Sandow Birk is a real renaissance man. His exceptional, provocative and socially conscious work has garnered a small but passionate following from the Juxtapoz set, as well as the international art community. Formally trained, Fulbrighted and Guggenheimed, Sandow brings Old-Master talent and an amazing sensibility to all that he does.  In my surf industry days, I was luck enough to meet Sandow, through local Sunset beach surfer, and art patron, Greg Escalante.

Working across all mediums, both public and private, Sandow is a painter, sculptor, muralist, puppeteer, and filmmaker. He is a respected muralist, creating pieces for L.A. County lifeguards, public transportation, and the City of Long Beach. His best known work is his most ironic: “Prisonation,” plein air-like landscapes of California’s state prisons, and “In Smog and Thunder,” oils depicting a contemporary civil war between San Francisco and Los Angeles.

I’m awed by the scope of his creativity and multi-media talent—but naturally, I’m particularly fond of Sandow’s surf pieces. These aren’t the lyrical watercolors of John Severson or Pettibon’s punk aesthetic. Sandow’s surf series take a look at important world events—all from the surfer’s point of view. Connecting surfing to the maritime world, writ large, Sandow believes the surfer’s a kin of sailors: both watch tides, chart storms and share an intimate knowledge of their home ports.  Up until 10 years ago, my taste in surf art was kitsch, garage sale, or an oversized one-sheet from a 60′s Hollywood surf film.

Like his other work, Sandow’s surf paintings nod to the iconic, like Gericault’s “The Raft of Medusa” and Leutze’s “Washington Crossing the Delaware.”

As part of an overall committment to surf art, I saw Sandow’s surf pieces at the Laguna Art Museum, and was inspired by his surfer’s view of history. I was particularly taken by a massive 8’X8’ oil, “The Release of Nelson Mandela from Robben Island Prison, Cape Town, South Africa-March 12, 1989.” Sandow’s painting depicts the historic release of the South African who was to lead his country and become president. As the boat leaves Robben Island, site of one of South Africa’s most notorious prisons, surfers in the foreground ride perfect right handers, oblivious to the internationally newsworthy event nearby.

Heavy? Maybe.

For two years, the painting hung on loan in front of my office door.  I studied it daily, and through some passionate pleading and horsetrading, I acquired Sandow’s “The Release of Nelson Mandela…” four years ago. Its massive scale and social commentary make an interesting juxtaposition between my “found” surf art and Pettibons.

Bitchin’? Absolutely.

My art-collecting friends have been consistent in the one thing they tell me: “Buy what you love.”

As a collector of many things, as detailed here, I’ve acquired art that has specific meaning to me: a Glen E. Friedman Dog Town-era Tony Alva photo from 1977, a 1960s Laguna Beach oil painting by George Michaud that hung in my house as a kid, and some amazing “found” surf photos and paintings I always discovered while looking for other stuff, mostly vintage furniture and car parts.

So buying what I love came naturally, because I only picked up and kept stuff along the way that I really like.

You may have gotten from earlier posts that I am a bit nostalgic, especially around things surf and South Bay. Growing up in Manhattan Beach in the ’70s was a different time. Manhattan had yet to become the “disco” beach suburb that, I regret to say, it has become. People lived here because they loved the beach, surf, and volleyball. A small-town vibe where teachers, lifeguards and firemen could afford to live in the town where the worked and served their neighbors. Those days are gone.

During the late 1970s and early ‘80s, L.A. boasted a well documented punk music scene, and I was lucky enough to see many great shows at various venue: The Police, 1979, at both the Whisky and Hollywood Park racetrack, all the major ska bands at the Whisky and, a week of Clash shows at the Hollywood Palladium.

The South Bay had its own scene, defined by local bands Black Flag and the Circle Jerks. The Black Flag ethos was defined a relentless beat, Henry Rollins’s vocals and Raymond Pettibon concert flyers and album art. As the brother of Black Flag founder, Mike Ginn, Pettibon’s monochromatic, anti-authoritarian style became synonymous with the band. This recognition allowed Pettibon, who still lives in Hermosa Beach, to begin an art career in earnest–to amazing success. While some of his images and subject matter are provocative, his surf imagery is truly without equal.

While Surfer Magazine founder and artist, John Severson, defined the “wave” aesthetic in the 1960s, Pettibon’s perfect barrels, and use of subtle and not so subtle coloring, has earned him an international following of surfers, museums and serious art collectors. This lead not only to amazing accolades, but a Whitney Biennial exhibition in 2004, along with a Bucksbaum award.

Not all of these are surf images, in fact, most aren’t. But these are the paintings and drawings that I have lusted after. I follow the major auction houses (Phillips, Christies, Sotheby’s) closely, and am always on the hunt for a surf picture that I can afford. There are a couple of non-surf monochromatic pieces in next week’s Phillips contemporary art sale. There are also some great Pettibon books, Plots Laid Thick, is a favorite. Although it sounds weird, there is also a very cool Pettibon beach towel, part of an amazing artists series.

I’ve gotten lucky over the years, and picked up some good examples, at prices I could afford.

With too many interests, and too little time, I’ve had to edit my collections, staying focused, and after years of searching, Pettibon’s have made it into the collection. Buying what I love has been the filter.