Trying to capture artistic inspiration

“You’re looking for Bill Susselman? Oh, he’s upstairs.”

OK, so a few receptionists goofed up his name. It’s an easy

mistake for anyone, especially those who bypass the name, Bill

Susselburg, on dozens of colorful watercolor paintings hanging around

the Costa Mesa Senior Center.

Susselburg, 80, has trouble hearing in both ears, but the handicap

doesn’t affect his crass, albeit entertaining, humor. His wife passed

away more than two years ago, and he’s found joy in making “slosh”

paintings, as he calls them, in the center’s art classes and in

making others laugh.

“I’ve got three holes in each ear and can’t hear out of any of

them,” he said. “You don’t need to speak louder, you just need to

speak up.”

His playful antics continued during a photo shoot, when he glanced

once at his paintings and held his nose.

“You using a wide angle?” he asked. “You going to get me distorted

as [heck]?”

If that happened, he’d somewhat resemble one of his paintings,

which fuse bright colors and lines to make his typical subjects --

flowers and people -- look obscure and interesting.

Anyway, for some reason Susselburg clearly understands the voice

of relatively soft-spoken Senior Center director Aviva Goelman, who

shed even more light on the name game.

“Susselburg’s not his real name, either,” Goelman revealed.

The Daily Pilot’s Jeff Benson sat down with a hysterical

“what’s-his-name” to talk about the inspiration for his artwork.

For the record, what name do you go by?

I was born Bill Susman, but you can call me Bill Susselburg.

You’ve been holding out. So why does it say Susselburg on all of

your artwork?

I use Susselburg for all of my paintings. My daughter-in-law, the

wife of one of my boys, runs a canvas sail-making company and she

made me one that said Susselburg’s Art Studio. So I used Susselburg.

You’ve got to put something on there.

Did you paint for a living?

[Heck] no. I became an Army engineer and served three years in

France, Holland and Germany. I was recalled for the Korean thing, but

then I got my orders to be on the boat since they were having more

trouble in Europe with the Russians. In the emergency infantry

division, there were 17,000 guys and not a radio worked. So I did

some radio work for them.

I worked for North American Autonetics after that. Finding a job

after wartime was not easy, but I eventually got on their engineering

staff before they were folded into Boeing. I had hard times in the

70’s and in 1972, I left them to do real estate work.

How did you get into art?

I was exposed to it for many years. I grew up with a young man who

became a commercial photographer. He was a drinking buddy. My other

drinking partner was definitely an artist and he got me interested in

it.

I don’t want to say nobody would buy [my paintings], because

people here have bought 14 since I’ve started a few years back. I’ve

only painted since I’ve been here at the Senior Center and all the

money I made off those went to the center.

Watercolors are my favorite. My favorite colors are magenta, a

reddish-bluish and a pinkish. Everything I paint, I like super

bright. The brightness here has been especially good, but some people

don’t agree with that and say it’s too bright. Administrations at the

center change. Before, they tried to get the conservative stuff, more

neutral.

But don’t break your buns touting me. Tout the class. We need more

people to join.

Do you teach art classes here at the Senior Center?

The center is in a process of rebuilding. It’s getting into the

art system again. There was a time between administrations when there

were no art classes at all. I help others, but I don’t do much

teaching.

Right now, we just have one class. I do very little with the class

because of my hearing. But the instructor, Juanita Smith, does her

[best].

But in the classes, I like to turn on the radio with classical

music. The ladies like it and it’s pretty good for everybody. It’s

thinkable and allows the mind to generate. And for art classes, Duke

Ellington gets people inspired.

How many people are in the classes?

Not enough. A good class size is 12 to 15, but it only has six or

seven now. It’s only $3 a week and we meet Tuesdays and Fridays from

2:30 to 5 p.m.

How do you decide what you’re going to paint?

I never know. I’m really surprised with what ends up on the paper.

In the last two classes, I started with three dinky 11-by-14s. On two of them, I sploshed colors and saw what came out. But on one, I ended

up not being happy. It started out pretty, as wet paint on paper and

with a very nice face. My faces are comedic, but this one ended up

being a soldier, saluting, with crosses and a Star of David.

I’d paint on a piece of paper, assume a yoga position and try to

figure out what I have down. You can really forget everything in the

world by doing that. It’s relaxing. Not artistic, but, what’s the

word ... creative.

There’s a picture here that was done by a little lady and I think

she had Alzheimer’s. She could hardly speak and I think they always

wheeled her in. But we’d start to paint and she’d become coherent

enough to sign her own name. “Wilma.” She always changed the minute

she got the brush in her hand.

What do you think about all the work you’ve done as you see it

hanging on the Senior Center’s walls?

I get more enjoyment out of my junk than anyone else. I’ll look at

something and say, “Where did I get the idea for that?” I don’t even

know.

It’s not art. It’s mental health.