his personality was cold. I never felt any warmth towards him, but I assume he must have shared many things with Wallace. Both had wives named Shirley, for one, and Walter was a jazzer, like my dad. Indeed, as a teenager, he even saw my dad dance in a South Central nightclub and commented that Wallace had a presence from the very beginning. They approached art from the same angle; even though Walter went to school, he was very much a street-smart guy who knew art. Most people at that time who were into art, I think, were either wealthy or very well educated. Walter didn’t learn art. He knew it by instinct. Walter was fortunate to hang out with the art collector and former modernist poet Walter Conrad Arensberg, who was a friend as well as a collector of Marcel Duchamp’s art. To this day, I don’t know if my dad ever met Arensberg, but what he had in common with Walter Hopps was a love of street culture and art. Also Walter had a Clark Kent vibe about him, not just because he wore black-rimmed glasses. There was something very mysterious about his presence, and how he carried himself. Even as a child, I thought he was eccentric and hiding that fact by wearing suits and ties.
Along with the artist Ed Kienholz, Walter started the Ferus Gallery, where Wallace had his first solo gallery show in 1957. It’s unclear what exactly happened, but the police were called and informed that the show contained obscene works. The police came by and shut it down. There was a daylong trial, my father was convicted of exhibiting pornography, and he had to serve jail time. Luckily, his good friend Dean Stockwell bailed him out of jail. It seems that Ed and Walter were cheerful enough that they got some sort of publicity, and if my father rotted in a jail cell—then what the hell! The Ferus Gallery would go on to become a major force in Los Angeles art culture, under the direction of Irving Blum, who took over curatorial duties from Ed and Walter and later gave Andy Warhol his first solo exhibition. There’s some controversy over whether Wallace was dropped from the gallery when Irving took over, or just left when he was convicted of the obscenity charge. But whatever Irving’s intentions, Wallace for sure was not going to do another exhibition at Ferus.
The irony of it all is that there was only one artwork in the exhibition that was very sexually graphic. This was a close-up image of a penis in a vagina and was hard to miss, but somehow the vice squad did. Instead, they chose to bust my father for an image that wasn’t by him, but rather by Marjorie Cameron, a drawing that was part of and within his assemblage. Wallace’s arrest might have been seen as a joke to some, but he took it very seriously and was deeply offended to be in that position. He was disappointed that mainstream culture would want to incarcerate him. He never mentioned what became of the artwork from that show. Most of it disappeared. Some claim that a worker at the Ferus Gallery, not knowing it was art, threw it away, and some, like me, feel that Walter and Ed knew a lot more about what happened to it. One artwork from the show was later discovered in Walter’s personal collection.
Wallace never had any harsh feelings towards Walter or Ed, but I suspect Ed didn’t like Wallace. I’ve heard rumors to the effect that Ed was jealous of a woman’s attention to my dad, or perhaps he was simply jealous of Wallace’s art, but I do believe Ed himself was the one who called the cops on the show. He probably didn’t think Wallace would get arrested; more likely he just wanted to create some publicity, which he did. But due to this experience, Wallace never had another solo commercial gallery exhibition in his lifetime. Wallace soured on the very idea of becoming a “professional” in the art world, and it was at this time he made the decision to move us to San Francisco.
Cameron / chapter 7
The artist behind the “obscene” drawing for which my dad was arrested, Marjorie Cameron—better known to her friends and fans simply as Cameron—might be one of the most fascinating women to emerge in the 20th century, for various reasons. She was married to the rocket scientist Jack Parsons, a principal founder of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory and a well-known occultist, and she became his widow in 1952 when he accidentally blew himself up in his lab at their Pasadena home. My mom told me a bit about him. Without a doubt, he was a wild one. He and Cameron must have been a standout couple in an era when things were hush-hush. Their circle included fellow rocket scientists and various science fiction writers, including L. Ron Hubbard, later founder of Scientology. Some have claimed that Hubbard went through Parsons’s trash to come up with the seeds or concept of Scientology. It’s clear that from someone’s trash, another can find gold if he or she knows what to look for.
WALLACE BERMAN / Cameron, 1962
Cameron herself was very much a free-spirited individual. She was a witch, yes, but to define her by that one category would be a huge mistake. As a child and as an adult, I never once had a discussion with her about her specific interest in magick, though the occult arts were obviously a subject she had a deep interest in. Cameron, according to my mom, compartmentalized her social life to a certain degree. She first met my dad and mom at her house that she shared with Jack. It was an afternoon party, and Cameron was drawn to Wallace and Shirley because they were the only artists at this specific party. Everyone else was a rocket scientist or in some other science field. Parsons was always friendly to my mom and dad, but it was Cameron who was drawn to my parents, and without her presence, I don’t think they would have entered the world of Jack Parsons. My mom has commented to me how handsome Jack was, in the movie star mode of handsomeness. My parents had dinner over at their house, and Shirley mentioned that Jack would make a dramatic entrance into the room. It was more his style than anything else. He knew his presence made an impression on people.
Through Cameron, Wallace and Shirley met actor and raconteur Samson de Brier, who invited them to his Hollywood house to attend his big Halloween party, the theme of which was “Come as Your Madness.” My dad dressed up as Alice B. Toklas, Gertrude Stein’s better half. That particular party was the inspiration for Kenneth Anger’s Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome (1954). Cameron played the Scarlet Woman in the film, and Anaïs Nin starred as Astarte, with her head in a birdcage, which I believe was her costume for the original Halloween party. Joan Whitney, a close friend of my parents, played Aphrodite.
