For the past forty years I have walked a line between abstraction and representation. Personal, nostalgic, and intensely focused, my paintings are of things as I remember them, where the odd meets the familiar. I grew up in post-WWII Los Angeles, the daughter of the renowned concert violinist Israel Baker (who was responsible for the screeching violins of the shower scene in Hitchcock's Psycho). His friendships with noted colleagues brought guests like Igor Stravinsky, Jascha Heifetz and Henry Miller to our home. Certain memories from my childhood in the Los Angeles of the '50s became fodder for my paintings, in particular a towering female leg atop the Sanderson Hosiery Building (immortalized in the iconic photo by Max Yavno), the gasworks along the freeway in downtown, Gerald McBoing-Boing (the wordless child in Jules Engel's cartoons), and the haunted streets of German Expressionist paintings in the many art books in our home library.
Likewise, the subjects chosen in my paintings are both heroic and menacing, each monumentally posed against a horizon-less backdrop in bitingly acidic color. The work is painted with matte, flat, highly saturated acrylic, a technique derived from working in the textile business early in my career when - pre-computer - designs were hand-painted in gouache. To create dimensionality, I employ a wood grain effect to give the impression of material and texture. From my perspective as the painter, I consider them portraits, and therefore present them face on, looming above the viewers, or glancing at them obliquely - but always unflinchingly, with unblinking clarity.
I work in the space between meaning and uncertainty, where everything extraneous is eliminated, nothing is equivocal, and nothing is random.