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    Nothing says kitsch like black velvet

    The American Gauguin is on display through the weekend at a downtown Seattle gallery space. His chosen medium? Black velvet.

    Edward Leeteg's Tahitia, circa 1950.

    Edward Leeteg's Tahitia, circa 1950. Carl Baldwin

    The close of Seattle Art Museum’s latest retrospective presents us with an opportunity to reflect on the innovation and daring of an artist who ably conveyed the languid essence of the South Seas.

    Paul Gauguin?

    Nope — Edgar Leeteg, the master of black velvet painting, whose pictures of nubile nudity adorned post-war Polynesian-themed bars throughout the U.S.

    Beginning Friday, a collection of Leeteg paintings owned by local collector David Price will be exhibited at his ad hoc gallery 1016 Alley Arts, the entrance of which is located in the alley behind Hotel 1000, between First and Second Avenues and Madison and Spring Streets. Black velvet works by Leeteg contemporary Burke Tyree will be on view as well.

    Friday’s 6 pm – 10 pm opening will feature a performance by nine-piece ukulele combo, The Ukadelics. The show runs through the weekend, noon-5 pm Saturday and Sunday.  

    The provenance of Price’s Leeteg paintings is as curious as Edgar Leeteg’s biography.

    Born in 1904, Leeteg initially pursued a livelihood of billboard painting, but the onset of the Depression left him with little work and less money. In the 1930s he moved from Illinois to French Polynesia, where he refined his velvet dreams for a dozen years before meeting with a Honolulu promoter — WWII Navy vet Bernard Davis, known as “Aloha Barney” — who became the Colonel Tom Parker (Elvis' manager) of Leeteg’s art career.

    Thereafter, Davis insisted that Leteeg sign his paintings as “Leeteg of Tahiti,” which then begat the sobriquet “the American Gauguin.”

    Thriving under Davis’ guidance, the Leeteg franchise became a machine, churning out South Seas escapism much like a Damien Hirst exploit, albeit bereft of that artist’s bombast and excess.

    Leeteg’s financial rise was offset by a descent to decadence. As with his contemporary Jackson Pollock (to be sure, esteemed NYT art critic Hilton Kramer would never have put those two in the same sentence) his unslakable thirst for John Barleycorn and young women fed his notoriety. He died in a motorcycle accident in 1953, predating Pollock’s deadly car accident by three years.

    The drama of Leeteg’s life is as intriguing as the story behind Price’s Leeteg collection. The paintings originally enhanced the Seven Seas, a tiki-themed supper club opposite Grauman’s Chinese Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard. When the restaurant closed, the paintings were donated to a college in Arizona, which subsequently transferred them — breathtakingly, considering the lusty subject matter — to Brigham Young University. BYU, in turn, shipped them to the BYU Oahu campus, completing a Polynesian circle. The paintings depicting prurient interest were sold to Price; the campus has retained those with more innocuous subject matter.

    In depicting Tahitians, Leeteg would never satisfy an anthropologist’s request for verisimilitude. Both he and Gauguin can be faulted for depicting an idealized people. Unlike Gauguin’s Tahitians though, Leeteg’s subjects bear limited resemblance to the dark skinned, kinky-haired First People of the Polynesian triangle. His wahines are “honkified” — with just enough ethnicity remaining to imply exotica.

    But Leeteg was selling escapism, not National Geographic reality. During his day, the South Seas mythology in which he trafficked was nearing a 200-year run.

    That history — of white men succumbing to the charms of Tahitian women — dates to the first visit by Westerners to “Otaheite,” 1767, on the 32-gun frigate HMS Dolphin under the command of Samuel Wallis. (Upon dropping anchor he bestowed the clumsy name "King George the Third's Island” – a far cry from the loveliness of “Tahiti.”) But were the women casting a charm or simply treated as chattel to be used and discarded? According to George Robertson, Master of the Dolphin, “several of the Young Girls was drawen out, some a light coper colour others a mullato and some almost White. The old men made them stand in Rank, and made signs for our people to take which they lyked best, and as many as they liked … .”

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    Posted Fri, Apr 27, 10 a.m. Inappropriate

    Leeteg of Tahiti may also have inspired the profusion of black velvet artwork that in the 50s lined the streets of Tijuana just south of the California border. Of course the intrinsic bedroom sleaziness of the medium dominated the work and was central to its aesthetic appeal. But some of the Mexican roadside artists were accomplished painters as well.


    Posted Sat, Apr 28, 8:18 p.m. Inappropriate


    The style is selling better than ever with thousands of images coming from abroad. The appeal has broadened as well...still sleazy but moved out of the bedroom and into a more conservative limelight. (see URL)

    Most important though was that for decades it has been a highly popular medium for images of "the King."


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