Artist Earl Newman is perhaps best known for his series of more than 50 silk-screened Monterey Jazz Festival posters, the entire collection of which resides in the Smithsonian National Museum of American History. Beyond the Smithsonian, however, few people have ever heard of Earl or seen his amazing work.
I first met Earl in 1978, when he was hawking his wares at the Sawdust Festival, an annual, indoor arts and crafts fair at Lewis and Clark College in Portland, Oregon. My first impressions of Earl as I approached his booth: (1) he's kinda short and impish, (2) he seems personable, (3) he's an interesting mix of intense and calm. I wanted to get to know this man, even if I wasn't necessarily interested in what he was selling.
But as I got closer to his booth, I started to get interested in what he was selling. His silkscreened posters were colorful, playful, immediately and effortlessly accessible, quite well executed and produced, and, for a recent college grad who was living on his own for the first time, affordable. For a 23 x 35-inch poster, Earl was charging just $6—or two for $10.
I bought two.
More than three decades later, after my two Earl Newman posters had grown tattered from posting, removing, and re-posting them on several living-room walls, Earl's path and mine crossed yet again. This time we were both guests at a 2012 New Year's Day party hosted by a mutual friend of ours in Kings Valley, Oregon. I recognized Earl immediately, and reminded him of our brief encounter at the Sawdust Festival in the previous millennium. While he graciously acted like he remembered me, and I almost believed him because he sounded so sincere, I doubt he could have, considering the thousands of customers he must've served in the interim.
But no matter. Reconnecting with Earl, on a personal level this time instead of a transactional one, led to a friendship that endures to this day, with Earl now in his early 90s and me in my late 60s. Over the past several years, my wife and I have visited Earl numerous times at his country home in Summit, Oregon; talked him out of an original piece (for a paltry $300) inspired by his surfer daughter April (who is now his caregiver); had him over to our house for dinner and informal gatherings; attended wine-tasting parties at his place; sat with him in front of the music stage at the annual Summit Summer Festival; visited his booth—and had wine with him behind the booth—at the fabled Oregon Country Fair; hired him to create the cover for a magazine I edited; and, of course, bought several more of his posters, including, most recently, this beauty from the 1965 Monterey Jazz Festival:
Even today as a nonagenarian, Earl is still producing art. He seems driven to make art right up to the moment he draws his final breath. I imagine that one day his daughter April will find him slouched over his drawing table, pastel stick in hand, his head resting on a wash of brilliant color recently applied to some fantastical scene from a dream only Earl Newman could've had—and only Earl Newman could've found a way to share with the world…at a price almost anyone can afford.
That day will be a sad one, but it will also be a happy one for anyone who knew Earl and was fortunate enough to share a moment or two with him, if only as a customer purchasing some small keepsake, a stirring or playful or beautiful or whimsical reminder of Earl's great heart and immense talent.
Before that day arrives, I want to say just one more time: Thank you, Earl. For everything.
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