Word: westermann
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...first glance, the constructions of H. C. Westermann seem as innocent as something made for a child. Many of them look like dollhouses and, like dollhouses, have doors that open and windows to peer through into magical interiors where tiny figures go about their unknown business. But wait. Take the centerpiece of a comprehensive show of Westermann's work mounted at the Los Angeles County Museum. Its title is the first eye opener: Memorial to the Idea of Man If He Was an Idea. The figure's mouth is an angry gap, its nose vaguely phallic, its ears...
Sometime Gandy Dancer. Just why this should be, Westermann himself is unable to explain. He is an avowed anti-intellectual who insists that he never reads books. At 46, he still likes to stand on his hands with a cigar in his mouth. After all, he was once a professional acrobat-and he likes cigars. The son of a Los Angeles accountant, he took off as a youth for the logging camps of the Pacific Northwest. Since then, he has worked as a carpenter, plasterer and handyman, fought as a Marine in two wars before hitting upon his present trade...
During his knockabout years, Westermann acquired an irreverent imagination and a keen respect for craftsmanship. The Last Ray of Hope is a highly polished pair of workman's boots (he spent two weeks polishing them) set on a platform of linoleum foil and enclosed in an immaculately machined glass box. They suggest a display in the front window of some country store with a cracker barrel and iron stove in side. The title apparently has some obscure relevance in Westermann's mind to his reverence for honest workmanship. Says Westermann: "I think they are beautiful. They...
...alarm from its innards, and brass flames flick from its windows. A viewer can peer past them to discover a drawing of a grotesque dragon and miniature ladders leading to invisible upper rooms from which there is obviously no escape. What does it mean? "I have no idea," says Westermann. "I cam build a thing, but I can't nail down what it is about. I don't know what it means. I guess that must mean I'm nuts...
...HORACE) C. (for CLIFFORD) WESTERMANN, 42, is a Los Angeles-born rambler who usually turns out carpenter's daydreams consisting of mirrors and precision mitering. His work at the Whitney is a drum-shaped totem of wall-to-wall carpeting. Says he: "I don't know why I named it The Plush. If I liked analysis, I'd be a writer...