John Altoon was an important character in the Los Angeles art scene of the 1950s and '60s. His boisterous personality and enthusiasm energized the circle of artists associated with the Ferus Gallery; a nexus of L.A. avant-gardism that included such still influential figures as Ed Keinholtz, Robert Irwin, Ed Moses, Larry Bell, and Ed Ruscha.

Ferus Gallery Artists, 1959
From Left: John Altoon, Craig Kauffman, Allen Lynch, Ed Kienholz,
Ed Moses, Robert Irwin, Billy Al Bengston
Photograph by  Patricia Faure

There's no evidence, however, that John Altoon the artist, the maker of paintings, was particularly important to anybody. Reflecting this, in 1971, when the County Museum of Art organized a survey of L.A. art of the '60s, Altoon's name didn't even appear in the exhibition's catalog.

So why did the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego, which generally commits its energies to the newest and most "edgy" art, recently devote nearly all of its exhibition space to a retrospective of this long obscured artist?

The answer appears to be a mix of convenience, economics, and perhaps a bit of wishful thinking.

As for convenience, the museum's holdings include more than 40 Altoon works, and many others are held in nearby collections. Thus, a big show could be put together for relatively little cost; an important economic motive for a museum which just went through a major, high-priced rebuilding campaign.

One might add, too that the show would satisfy the museum's stated interest -- one enacted only occasionally in any serious way -- in exhibiting Southern California art, and thus would tend to silence those who criticize MCA for its fascination with art produced far to the east, the south, and beyond.

Though not especially noble and art-focused, these are reasonable enough reasons for an Altoon exhibition.

But there's also the matter of the artist's personality; this boisterous, hard-drinking, skirt-chasing man plagued by bouts of depression alternating with episodes of mania that often turned destructive and ugly. And he had died young, at the age of 44, from a massive heart attack.

It sounds very VanGogh-ish, very romantic, very temptingly Hollywood. One can only hope, however, that considerations of personality issues played no part in the decision to present this show. In art, as opposed to novels and Hollywood movies, only the art should matter. After all, we wouldn't give a damn about VanGogh if he'd been a lousy painter; and we don't stop giving a damn about Giotto, even though we know almost nothing about him.

This points to the main problem with the idea of a John Altoon exhibition. The problem is Altoon's art.

It's good art, but it's not all that good. It's too much like the other good art produced by many other artists of the time who lacked sufficient insight and vision to break free of existing fashion. As a result, these artists could only follow, not lead; could only interpret, embellish, and refine; not define, as the first rank of art demands.

While many artists take on this challenge, few succeed. Along the way, however, they produce works that are distinctive, personal, and captivating to the eye. These artists are, simply and typically, artists; living the life of art, as Altoon did, with all its wonders and sadnesses. In the end, their work shows just how difficult and demanding art is, in any time, in any style.

This is what is seen in MCA's "John Altoon."