"Lowriding, in essence, is performative. Cruising allows people to not only express themselves but transcend the limits of the barrio culture in Los Angeles." It also ties into a tradition of street aesthetics in Los Angeles that blend tattoos, car painting and wall murals to pass on ancient myth, history or neighborhood legend, sometimes all at the same time. But, says Ortiz, "Vincent, he's a different story. He comes from a different place. He understands narrative painting from the '30s. I can see a lot of American art in his work and to a certain degree Mexican muralism and illustration. But what he's doing is a fresco -- working on the contours of a car -- in oil. This was big. Ambitious."
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Driven To Distraction
With a '53 truck as his canvas, artist Vincent Valdez set out to tell the story of Chavez Ravine. Easier said than done.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Thursday, September 20, 2007 Home Edition Main News Part A Page 2 National Desk 2 inches; 71 words Type of Material: Correction
Chavez Ravine: An article in Sunday's Arts & Music section about a project by artist Vincent Valdez that chronicles the history of Chavez Ravine said that the Mexican American, working-class neighborhood was plowed away to make room for Dodger Stadium. Most of the neighborhood's residents had already been removed, and many of the buildings leveled, for a public housing project that was never built. The remainder were cleared for the stadium.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Sunday, September 23, 2007 Home Edition Sunday Calendar Part E Page 2 Calendar Desk 2 inches; 71 words Type of Material: Correction
Chavez Ravine: An Arts & Music article last Sunday about a project by artist Vincent Valdez that chronicles the history of Chavez Ravine said that the Mexican American, working-class neighborhood was plowed away to make room for Dodger Stadium. Most of the neighborhood's residents had been already been removed, and many of the buildings leveled, for a public housing project that was never built. The remainder were cleared for the stadium.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Sunday, September 23, 2007 Home Edition Main News Part A Page 2 National Desk 2 inches; 72 words Type of Material: Correction
Chavez Ravine: An article in the Sept. 16 Arts & Music section about a project by artist Vincent Valdez chronicling the history of Chavez Ravine said that the Mexican American working-class neighborhood was plowed away to make room for Dodger Stadium. Most of the neighborhood's residents had already been removed, and many of the buildings leveled, for a public housing project that was never built. The remainder were cleared for the stadium.
Down the rabbit hole
When the Ruelas brothers wheeled the truck, a primed and ready canvas, into Valdez's studio, reality set in: "I literally just sat in front of it for about a solid month and a half," the painter says. "Two months. Then, I would just very timidly apply color." Just settling on the paint itself was more problematic than he had imagined. "I asked a lot of car guys in San Antonio and here. I talked to the Dukes. To other artists who have done custom work on cars -- Magu and other people who knew how [artist] Mister Cartoon had done his vehicles." Mister Cartoon, the graffiti artist turned street-art impresario, had even done an ice cream truck, though one of a considerably different flavor.
Most everyone recommended airbrush, "but that's not my work." Neither was acrylic. He considered car paint, but it dries instantly and he couldn't blend. "I sat here and thought: 'Can I do this? Really?' "
That was a more open-ended question than even Valdez realized. He went down the rabbit hole. The release of the album came and went. The anniversary of the album did too. And Valdez kept working, adding details -- painting fonts to match old documents, even precisely mimicking their hue. "It had to feel like the colors of the album. It had to feel like a Dukes car, and it had to be my work. And I was at such a crossroads with my work." In retrospect, Valdez says, it wasn't any one thing that tripped him up, or some spell the truck was working on him. It was something much more prosaic but necessary: his own evolution. "I've always had this tug of war with my work. Not just the subject, but the process. You see the fight in it."
If anything was working its spell on him it was the story that he was retelling about the city, the persistence of an embattled community. "It's been a complete awakening as far as my work ethic goes," says Valdez, who has now decided to make a go of it in L.A. "Everybody learns to hustle here. And I don't mean a street-hustle mentality. I mean like people working to make it," he says.
It wasn't simply the city's burgeoning art scene -- the proliferating galleries, new cutting-edge work, the artists' migration. "There's an energy to this city, both politically and socially. Everything seems magnified. It's been a real awakening for me," says Valdez. "Growing up, I've been in tune with my political views, but here I see them acted out -- the student walkouts, the protests over the South-Central farm. And that energy has made me see my work, and the purpose of it, in a whole new light. It's sort of like a punch in the stomach."
That's been enough to make him throw himself into the ring, to make a life here. He's found a place in Boyle Heights and a gallery in Culver City -- Western Project. His solo show, which just opened, is up through Oct. 27. He's even playing trumpet in a band, Ollin.
But soon now, Valdez knows, he'll wake up and this truck won't be "the first thing that I see when I start my day and it won't be the last thing I see when I end my day, and that's going to be tough." It will soon be moving to the Petersen for the October show, and Cooder hopes to find it a long-term museum home.
As we circle the finished truck, he points out the newest additions -- ghost figures, more tire tracks, graffiti here, all those obsessive details. "It's an ongoing story. It happens to all of us, whatever you want to call it -- urban renewal, gentrification. It affects me, it affects all of us," he says. "The piece, it's political. Sure it's cultural, if you want to label it specifically, but I think beyond that, it's an American theme. That's America regardless of era." We make our way to the hood of the truck, the end of the story. The stadium glows in full color, hot-lighted, stands filled. And there Valdez has painted himself in next to Cooder. They sit side by side in the cholo seats, taking in a night game. He didn't get lost -- his footprints are there, an indelible sign. His X marks the spot.
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