“I’m scared to death” – curious words coming from an artist who has been a mainstay on the Monterey Peninsula art scene for decades, but Johnny Apodaca is a man in transition. He’s cutting back his hours at his “day job” so he can paint more (within three years he’ll be painting full time). He is looking at buying a home in Italy, and his art is changing rather dramatically. It’s an exciting time, but it comes with big risks. Painting is one thing, depending on it to pay the bills is something else entirely. Living in Italy, even part-time, is very different than visiting once a year, and changing your artistic style is the scariest part of all. What if people don’t like it? What if collectors reject the new direction? Apodaca says he has no choice. “This is the next step for me. It’s going from point A to point B, but if I never take that step, I’ll never get to D. A lot of people don’t take the step because they’re scared. I have to get beyond that.”

Apodaca arrived on the Central Coast almost three decades ago. As a military brat he moved all over with his parents, who finally settled in San Antonio when Johnny was in high school. Johnny never felt at home there and, in fact, was on the first bus out of Texas the day after graduation. He headed to Los Angeles where he enrolled in the Pasadena City College. He really wanted to go to the prestigious Otis College of Art and Design, but he knew he needed more art training. So he studied at the community college and hung out at Venice Beach, soaking in the art. A serendipitous visit to Pacific Grove changed his life. He came to the Peninsula to visit relatives, and he was blown away. He decided to stay, “This is one of the most beautiful places in the world, so I thought, ‘Why don’t I just paint this? What else does an artist need?’ So for the next 20 years, that’s what I did.”

His art school would now be the rugged coastline and spectacular scenery that make up the Central Coast. Most days, Johnny would venture out with his paint and trademark hat, setting up in front of one beautiful view after another. He painted and paid attention to the light, shadows and especially color. He got better, slowly developing a style in step with the great California impressionists like Guy Rose, Armin Hansen and William Ritschel, but he wasn’t afraid to put his own spin on things either. Purple trees and broad brushed yellow hillsides were okay in Apodaca’s world, and somehow he made it work, creating a look that was distinctly his.

On the personal side, Johnny was building a life. He ran with an artistic crowd that routinely hung out at Portofino’s in Pacific Grove. It was there that he first met Janelle. She was one of the few female conga drum players in the area and was actually a friend of a woman Johnny was dating. The friend thought he was “too sweet.” Janelle didn’t have the same complaint. They’ve been together ever since. “We balance each other pretty well,” says Johnny. The art career was going well, Johnny was selling paintings, but not enough to pay the bills – he needed a “day job.’

Apodaca got work as an orderly at the Community Hospital of the Monterey Peninsula. It wasn’t glamorous, but it fit Apodaca’s kind and gentle personality. “I am proud and happy to help the nurses who are the real stars. I’m part of the supporting cast, and for my personality, taking care of people is perfect. Its my way of giving back to the community.” It fit the plan – a long-term stable job with benefits that allowed him to paint. “I have no complaints going to work, but it is my goal to paint full-time. Now, twenty-five years later, I’m looking at retiring in three years, and that means painting full-time. There is light at the end of the tunnel.” Of course that means selling enough paintings to pay the bills. If he played it safe and painted the landscapes so many of his fans have come to expect, making enough money to live probably wouldn’t be a problem. That’s why his change in artistic direction takes so much courage. “Kind of like standing on the edge of a cliff,” he laughs.

He may be ready to jump, artistically speaking, but he didn’t get to this point overnight. Just like his 25-year financial plan, Apodaca has had a long-term painting plan. “I just didn’t know it until recently, but the abstract is a natural transition for me, a natural progression. Things are coming full circle. I remember my teachers trying to teach me about abstract painting, but I needed life to teach me. Finally, after twenty-five years, I understand what my teachers were trying to tell me.”

Apodaca works out of his studio in Sand City. He has been a staunch supporter of Sand City’s efforts to become an arts center. From promotion to running the annual art show to renting studio space, Apodaca is committed to the place. But even there he is taking a step back these days. “I need to focus on my painting,” he says. “I really feel I’ve done my part for the community. I’ll continue being a cheerleader, but now is the time for me to get really serious about my art.” He has just recently doubled his square footage – taking over the bottom half of a two-story space. Upstairs, a comfortable chair sits in the corner and dozens of paintings line the walls, colorful testaments to an artistic career. The paintings change as one is sold and another is brought in to replace it, but the room is dominated, for the moment, by one very provocative lady. An almost life-sized abstract nude, painted on paper, leans up against an easel in one corner. Picasso-esque, it is painted in bright colors with bold brush strokes. “I was never interested in nudes before. That’s something new, too,” says Johnny. Although the subject matter is different, the Apodaca touch, especially with color, is still there. You see the same thing downstairs where Apodaca does most of his “heavy lifting.’

A large canvas hangs on the far wall – clearly a work in progress. It’s one of Apodaca’s new abstracts, and he’s not sure where he’ll go with it, but the layers of thick, bold paint come with the promise of something special.

Having put down deep roots on Monterey Peninsula, Apodaca is ready to expand his horizons. He and his wife caught the travel bug about four years ago, and since then have been to Paris and Italy twice. “When I go to Paris or Italy, I get the same feeling I had when I came to Pacific Grove for the first time. I just feel connected.” Johnny and Janelle are in the first stages of trying to buy a home in Italy – an old stone house near Tuscany.” It’s in a place where the tourists don’t go. Only about 500 people in the village – everyone knows everyone. All the houses are stone because they are so old. It’s really medieval countryside, and there is beautiful light in Italy.” The Apodacas would like to someday split their time between Italy and the Central Coast. The long-term goals are finally coming into focus – painting full time, living as an expatriate, and stretching the limits of where his art will take him. Scary and uncertain as it all may feel, Johnny is excited to get going. “I was taught that as an artist you supposed to add something new to the plate. That’s your job. To go where art has never been before. That’s the challenge.”

Written by: Erin Clark
ARTWORKS Magazine – Fall 2006