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March 04, 2016

A Private Estate's Incredible Stash of Contemporary Art

Los Angeles is a pretty modern city, so you'd expect it to have an abundance of contemporary art.

And it does...if you can find it.

Nowadays, probably the first contemporary art destination that comes to mind for locals and visitors alike is The Broad—mostly because it's new and shiny. But many of the pieces in its collection (at least of those that are on display in its inaugural show) had already been on view at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, in the Broad Contemporary Art Museum at LACMA.

Of course, there's always the Museum of Contemporary Art, across the street from and now standing in the shadow of The Broad on Grand Avenue in Downtown LA. With the exception of their street art show a couple of years ago, it's always seemed like the more exciting scene in contemporary art has been at the galleries in Downtown or Hollywood or Koreatown or Mid-Wilshire.

After all, it's no MoMA. In my experience, you're better off heading to El Segundo or Pasadena to take in some modern art.

But lo and behold, one of the largest private collections of contemporary art in the U.S. resides right here in Beverly Hills, at the Frederick R. Weisman Art Foundation.

It's technically a museum run as a non-profit out of a former private home in the Holmby Hills neighborhood, up the road from Michael Jackson's former mansion and within spitting distance of where Walt's Barn used to reside on Carolwood Drive.



Of course, you wouldn't know it when passing by the entrance, which looks like it belongs to any other humble estate in the area. That is, you wouldn't know unless you paid attention to the bronze sculpture stationed by the gate.



A menagerie of sculptures greet visitors along the driveway...



...strategically placed to intermingle both sculptors and styles.



Some are nestled in the hedges, waiting for you to discover them...



...while others stand guard by the door.



Fred Weisman was a Minnesotan industrialist who made his fortune first through Hunt Foods and subsequently as the first stateside distributor of Japanese cars in the 1970s. He bought this 1920s Mediterranean estate—which was designed by Gordon B. Kaufmann (of Greystone MansionSanta Anita Racetrack, and Hoover Dam fame)—in 1982, as a new bachelor looking for somewhere to put all the 20th century art he'd been acquiring with all that money he'd been making.


Photo: Frederick R. Weisman Foundation Facebook page 

His former home is more or less frozen in time at the point at which he and his second wife, Billie, moved into another home a few blocks away. They'd been welcoming lots of visitors to view their art collection (including two Clyfford Stills and a few by Lichtenstein and Rucha); and as a result, they hadn't been getting any privacy. So, when they moved out, they left it "as is," to show what it would be like to live in a home, surrounded by art.


Photo: Frederick R. Weisman Foundation Facebook page 

Not only that, but if anyone were to live here now, they'd be surrounded by a cache of some of the most important contemporary artists and works in the world. I'm talking not only Warhol (who was Fred's close personal friend), but also Cézanne, Pollack, Rothko, Calder, Klee, and Kandinsky. You'd wake up to Willem de Kooning's beloved "Pink Angels" painting (paired with his "Dark Pond"), have lunch with Magritte's "The Mysteries of the Horizon," and read a book across from Picasso's "Mother and Child" (from his Blue Period). There would be a Giacometti self portrait (either a painting or a sculpture) at nearly every turn.



If you were to walk onto the patio to take a dip in the pool, you'd be greeted by "Adam" and "Eve," two of several Botero bronzes arranged throughout the property.



The voluptuous figures designed by the Colombian sculptor intermingle with bronze sculptures from Japan, bronze sculptures painted white to look like plaster...



...and some fanciful robots by Tom Otterness.



The house might not look like much from the front...



...but 'round back, it's clear that this is a sprawling (though oddly shaped) property with steep slopes...



...whose outdoor collection above the ravine...



...is just as important as the one indoors.



And the architecture—as lovely and historic as it is—has taken a backseat to the art.



French doors and windows were removed and blocked off to create more space for hanging paintings...



...and patios and porches were closed off to house custom-made furniture and sculptures.



Although it's a permanent collection, with only two pieces having been added (both in 2014) since they moved out, a few pieces are occasionally loaned out to other museums, so it is possible to miss something during a tour. Besides, it's just impossible to take it all in in one visit.



By 1991, Fred had remarried and had amassed so much art and had used up so much free space in the main house (even hanging paintings on the ceiling)...



...that he commissioned a post-modern annex to be built to hold some of his larger sculptural pieces...


Photo: Frederick R. Weisman Foundation Facebook page

...including his collection of Andy Warhol's Marilyns.



At one point during my tour, I rounded the corner of a room and came face-to-face with a "super realistic" sculpture of a naked man and woman in an embrace (the masterful work of Duane Hanson). Without thinking, I said, "Whoa."



My docent laughed. "Fred would've loved that," she said. "That's exactly the reaction he wanted."



It may seem that there's no rhyme or reason to a collection that's so diverse. How can the same collector treat figurative art equally with abstract, expressionism, cubism, surrealism, Post-War, and pop art? How can the works of masters be hung alongside those of unknowns?

Since Fred passed away in 1994, he's not here to  explain it to us. But then again, I don't think he could have even when he was alive.

