Friends Gather in Pomona to Celebrate Chicano Artist Gilbert "Magu" Lujan

[Click here to see more photos of Magu at 462 Dave's Blog. Click image to enlarge.]

David Allen, Inland Valley Daily Bulletin

Gilbert Lujan was his name, but he went by his nickname, Magu, acquired in childhood because he always squinted to look at anything, just like the nearsighted cartoon character Mr. Magoo.

Magu was a pioneering Chicano muralist, sculptor and painter who spent a decade in the Pomona Arts Colony. He died of cancer July 24 at age 70.

If he'd been in downtown Pomona on Saturday, he wouldn't have had to peer too intently to see how many people cared about him.

A retrospective show at the dA Center for the Arts had a steady stream of visitors from its mid-afternoon opening into the evening.

Parked outside the 252 S. Main St. storefront was a 1950 Chevy customized by Magu that drew admirers. Inside were dozens of paintings, prints and sculptures, not to mention an art-covered refrigerator.

Friends greeted each other. People lined up for watermelon, chips, salsa and pan dulce prepared by Magu's ex-wife, Mardi. Some sat for video interviews to share memories of Magu.

"It's a big reunion. Family and friends," said Oto o Lujan, one of Magu's sons, who took me out to the sidewalk to talk to escape the heat of the crowded gallery.

He called the gathering "a huge extended family" of people his father had known.

In that extended family, I might have qualified as a third cousin twice-removed. Naiche Lujan, another son, remembered me, and vice versa.

In 2004, I had visited Magu and Naiche in the loft they shared in downtown Pomona.

The space, on West Second Street at Parcels Street, was a former machine shop with a rollup door. Not exactly deluxe accommodations, but well-suited for an artist.

It was crowded with beatup furniture and an upright piano. A 1954 Chevy pickup was parked inside too. Finished and in-process paintings were everywhere.

Magu had moved east circa 1999, lured by Pomona art collector Frank Garcia, who touted the nascent community of artists (and no doubt the cheap rent).

"People ask why I live in Pomona. I say: `Parking,"' Magu told me jokingly that day.

Magu was not an artist of means, despite his reputation. He had co-founded the art collective Los Four, which had curated a groundbreaking exhibit of Chicano art at the starchy L.A. County Museum of Art in 1974.

In 1990, Magu was chosen to design the Hollywood and Vine subway station.

"The moment he was asked to do it, because Hollywood and Vine is such a crossroads, he knew he had to do something special," Naiche told me Saturday.

Magu worked with the architect to incorporate such touches as movie reels in the ceiling, support pillars styled as palm trees, a theater-style marquee on the exterior and hand-painted wall tiles.

Benches resemble lowrider cars, a Magu passion, and the floor sports a path of yellow tiles to street level. "The Wizard of Oz" was one of Magu's favorite movies.

The exhibit at the dA includes photos of the subway station under construction and some of Magu's designs for it.

"It was the biggest project he ever did," Naiche said.

Despite all that, by 2004, when I met him, Magu had given up half of his 3,000-square-foot space to economize.

Still, his arrival, and presence, helped the Arts Colony gain traction.

"He was the first big-name artist who lived down here, someone who was known nationally," said George Cuttress, who had an influential gallery next to the dA and hosted weekly potlucks for artists.

Magu liked a free flow of conversation with fellow artists on art and politics, calling the sessions "Mental Menudo."

He had a master's in fine arts degree and was a real intellectual, Cuttress said. But his art wasn't highbrow.

He employed cartoons, TV icons, altars, cars, cacti, burritos, peppers, Aztecs, feathered headdresses, pyramids and coyotes as motifs in a folk-art style with bright colors.

He called the world of his imagination "Magulandia," its landscapes, towns and characters representing his take on the mythical Mexican homeland of Aztlan.

"It was a place he could express all his art ideas," Naiche said.

In our interview, Magu said humor was his secret ingredient.

"I think humor softens people's view of my culture," Magu said.

In our conversation he frequently joked and smiled. In my piece about him, though, I felt compelled to mention in passing that he complained a lot - a polite way of saying that for perhaps a quarter of our time together, he was griping about his rent, the lack of appreciation for artists and other matters.

Next time I saw him, he said he had liked my piece except for that one phrase, complaining that he didn't complain a lot.

The next and final time I ran into him, in a Thai restaurant in Pomona around 2008, he said he had further reflected and had changed his mind.

He had been griping too much, probably out of frustration, he admitted. Saying he had adjusted his attitude, he thanked me.

(Memo to the world: It might take years, but you'll eventually conclude I was right about everything. I promise not to gloat.)

By then Magu had relocated to Ontario. He wasn't there long, soon moving back to La Puente, not far from where he'd grown up, and where he died.

"It was like coming home and being in familiar surroundings again," Naiche said.

The show at the dA was arranged in late spring as a way to sell some of Magu's art and raise money for his medical bills, according to Chris Toovey, the arts center's president.

"Sadly, it's become more of a memorial exhibit and retrospective," Toovey told me.

No art could be sold that weekend because of legal issues involving the estate, Toovey said. Potential buyers' names were placed on an interest list.

The show, titled "Cruisin' Magulandia," continues through Aug. 27. That day will be a bookend of sorts for the show, with live music by Oto o's band, Conjunto Los Pochos, and by Eloy Torrez, a musician and painter who is known for the Anthony Quinn mural in downtown L.A.

Saturday, though, was the opening reception. Renewing acquaintances and admiring Magu's art - while avoiding jostling fellow art lovers - were the order of the day.

"My father had such a wide reach - across social, financial and cultural strata," Naiche said as people milled around us. "This is almost his final piece of art, this vortex of people."

David Allen Email david.allen@inlandnewspapers.com, call 909-483-9339.

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