ART GONZALEZ: ARTIST, TEACHER, POLITICIAN, CITIZEN Retrospective of a Life Well-Lived
	September 2005

by Mary Lou Gonzalez-Martinez, with David Gonzalez, Lilly Gonzalez
Photos by Russell Byrne

I knew my younger brother, Art Gonzalez, all of his life and most of mine. A remarkable thing about him was that by age ten he knew he wanted to be a teacher. He would gather a class of siblings, relatives, and neighbor children right there in the middle of the apricot orchard behind the house, set up a lectern on top of some apricot boxes, and teach them English lessons, waving a stick. “Pay attention!” he used to shout. “Pay attention!” Art never had the slightest doubt about what he wanted to do.

He also staged plays in our backyard. He was the writer, producer, director, and usually had the lead part. Even at that young age, Art had organizational skills and charisma. He was in control over children older than he was. I remember mom saying, “I can’t believe what that kid’s doing!”

Our folks had eight kids and Art was the sixth. All of us were born at home. The doctor would come with the nurse, who I remember was named Mrs. Saddler. They charged our folks $125 for each child. Dad would always put the money aside and have it ready to hand over to the doctor as soon as the child was delivered.

Two of my sisters and I slept three to a bed and I remember on March 4, 1938 Arthur waking us up at 4 o’clock in the morning with his first cry. I ran in to see the new baby lying on his back and as the nurse stooped over to attend to him, he peed all over her. We were so delighted! He got her good! My sisters and I thought that morning that baby Arthur was the greatest thing on earth!

Preparing for Life and Service
All of us studied under Edna Hill before she became a school. Mrs. Hill was a great teacher! She was a strict disciplinarian, but she cared about the subjects she taught and helped her students to care about them as well. Arthur also studied under Mrs. Griffith, who Griffith Lane was named after.

Arthur was the first one in our family to go to college. He graduated from UC Sacramento, which was called Sacramento State College back in those days. Arthur was always an artist and got into art in a serious way while in college. He graduated with a degree in Art, and a minor in History.

After college he joined the Peace Corps and went to a place called Pucara, in the mountains of Peru. He learned to speak the Quecha Indian dialect and taught Spanish to the Indian children. He also performed physical labor in the bright Peruvian sunshine by helping build a library for the town.

Art always had an active curiosity backed by a sharp mind. While in Peru he did a lot of research and became somewhat of an expert on the history, people, and customs of the region. He also lived among the people with their open sewers and poverty, and sharing in their daily life and activities. He was attracted by the rich scenes and colorful people he saw all around him and began sketching and painting his surroundings with serious intent.

Arthur shared the food of the people he was living among. The Quecha cuisine is probably never destined to catch on in restaurants and dining rooms in San Francisco and New York because the staple diet is based upon insects eaten together with potatoes the size of marbles and the color of a bruise.

The story of Art’s journey back from the wilds of South America to civilization reads like the plot of an Indiana Jones movie. He had to make the trip through a part of the countryside that was being racked by civil war. At one point he could find safe passage only by hiding in the back of an ambulance that was being driven through the war-torn land.

Teacher, Learner, Politician, and World Traveler
After returning to Brentwood, Arthur began teaching Art to students at Liberty Union High School. He also taught classes in History and Spanish. He had sat in the classrooms of some of the very teachers that were now his colleagues. He took further education at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, and subsequently received a Fulbright scholarship for an exchange teacher program in England.

After receiving his Masters degree from the University of the Pacific, with a double major in Art and History, he started on his PhD studies, but got derailed by something more fascinating than studies. Art went into politics.

Almost on a whim, Art submitted his name to run for a Councilman position just before leaving town for the weekend. No one was more surprised than he was when he won the position. Perhaps that was an overstatement, because he ran against the incumbent who had a really tough time accepting his defeat at the hands of a novice like our brother was at that time.

