Next up on his plate: an artist's life in a loft

LEANING his long and lanky frame outside his door, Philip Chiang welcomes a visitor to his downtown loft, built with a spot-on view of the 4th Street bridge and Boyle Heights beyond. The third-floor unit has east-facing windows that capture intense morning light, but on any given day, they also frame dozens of car crashes, foot chases and crime scenes -- all staged by the film crews that flock to the street's gritty glamour.

It's quite a difference from his previous Hancock Park digs, but then his change of address is about reinvention. After decades as a leading restaurateur, chef, consultant, graphic artist and expert scrounger, he has fully embraced the life of a fine-art painter at his warehouse district loft.

It is the latest creative incarnation for Chiang, 59, who hails from restaurant royalty. He is the son of Cecelia Chiang, founder of the Chinese restaurant Mandarin in Beverly Hills. (She is said to have been to Chinese food in America what Julia Child was to French cuisine here.) He succeeded his mother at the Mandarin and then created the template for hip Asian eateries with Mandarette on Beverly Boulevard and Lucky Duck on La Brea Avenue.

Chiang also lends his expertise and shortened surname to P.F. Chang's China Bistro, the 154-unit chain he co-founded with Paul Fleming (he's the P.F.). When Chiang's not painting, he remains the restaurant's "culinary ambassador."

This fabled son of food fame says acquaintances assume he's living in a mansion or commanding his own Chiang chain, but then they come to understand him.

"I'm pretty funky. I'm very bohemian," he says. He travels frequently enough for P.F. Chang's that a lock-it-and-leave-it loft has great appeal. And for now, he's had enough of running restaurants.

His building shares space with other artistic and commercial enterprises. His loft formerly housed an architectural firm. Just inside the door is Chiang's lightly paint-flecked studio, the painting area strategically ordered like the prepped ingredients of a chef's mise en place. The rectangular room features a large easel, custom built-ins for supplies, and a floor and table protected by taped-down plastic sheets.

THOUGH his career transition to serious painter might indicate he's abandoned restaurants, Chiang's loft proves otherwise. Restaurants remain an important part of his identity and a key element of his decor. You just don't notice at first.