ABOUT A. JOHNS’ POOKAHS

I fell in love when Albert Dekker, as Willy Loman, walked onto Mielziner’s set for the road company of DEATH OF A SALESMAN. I was fourteen or fifteen. Fifty odd years later, I still feel that way. I’ve had a minor career as an actor, a better one as a playwright, and spent too much time doing other things while waiting. Somewhere along the way, I began making small sculptures, using found and household objects. A piece of newel post turned into the chest of a Napoleonic officer or the bustworks of a Victorian dowager. When I sold the first one for a couple hundred dollars, it occurred to me that this might be a good thing to do in the betweentimes. I’ve given some as opening night gifts and sold many others. They’ve been in shops and galleries in San Francisco, Milwaukee, Connecticut, Michigan and New York City. To date I’ve made around 1,500. Early this year, I began working with polymer clay. Most of the work I am showing today is that. Everything is handmade and one of a kind.

By mixed media I mean using any material at hand, be it a nicely shaped piece of wood, metal, what have you--which I use to construct the basic form of the character. Serendipity.

Someone suggested I call them something catchy for when I get a website. So, though I think that someone is nuts but I don’t understand such things, I said, “I’ll call them pookahs,” because, like Harvey, they make nice imaginary friends, even though you can see them. I’m sure Mary Chase would concur. The majority have some theatrical connection. Some are characters from plays (Bottom, Duke Mantee, the Brewster sisters, Cyrano), others are archetypal caricatures.

I also paint with oil on canvas. Many of the paintings are also theatrically oriented.
A final word about the pookahs. Should one be damaged, by falling from a high shelf onto a concrete floor as a for instance, I will restore it at no further charge. This warranty shall become void when I do.