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KEITH LEBANZON and the BOBCAT BRUSH
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A Rude Discovery
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It was gone. There was an empty space in the bed of my pick-up truck where my backpack should have been. I had been visiting Jim Miller in a remote area of Butte Creek Canyon and had only been in the house for a few minutes. I scanned the area and saw the scattering of hippie shacks and homemade houses but no other sign of life. The pack itself was replaceable. However, inside the pack was a half finished journal and my watercolor box. Inside the box was my prized one-of-a-kind Sumi brush made by Keith Lebanzon.
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Keith
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A year later I was living in Seattle and I found out that Keith lived in Portland, Oregon. I called him and told him the story of my lost brush. He said that he had just finished making a nice brush out of Silver Fox and volunteered to mail it to me on approval. It arrived and was indeed one of the most beautiful brushes I had seen. Yet, I did not think it was the right brush for me. I told Keith this and he said that it would be best for me to drive to Portland to select my brush in person.
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I drove to Portland and began a friendship with one of the most wonderfully eccentric people I have met. Knowing Keith’s brushes with their exotic animal hair and bamboo root handles, I expected to meet a tranquil, Zen-like character. What I discovered was much more interesting.
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I met Keith in the basement of a house owned by his brother in Beaverton. I could not see the floor through a chaotic litter of scraps of animal pelts and bamboo cuttings. His work area was a well worn stuffed chair facing away from a television that was running without sound. He chain-smoked Camel cigarettes but did not use an ashtray. He would fling his butts across the room to a corner of the concrete floor where there was already a large pile of butts. When he took a break, he would go into a hallway where he would play “horse” with a nurf basketball and hoop. He would also play fetch and tug-of-war with fur scraps and a small, insanely wired dog.
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We went through his inventory of brushes. I saw a graceful Kolinsky Marten brush displayed on the wall and said “that one.” He protested that “that one is not for sale.” I persisted and he relented. I also picked out a Moose brush to give as a gift to the Seattle sculptor and Sumi master George Tsutakawa. I handed Keith two one hundred dollar bills.
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Bobcat
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After I returned to Seattle, I called Keith and inquired if he had a Bobcat pelt. Bobcats have a particular significance for me. When I was twenty-two, I was hiking in Mojedska Canyon in Southern California. Ahead of me on the trail, I saw what I thought was a medium sized dog. I realized that it was a large Bobcat. I quickened my pace as it went around a bend in the trail. I snuck up to the turn as quietly as possible and peered around the corner. Standing very close in full side view was the Bobcat staring directly at me. It immediately sprang up the hillside, stopping halfway up. It turned to stare at me and soon the hillside became a blur of color with only the Bobcat’s face in focus. I related this experience to a co-worker in Seattle and he proclaimed, “You had a Cheshire Cat experience!”
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When I made my inquiry about a Bobcat pelt to Keith, he hemmed and hawed and said that he didn’t think it would make a good brush. I said, “Come on. I’m paying cash. Don’t you have a Bobcat pelt?” He said, “Well, I do. But it is my dog’s favorite toy.” After more urging he said, “I think there is a section of nice, long belly hair that is not chewed up too bad.” I paid him one hundred dollars to make this brush and one hundred dollars for a Coyote brush that I gave to George Tsutakawa.
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I do not use the bobcat brush often. I try to only use it when it might be meaningful. I know this could sound unreasonable. But I will never forget the last time that Kathy and I visited George Tstuakawa towards the end of his life. I asked Mrs. Tsutakawa if George ever used the brush I gave him. She said “No. He was afraid that he might do something mediocre.” I understand this. One time that I did connect with the bobcat brush was at Point Reyes. We were camped above Sculptured Beach and I filled up a sketchbook with brush drawings. Only two were worth developing.
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Addendum
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The last time I saw Keith was at a fine craft show in San Francisco’s Fort Mason. It was a great surprise to see him there. He was more grey and grizzled but irrepressible as always. A few years later as I wrote this account about Keith, I got curious about how he was doing. This is when I learned that he passed away on September 21, 2008. Here’s to you Keith. In an art world full of eccentric characters, you were of the first magnitude. You made a big impression on me and my brushes are among my most treasured possessions.
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