The Source of the Nile
by Jack Shakely

A few weeks after I took on the job of running the California Community Foundation, I was still trying to finish some writing assignments I had promised the Council on Foundations for their magazine Foundation News.

My last assignment was an interview with the legendary Sister Karen Boccalero, founder and head of Self Help Graphics, the East Los Angeles art studio that almost single-handedly spawned the Chicano Arts Movement in Southern California. The chairman of my board in those days was Sid Brody, one of the greatest art collectors in California. (He and his wife, Frances, had Matisse stay with them one summer as he created one of his "paper doll" mosaics for their home.) I thought Sid might get a kick out of a site visit to Self Help Graphics, so in sweltering heat we went to the second-story facility. Lying around in bins, leaning against walls and spread over long rough wooden tables were works by Carlos Almaraz, Leo Limon,

Gronk, Frank Romero and Patssi Valdez, relatively unknown then but destined for greatness in years to come.

"My God," Sid said to me, "I feel like we've found the source of the Nile." We bought a few pieces, and sitting with Sister Karen afterward, we learned what all West Coast artists already knew — their art and careers were much better known among the National Endowment for the Arts and other national arts funders than they were here at home. Sid and I pledged that day to create a local endowment for the arts that would not only fund local artists, but also showcase them and commission their works as well.

Although Sid died before this pledge could be fulfilled, in two years we had created a nationwide partnership among some 30 community foundations and the National Endowment for the Arts to fund emerging artists and emerging arts groups. The largest of these, by far, was the Brody Arts Fund of the California Community Foundation, with more than one million dollars in endowment.

We dedicated at least half the funds for individual artists, and to demonstrate our faith in the arts community, named Judy Baca of SPARC as our first chair.

Later, with the tremendous financial assistance of the J .Paul Getty Trust, we established a fund for artists at the peak of their career (it was always a slippery slope to define "emerging artist" anyway). In the mid-1990s we merged the two funds while retaining their interest in individual artists.

Through the years, receiving the artists' applications and serving on some of the panels became one of my greatest joys. Besides a sense of wonder and beauty, almost every artist I have ever met harbors a great sense of humor, which bubbles over often and especially if the artists think The Suits are taking themselves a little too seriously. One performance artist delivered her application dressed as Bozo the Clown and playing a uke. R'Wanda Lewis once broke out into a dance in our boardroom.

Rachel Rosenthal wrote me a thank you note with a photo of herself, bald and with a large rat on top of her head. Kent Twitchel had me up a ten-foot scaffold showing me one of his murals. I absolutely adored every moment.

The 34 artists profiled here are proof of the continuing robust nature of art in Southern California. From such well-known artists as Robbie Conal to just-now-emerging artists such as Erica Cho and Michael Sakamoto, we are moved by their creativity, insight and humor. Perhaps Sid Brody was right — Los Angeles really is the source of America's artistic Nile.

Jack Shakely was president of the California Community Foundation from 1980-2004.