Even though he entered the political world almost by accident, Art was serious about political service. He remained a councilman for ten years before becoming vice mayor, and then becoming the first and (so far) only Latino to be mayor of Brentwood. During his time in office he helped start Delta Transit and his name is on the commemorative plaque in Pittsburg. He is also responsible for the lampposts in the downtown, and for the decorative ironwork around the downtown trees.

Art started a holiday food-basket distribution and enlisted some of his relatives to help him deliver the baskets. He became a close colleague of Tom Torlakson, when Torlakson was still County Supervisor. During the entire time of his political service Arthur continued working in his beloved role as classroom teacher.

My brother never lost his love for travel. During his lifetime he visited 60 countries. He certainly loved the Hispanic countries and other lower-latitude places — from Italy to India. “Far away places with strange sounding names are calling, calling me,” are words that Arthur Gonzalez could have written.

Arthur dearly loved his extended family, but often missed the usual family holiday gatherings — Christmas celebrations and July 4th barbecues. When school break was on, he was usually tramping through some rain forest somewhere or perhaps making paintings and sketches of the pyramids in Belize. He always thought about us, however. While on the way back from some foreign country, he would buy us pieces of jewelry and other useful or decorative items.

Art was too fearless! We always worried that he would be mistaken for an Arab in Israel, or for a Muslim rebel in the Philippines, or for a Pakistani in India and shot because of the misunderstanding. He had the kind of complexion and features that, we imagined, might make him look like some undesirable in almost any country he might visit.

While in Mexico on one of his visits, Arthur researched our family roots and actually located the marriage contract between our Mexican grandmother and Italian grandfather that contained the words (in Spanish) “A foreigner from Naples, Italy, married to….” Foreigners were prohibited from owning land in Mexico so all property was in our grandmother’s name.

Artist, Collector, and Statesman
Arthur was very primitive in his art, using a lot of bright colors. Dad would tease him about his art because of his fondness for reds, greens, and oranges. He even painted his house with those colors. Art regarded his house as a special artistic medium and it would never look the same from one year to the next. Each wall in a room would be a different color. However, because he was a true artist, the color combinations were always pleasing. He would do the same with the outside walls, painting purple walls with orange gables. Gardening was another hobby, and even in his garden he experimented with colors, creating outdoor colors that complemented the house.

He was always experimenting, once assembling little colored stones to depict a river scene in a mosaic that he hung outside of the house to set off even further his purple and orange motif. Even when he was ill he would create an abstract work out of a few pieces of boards and set the piece on the porch to amuse (or confuse) his visitors. Our sister lives in his house and his garage is lime green to this day.

Back in the late 1960s, my brother made the first acquisitions for what would become an impressive collection of art. Wherever he went he would search for pieces to add to his collection, which finally came to include limited reproductions of works by such artists as Dali, Chagall, Picasso, Rembrandt, and others — as well as interesting pieces by local artists from the countries through which he traveled. When his collections outgrew space for their storage and display, he would give some of his works to us to make room for more.

When he became ill with his final disease, I was taking care of him and began to uncover a huge assortment of plaques, dishes, and other formal recognitions of the service that Art had given to East County during his lifetime. Many were from organizations in Brentwood, of course, but some were from as far away as Lafayette and Danville. There was even a citation from the governor of the state.

If he had remained healthy I probably never would have found all those wonderful objects acknowledging his service. Art was humble, self-effacing, never sought for credit and would never try to blow his own horn.

Arthur fought to the end against his disease. He didn’t want to leave because he felt he had so much yet to offer to his family and to his community. Like many wise and courageous people, I think, Arthur lived until he died. He succumbed to his illness on Memorial Day in 1994, following a three-year struggle. He was born at home and died at home. He was only 56 years old.

My father never learned to write or read, but in his children, particularly in Art Gonzalez, he succeeded beyond his highest hopes. The American Dream really does come true for some.

You can view a retrospect of Art Gonzalez’ life and work at the current Art Commission Gallery show in the Brentwood Business and Technology Incubator through October 21.