Love Letter to Jessie Homer French

A painting of an oil rig in the ocean depicted like a cross section, so you can see disproportionately large fish swimming around the rig’s legs in the water below a bright blue sky with white clouds. One of the rig’s three towers is violently on fire, with grey smoke extending into the sky.
Jessie Homer French, Oil Platform Fire, 2019.

One hundred miles from Los Angeles or San Diego, two hundred and fifty miles from Las Vegas, three hundred miles from Phoenix, triangulated by these desert oases, which is to say in the middle of nowhere or maybe at the edge of the map—geography loses its meaning at the frontier—there’s an unincorporated town, population eighty-five, nestled in the San Jacinto Mountains where a woman named Jessie Homer French paints the end of the world. She may have seen the fawn there, bloodied at the mouth, left for dead and overtaken by blades of grass. But as far as I’m aware (I’ve never made the pilgrimage), there are no oil rigs in Mountain Center. Still, she paints them erupting from the ocean like a ring of fire, fish swimming around their metal torsos. The town is six thousand miles to Chernobyl, yet she paints howling wolves and bellowing moose irradiated by its nuclear waste. There is a remote fire tower overlooking San Bernardino National Forest, and I know it seems quaint or pat, but I like to imagine French working up there anyway. The very first paintings that our species imparted on caves were an expression of our natural link, and when I picture Jessie Homer French painting, in my mind I see the fire spreading toward her outpost, and her paintings have become the last paintings, her apocalyptic documents rendered into furious eulogy, forlorn and futile, as the flames reach closer toward its base.


We’re here because of you.
By becoming a monthly subscriber or making a gift of your choosing, you’re directly helping the Variable West team build a stronger, more resilient and diverse West Coast art world. Your support makes it all possible!

Subscribe

Make a one time or recurring gift

Author: Will Fenstermaker

Will Fenstermaker is a writer and editor based in New York. His writing on art, literature and culture has been published by Frieze, The Nation, BOMB, Dissent, The Brooklyn Rail, T Magazine and more. He works as an editor at Sotheby’s and as the exhibitions editor of TheGuide.art.