Prolific Artist Isn’t Clowning Around
Chuck Oberstein had a good job selling diamonds. He was in line to manage his chain’s newest store. Until the day a friend said, “Why are you doing this? You are an artist.” It stunned him.
“I quit that very day,” Oberstein, 61, told me in the studio of the beautiful Mission Viejo home he shares with his wife, Judy. “My family thought I was nuts. But I knew I just had to do this. It’s who I am.”
What he has become since that day 35 years ago is one of the world’s premiere clown artists. Oberstein is in such demand he is booked with requests well into next year.
Eli Broidy, manager of Addi’s Gallery at the Riviera Hotel in Las Vegas, told me this week he sells Oberstein clown art as fast as he can get it. The one large piece he has left right now goes for $5,200.
“It’s a pleasure to sell his work; he is not only a remarkable artist, but a very, very nice man,” Broidy said.
The Oberstein home is like a private art gallery. Each room is filled with magnificent pieces depicting the American West, landscapes, and clowns--lots of clowns.
You can see for yourself. The Anaheim Museum will display Oberstein’s clown art in an exhibit called “The Man Behind the Clown,” beginning Wednesday and running through Dec. 29.
Oberstein was a longtime Anaheim resident, and the museum likes to promote the city’s own. The idea for the exhibit came about after Oberstein spoke this year to the Anaheim Art Assn., which creates exhibits for the museum. It was looking for something upbeat for the holidays. “Who doesn’t love clowns?” said Faith Toon, a member of the art group who will curate the exhibit.
Oberstein’s clowns are anything but a bunch of sad faces. He’s got them playing golf, reading the Wall Street Journal, waiting in gas lines, jumping through hoops, playing the violin. Clowns are popular with buyers, Oberstein believes, because they represent freedom; clowns will do almost anything.
I wanted to know why he specialized in clowns, of course. But first I asked him to take me back to the beginning. Why an art career?
It all began with an art teacher named Warren Earl at Montebello High School. “Without him, I probably would have dropped my art,” Oberstein said. “He let me do anything I wanted; he would even write notes to teachers in my other classes so I could stay with it all day.”
When Oberstein entered the Army, he took his talent with him, creating huge murals for the buildings wherever he was stationed. After that, he got a job at Warner Bros. But he quit that one after the first day.
“They wanted me to repaint the water tower. I said, ‘I’m not a sign painter; I came here to be an artist.’ ”
He then took a variety of jobs (including sign painting) to support his growing family. The day he left the diamond business, he was clueless about how to make a living as an artist. He just knew he had to be one.
“Right away, I got very lucky,” he said. He would take his work to what used to be the Monday night street art shows along La Cienega Boulevard in Los Angeles. A nearby gallery owner loved his paintings and started selling everything he did.
Oberstein has been a success ever since, supporting his family of six without any other jobs. His larger pieces now sell in the four figures. If they are published--meaning prints are made--they often quadruple in value.
In the beginning, he did mostly landscapes. Until he got landscaped out. “One day I got an order for 13 landscapes,” he said. “I thought, I just can’t do one more of those things.”
So he turned to clowns. Clowns, he says, can do things in a clown suit the rest of us might get arrested for. And after nearly three decades of clowns, Oberstein said the ideas just keep coming.
“Unless an artist suffers a physical handicap, I really believe we get better with age,” he said.
Now he works on several pieces at once. It might take one oil on canvas two weeks to dry, he explained. You can’t sit around and wait for something to dry, and still make a living.
The hardest part of the job? Parting with something you’ve poured your soul into, Oberstein said. “You have to learn to let go. If you don’t sell, you’re not in business.”
There are exceptions. Oberstein has three paintings he insists he wouldn’t sell as originals for any amount of money.
One shows a clown kissing a clown-faced balloon, which is the one pictured with this column. Oberstein said it’s special simply because of the mechanics; everything went right for him. Another is the first painting he ever had published, a clown montage. The third hangs in the Oberstein kitchen; it’s his favorite clown, Hot Dog. The model is his wife, Judy. Judy Oberstein said it’s her favorite too.
She has a different observation about that first day, 35 years ago, when Oberstein abruptly announced he was joining the unemployed to be a full-time artist. She said she wasn’t really that surprised. “Chuck has a God-given talent, and he’s had the determination to stay with it,” she said. “I’m extremely proud of him.”
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Wrap-Up: There’s a public reception for the Oberstein exhibit from 4 to 6 p.m. Sunday, Nov. 9, at the museum. Oberstein has given the museum a poster from one of his works, which he will sign during that time. The posters sell for $10, and the proceeds will be divided among the museum, the host art association, and the City of Hope.
If you don’t make it to the museum, you can get a good look at Oberstein’s works on the Internet at www.northstarart.com.
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Jerry Hicks’ column appears Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Readers may reach Hicks by calling the Times Orange County Edition at (714) 966-7823 or by fax to (714) 966-7711, or e-mail to jerry.hicks@latimes.com
