George F. Bedell
photo images

Greek Cross. 2008.

A telephone pole casts a long shadow across a wall, vaguely in the shape of a Byzantine Orthodox Cross. The image was taken in East Los Angeles on a bright, late afternoon towards the end of summer. Its religious implication is pure happenstance. As for any spiritual significance, all art is spiritual in essence.

Big Pink. 2010.

The color of the wall is unsettled—and to a sensitive eye unsettling. Is it pink or orange? My choice is pink. Whatever color, it jarringly offsets the blue of the door, signs, stripes, and concrete car stop, all the same hue as the sky. I doubt that the working environment behind the metal door is as colorful as the building’s exterior. But my concerns, as always, are more formal than representational.

The Tree Is An Overworked Metaphor. 2014.

Southern California. The title says it all.

Blocked Landscape. 2011.

One can understand the need for a chain-linked fence for the sake of security. But one wonders why a tarp is used behind the mesh to block the view beyond. There is nothing behind this barrier that is tempting or a security risk. So, why block the view? It might have something to do with pride of authority. But, again, my concern is primarily the scene’s formal composition.

Fathers’ Day I. 2007.

This picture was taken on Fathers’ Day the year after my father’s death. The impenetrable blankness, emptiness, and vacancy of this image seem an apt metaphor for the end of a good man’s life.

Father's Day II. 2007.

Both Father's Day I and II were taken on Fathers’ Day the year after my father’s death. The impenetrable blankness, emptiness, and vacancy of this image seem an apt metaphor for the end of a man’s life.

Ghost in a Window. 2015.

A shop window in the midst of renovation. The site is Colorado Blvd, at the tail end of historic Route 66, on the western outskirts of Pasadena. The ‘ghost' that the title alludes to is the hanging plastic drapery. However, my concerns here were more formal than either representational or supernatural.

Homage to Georges Noel. 2013. 

One of my finest teachers was the painter Georges Noel. Despite (or maybe because of) his background as a physicist, he impressed upon me the value of raw experience. He claimed that Western European art was too intellectual, and he preferred the intuitive approach of American artists. The texture and color of the wall reminded me of the paintings Georges completed the year he taught me, which were shaped canvasses covered with sand and oil paint. This photo was created in a rare instance of pure impulse rather than prodding analysis before pressing the shutter. The last time I saw Georges was in 1997 at a retrospective of his work in Paris. He said, “Artists should be happy.”

Further Down Walnut Street. 2015.

Sidewalks and walls have become a standard part of my repertoire. Looking intensely at them, one can find a good deal of variety and meaning. The formal aspect of this scene is reminiscent of those American artists, such as Barnet Newman, who in the mid-20th Century were working their way out of abstract expressionism toward a more hard-edged, visual presentation.

Homage to Jerry Kolbinger. 2015.

Shot in a small business area on the outskirts of Pasadena. The sprightly play of shadows and sudden splashes of vibrant color near the edges of the composition put me in mind of a high agile high school literature instructor I had many years ago. However, my concerns here are more formal than representational. 

End of the Line. 2011.

Taken in an industrial area on the outskirts of Pasadena on a bright Sunday afternoon. The site reminded me of the work that the Bulgarian artist Christo Vladimirov Javacheff was doing in the late sixties. Christo and I had only one encounter. It was in a sculpture foundry in Minneapolis. I can quote our conversation verbatim. Christo: “Quick! Where is the air compressor?” Me: “I don’t know.” What I remember most vividly about him was the elaborate way he tied his shoelaces.

Hot Pink Dress, Homage to Ramon Muxter. 2008.

Years ago, I knew the street photographer Ramon Muxter. Not long after his death, I came across a caustic pink dress hanging in a Goodwill store window in Pasadena. It reminded me of a photo Ramon took in Paris’ Jardin des Tuileries. It was a view of the back of a rather dwarfish woman strolling along in an oversized dress of the same color. I liked Muxter. I enjoyed his humor, his mad panache, and I admired his skill at going straight to the murky bottom of any situation. Unlike Muxter, this picture is as close as I want to come to depicting the human form.

Clueless.2012.

I was attracted to the scene's off-kilter orientation. The courses of bricks, making up the wall, slope downward toward the right. The colors are muted except for the sheaths on the cable supports of an unseen power pole, which slope downward toward the left. These elements lend the picture an unsettled mood.