Somehow, it makes a certain sense to view an Alan Siegel chair next to a Keith Haring, surrounded by chintz, woodblock prints, photo collages, a video installation by Nam June Paik, and an infinity mirror and other optical illusions.

We may not have a Whitney or a Guggenheim or a Tate Modern, but we've got a world-class contemporary art collection stashed away in a villa with hand-painted ceilings, gifted to us by an eccentric philanthropist with eclectic taste and a knack for championing the underdog before the rest of the world catches on.

Related Posts:
Photo Essay: The Broad Museum & Its One Big Draw
Photo Essay: The Donald M. Kendall Sculpture Gardens
Photo Essay: A Fairy Tale World of Sculpture, Tile and Glass
Naturalist Urban Wanderer Seeks Same

March 03, 2016

Photo Essay: A Swim on a Sea Creature Carousel [Updated for 2026]

[Last updated 4/24/26 3:47 PM PT—Sadly, the King Triton carousel on Paradise Pier (now called Pixar Pier) at Disney's California Adventure theme park closed in 2018 and was replaced in 2019 by Jessie's Critter Carousel, with a Toy Story theme. Jump to the bottom of this post ⬇️ for a photo.]

I've ridden a few carousels in my day.



And although I tend to prefer the antique ones, I can't resist a good modern menagerie collection that stands out from other contemporary carousel designs.



The LA Zoo's "Conservation Carousel," where you get to take a ride on various endangered animals (a gorilla, a bald eagle), is noteworthy...



...but at Disney California Adventure's King Triton Carousel on Paradise Pier...



...you get to take a "swim" with various sea creatures.

March 01, 2016

Photo Essay: The Island That Prisoners Pioneered

Santa Cruz Island has a similar history to Santa Rosa Island in terms of ranching, habitat devastation thanks to feral pigs and sheep, and endangered and nearly extinct species of both flora and fauna (including the island fox).

But, like Santa Rosa, it's on the road to recovery—and it's been free of pigs since 2006.

It's considered one of those great "day trip destinations" of the Channel Islands; but for me, it's so frustrating to take a 25-mile boat ride out (which, in our case, took four hours with all of the birding we did)...



...come up ashore at Prisoner's Harbor for an hour and a half just to see what we can see, and then turn around and take another long boat ride back. I don't even like doing Catalina in one day.



But if this was how I was going to get onto Santa Cruz—the largest and most rugged of the Channel Islands, named by the Spanish after a "sacred cross"—so be it.



And it turns out, there's a lot to see, although it's only the eastern 24 percent of the island that you can visit without a permit. (Access to the remaining 76 percent is tightly controlled by the Nature Conservancy.)



Fortunately, there are some historic ranch buildings that are close to the Prisoner's Harbor pier...



...including a red brick double barn that dates back to 1887.



Beyond that, most of the hiking trails would take longer than an hour and a half to tackle as an out-and-back...



...but then again, most of the people on our boat trip to Santa Cruz were there for birds, not trails.



After all, we'd docked at the island to look for the Island Scrub Jay, endemic to this particular island.



They're not too hard to find as long as you can recognize its call, which isn't exactly musical.



After spotting our one scrub jay, we climbed up one of the old dirt ranch roads that, if we had continued on it, would eventually lead to Del Norte Camp.



Given the sun and the heat and the time constraints, we were happy to take it at a leisurely pace, taking in the ocean view...



...and marveling at the Giant Coreopsis plants...



...whose stalks are so sturdy, they really are like little trees.



While we stuck to the National Parks Service side of the island, being sure not to trespass onto Nature Conservancy property...



...we spotted a lone island fox, hunting for somebody's hiking pack to root through.



Although our time on the island was all too brief...



...we did have enough time to climb the Pelican Bay Trail (which technically is maintained by Nature Conservancy, but was on this side of the No Trespassing sign)...



...up to Harvey's Lookout, where 19th and early 20th century island watchmen would look for ships in the channel through a telescope.



It's just one indication of the historical commercial use of Santa Cruz Island, which more or less started when a bunch of Mexican prisoners were dropped off here as part of the plan to increase California's Mexican presence after gaining independence from Spain.



Those convicted criminals were the pioneers of the modern settlement of Santa Cruz Island, and they quickly went to work.



At the end of the day—unlike the birds that flew here and never left, or the foxes that hitchhiked or rafted their way over—we had a boat to take us back to the mainland.



But it wasn't until that late afternoon trip through the swells that we saw the most amazing sight of our trip: an unbelievably dense and active pod of dolphins that swam right behind us...



...breaching and diving us if to usher us to safety with a grand send-off of splashing dorsal and tail fins.

Of course, one visit to Santa Cruz Island won't be enough, since there's apparently lots more to see at Scorpion Bay, Potato Harbor, and Smuggler's Cove.

Which of the Channel Islands will I hit next?

I can't wait to find out.

Related Posts:
Photo Essay: Birding the Channel Islands
Photo Essay: The Island the Ranchers Left Behind
Photo Essay: The Wildflowers, Oaks, and Rare Pines of Santa Rosa Island
An Island Calling
Photo Essay: Up and Into Catalina's Wild Interior