How do you retire if you’re one of golf’s more recognizable artists and your studio overlooks the ocean where, as a form of relaxation and inspiration, you can hone your swing hitting balls from the beach into one of the world’s biggest and most beautiful water hazards?
Apparently you don’t.
Gary Patterson pursued his artistic passion because “it made people smile.” But like many artists, it didn’t make him much money, at least initially. Encouraged by his family to tap into his creative side, Patterson attended UCLA and the Art Center College of Design but ran out of money, went out on his own and learned from his mistakes.
“Murals, signs, yes, I’ve done all kinds of artwork. Painting numbers on curbs to try and make money. Yeah, that worked. I got a bad sunburn and spilled paint all down the road,” Patterson said with a whimsical smile. “It’s really rough being a freelance artist. While before I’d be jealous of those that made it, now I just admire them.”
For Patterson, 73, the pattern of converging golf and art was set at an early age.
“I learned about golf living over Knollwood Golf Club in Granada Hills,” he recalled. “I could see golfers teeing off below me, but they couldn’t see me, some throwing equipment into the water hazard, then they’d try to retrieve it. I saw it all.”
It was that type of emotion – both good and bad – that intrigued a young Patterson.
“In my youth, I’d often go down to the course in the evening and practice with my dad or buddies,” he said. “I’d leave a few divots here and there. We’d retrieve a ton of balls. I never had to buy a single golf ball in 10 years back then. As far as my own experience, I’m a hacker. I’ve experienced the many different emotions as well.”
In addition to golf, Patterson developed his artistic talents with his father’s guidance.
“My dad was a fireman and also a really good artist, so I learned from him,” he recalled. “I’d stand by the drawing board and observe him. It would be the same if someone was interested in music (where) they’d really benefit from someone who had a piano or guitar they played at home.”
Though he has enjoyed success creating art of other sports, animals, office politics and various daily life themes, the core of Patterson’s work has been golf and its comical and maddening themes that anyone who has teed it up can relate to.
One of Patterson’s secrets is that he’s detailed in his research. As part of playing golf, he’ll seek out groundskeepers, agronomists, course designers, caddies, fellow hackers and club pros to get perspectives.
“The Internet sure helps out, but it’s really about getting out on the golf course and seeing nuances,” Patterson said. “When I work, I’m trying to laugh with golf, not at golf. It’s a tough sport. But it’s also one of my passions and I get letters all the time from club pros to weekend hackers, so I owe a lot to people all over who have provided input to my work.”
Patterson’s exaggerated art style is also a nice fit for golf and the experiences he and other players discover and the fairways and in the rough.
“One of the universal components of the sport is frustration,” he said. “When I was going through a divorce, rather than party around and make a fool of myself I decided I was going to do artwork; I just didn’t know exactly what. I’ve done animals, which I love, and a lot of different sports but decided on golf.”
Though his father is his biggest artistic influence, Patterson also credits several others for their creative impact.
“My dad is first, but the Old Masters are great, and I do like Rockwell,” he said. “Charles Schulz, the Peanuts creator, and I have exchanged original artwork.”
These days, between smacking balls from his Malibu beachfront studio and watching golf on television, Patterson remains active with his two passions.
“I have about five projects going at the moment,” he said. “Golf is still important to me, and my specialty being humor continues to draw me in to the sport all these years later. The game is so challenging that you have to have a sense of humor.”
One of the keys to his success is the overall golf experience, and Patterson is clear about what he hopes people get from his artwork.
“Identification. If I draw something and they go, ‘I get that.’ Maybe they experienced personally or know someone that did so they associate with the art,” he said. “It may have happened to them but they may never admit to it and have a quiet chuckle and say, ‘Yes, that was me.’ And one of his golf buddies may buy it and give it to him because he knows. And they share a laugh because of it.”
In such a humbling sport, that’s important.
“I’ve found that humor is one of the most challenging of the arts,” Patterson said, “but certainly among the most rewarding.”
