It was an inconceivable place. An artist collective often called JJU, or John Joyce College, hidden within the foothills of Altadena, resembled a Sixties fever dream of communal residing. That such a neighborhood may exist in fashionable Los Angeles was a miracle to these residing there, till — in a single harrowing evening — the Eaton fireplace swallowed it complete.
When you haven’t heard of it, that’s as a result of it wasn’t really a college. It was a compound of two neighboring properties — mansions, bungalows and transformed garages — affectionately named after the 77-year-old carpenter who resided there for 26 years. He was the man you went to in case you needed to borrow a e book, had a upkeep challenge or simply needed to speak philosophy. About 30 artists lived and labored collectively, sharing artwork studios, provides, the instruments of their varied crafts and how-to information.
Joyce noticed all types of artists come and go over time; composers, sculptors, painters, efficiency artists, poets and artwork professors.
“We also raised amazing kids,” he mentioned, noting the various households who got here by means of.
Joyce makes use of the phrase “we” liberally when speaking about JJU, as a result of the compound was all about the advantages of togetherness. He shared movies and images of neighborhood dinners within the grand eating room and of partitions coated with artwork from those that had as soon as lived there. Numerous clips featured artists working in varied areas of the home whereas a efficiency artist named Michelle Garduno danced or napped with a CPR doll. Everyone, Joyce mentioned, donated a bit of artwork to the neighborhood upon leaving.
“The whole notion of individualism is a complete fraud,” Joyce mentioned. “We had common areas where people could do whatever they wanted. We had a photo studio set up. We had painting studios going on. We had shows in there. We used it for everything. Even the yard — there were lots of big sloppy paintings in the yard.”
The stays of the house base for the artist collective often called John Joyce College in Altadena after the Eaton fireplace.
(John Joyce)
The primary home had a lending library stuffed with artwork books and catalogs, and folks from the encompassing neighborhood got here for annual events. The range of the neighborhood — a melting pot from world wide — was additionally a part of the world’s cosmic draw.
“There were working-class people next to JPL [Jet Propulsion Laboratory] people, next to Caltech people, next to Hollywood people,” Joyce mentioned. “Everybody got along.”
Painter Susannah Mills, who for the final decade lived in a transformed storage at JJU, mentioned that one mansion on the compound was in-built 1890 by a French artist and later turned an orphanage run by Catholic nuns. Its present proprietor, Jeff Ricks, purchased it greater than 30 years in the past and commenced populating it with artists, together with Joyce, who additionally managed the property.
Mills mentioned that when she first arrived on the compound, Joyce helped her get arrange. He made positive she had the artwork provides and furnishings she wanted.
“From that point forward, I knew I had just found this misfit community,” Mills mentioned. “That’s what we were like. Many of us were people without families. We all had dogs and cats, and we were all artists. I never worried about anything. I always felt safe there. We all just loved each other.”
The neighborhood constructed an exhibition space known as the Slim Gallery in one of many homes, and that’s the place Mills staged her first present. Her lease was lower than $1,000 monthly; Ricks by no means raised it. The low residing bills gave her the liberty to work as an end-of-life information; she additionally labored on the Altadena Group Church, an inclusive, social-justice-oriented congregation the place she helped e book occasions for neighborhood organizations. (The church additionally was destroyed within the Eaton fireplace.)
Residents of JJU have been pleasant with the folks residing at Zorthian Ranch, one other close by collective additionally misplaced to fireplace. The 48-acre artists colony was on land that muralist Jirayr Zorthian purchased within the Nineteen Forties, turning it right into a sprawling outpost for his household and ultimately a summer season arts camp for kids. Zorthian ran in bohemian circles and threw events that attracted Andy Warhol, Charlie Parker and Bob Dylan.
A figure-drawing class at Zorthian Ranch in Altadena.
(Hannah Ray Taylor)
For so long as she’s lived in Altadena, Mills mentioned, Zorthian has served as a neighborhood hub. It hosted donation-based figure-drawing and mosaic courses, in addition to workshops on find out how to shear sheep and spin wool. Zorthian’s granddaughter, Julia, lived on the ranch, together with about greater than a dozen docents and artists, and she or he mentioned the neighborhood thrived within the ordered lawlessness of the unincorporated space.
“Because Los Angeles is such a regulated city, it can be really hard to just exist as an artist,” she mentioned. “So being able to live in a space where somebody is allowing for flexibility outside of these harsh rules and regulations gave people room to flourish.”
The utopian sense of self-determination flagged a bit after the hearth, when everybody in the neighborhood scattered to the wind, however Joyce cited an amazing want to rebuild. Textual content chains are flourishing, and an thought is fermenting about utilizing transport containers as residing quarters.
Joyce was the final JJU resident on the property early Jan. 8, when a home throughout the road actually exploded from what he thinks might have been a gasoline leak. An ember from that fireside raced on the wind and lodged right into a 50-foot palm tree by the principle JJU home. Gales whipped the fronds right into a frenzy, inflicting the tree to spray embers like a sprinkler. The world round Joyce erupted in flames. Even the gravel seemed prefer it was burning.
Joyce was holding a backyard hose.
“I never felt so weak in my whole life,” Joyce recalled. “Those flames, and the sound. … It was a huge, powerful, angry animal.”