TONY BERLANT (1941 - 2026)

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By Harold I Huttas | Harold’s Gallery

I was saddened to learn of the passing of Tony Berlant, one of the distinctive artists who helped shape the Los Angeles art world during a particularly exciting period in its history.

I knew Tony, although we were not especially close. He was part of that extraordinary community of artists centered around Venice and the Westside in the 1970s and 1980s. It was quite a clan, and I had the good fortune to spend a great deal of time with them.

Ron Cooper, Chuck Arnoldi, Laddie John Dill, Guy Dill, Ed Ruscha, Ed Moses, Billy Al Bengston, Elsa Rady, and so many others were part of that overlapping world of artists, friends, galleries, studios, dinners. There was always something happening, and looking back, I realize how fortunate I was to have been around so many remarkable and creative people.

Tony was a true original.

His ability to take ordinary pieces of discarded metal, printed tin, and hundreds of tiny brads and transform them into wonderfully colorful works of art was unlike anything else. His work had a playful quality, but behind that playfulness was a remarkable sense of composition, color, and craftsmanship.

I have four of Tony's works in my collection, and each brings back memories.

The earliest is a small piece from 1979 called Diamonds and Rust, which I purchased in 1983. There is a wonderful story connected with this work. As I remember it, Tony had purchased a studio and was renovating it when diamonds were discovered hidden inside one of the walls. That unexpected discovery became the inspiration for Diamonds and Rust. It is exactly the sort of story that made the art world in those days so interesting.

In 1988, I purchased a wonderful little house-shaped sculpture titled Bunny #24 from L.A. Louver. I've always called it my "bunny house." It is covered with Tony's marvelous cut-metal images, meticulously attached with tiny brads. It is colorful, imaginative, and full of personality, a small sculpture that captures so much of what made his work special.

Then in 1993, I purchased two additional pieces, Monarch and Nawab, both small mixed-media works mounted on sterling silver, again from L.A. Louver.

What I find myself thinking about today, however, is not just Tony's art, but that entire period of life in Los Angeles.

It was a time when artists were creating their own world, when friendships and conversations were as much a part of the experience as exhibitions and galleries. Venice was a particularly wonderful place to be, and Tony was one of the artists who made it so.

As the years go by, we lose more and more of the people who made those days special. Each passing brings back memories of a remarkable time, and reminds me how lucky I was to have been part of it.

Tony leaves behind an extraordinary body of work and a lasting place in the history of Los Angeles art.

My condolences to his family, his friends, and everyone who admired him.

He will be missed, but his art—and the memories of those wonderful Venice years—will remain.

Harold I Huttas
Harold's Gallery, Los Angeles