In all likelihood, you have seen the art of John Cerney dozens of times, perhaps not realizing that it was art. And probably without not knowing that it was created by an artist who was born in Carmel and raised in Salinas.
But you don’t have to know John Cerney’s name to appreciate his art.
Case in point: Julia Schor, visiting from Palo Alto, commented on one of Cerney’s images on the Monterey Bay Coastal Recreation Trail at Cannery Row in Monterey.
“I like it! When you're walking, you actually want to look at this and it's part of history,” she says, “and it gives a unique flavor to the city.”
While her appreciation of Cerney’s work was effusive, Schor said she did not know the artist’s name.
This doesn’t seem to bother Cerney at all. In fact, he seems satisfied to live his life as an anonymous artist.
“I don't have any problem with that,” said Cerney, adding, “I prefer not going down to the post office and having people know who I am.”
Cerney says he discovered his affinity for art at an early age, during his first meaningful experience with it.
“The very first thought I had of caring at all about art was in my sixth-grade class,” he said. “Les Beeson was the teacher. There was an art day, and he pulled out a poster of a Dutch painting of a dog. It was very hyper-realistic. My first thought was that humans could actually paint something like this—could do this—reach this level of reality. And I was astounded by it.”
Comic books may have influenced Cerney’s art as well, according to a local on Cannery Row, who not only knew Cerney’s name, but grew up with him.
“I used to be Peggy Wiesner. Our parents used to visit when we were young and we traded comic books.”
After earning a degree in art from Cal State Long Beach, Cerney landed his first gig—drawing portraits of sports and entertainment celebrities—thanks to his idol and mentor, famed photo realist DJ Hall.
But while he kept busy drawing heads in Hollywood, Cerney’s heart was drawn back to Salinas, yearning to return to his hometown and his love of…barns.
“Being from Salinas, I'd see barns all the time, so I was starting to focus on things I could paint, walls I could paint,” he said “And it was this one building on Highway 68, three miles outside of Salinas, at Hitchcock Road…that was my very first public art.”
After that, Cerney’s leap to giant cut outs was a “necessity-is-the-mother-of-invention” epiphany.
While painting a mural of a leaping ballplayer on the outfield wall of the historic-but-long-gone Salinas Municipal Stadium, Cerney ran out of room.
So he placed the fielder’s hand and glove—with the ball in it—above the top of the wall.
The unseen hitter was robbed of a home run, while Cerney hit one out of the park with his oversize, cutout art.
Seth Winnick, visiting from Austin, Texas, says Cerney’s art on Cannery Row depicting a scene of workers loading crates of sardines on a steam engine-led train, caught his eye.
“I think he does just an exceptional job of capturing the history of what went on here,” Winnick said, “Really vibrant colors, and it gives you an opportunity to step into that place and time and feel like you know what was happening. Great artist!”
While the self-effacing Cerney would likely eschew such a compliment, he apparently is pleased with his place in the professional art world.
“All artists, I think, seek three things: make a living at what they do, get critical approval for what they do, and have people see their work. As long as I can do two out of those three things, I don't care about the critical approval. Because, actually, I know where I stand in that regard: I'm an entertainer more than someone who's breaking ground in the art world.”
With more than 400 of his pieces on display in 23 states, many of them giant cutouts rising from the earth, Cerney’s work seems to qualify him on both counts—it is entertaining art, and it also breaks ground, literally, and figuratively in the art world.
