Terry was a resident of the South Bay area and lived in Redondo Beach for a majority of his life. He and his wife Cathy raised their two daughters with a love for art, music, surfing, and the beach.
Terry was a member of the faculty at El Camino Community College and taught there for 36 years. That is where I met him in 1986. I took his sculpture class and he opened my eyes to some great art techniques. He showed me that I had far more talent than I knew I had. I went on to take several other art classes with him and there were many days where it was just he and I in the studio, after everyone else had left. For hours we would talk art, look at art, debating artistic ideas, laugh, eat something, talk more, and then go home and do it all over again next class. He really enjoyed what he did and he shared his knowledge freely.
We were both locals near the beach and had many of the same haunts so we had lots to talk about. His bronze sculpture of surf legend George Freeth on the Redondo Beach pier is the piece he is best known for. Freeth, is the man who brought surfing to the South Bay more than 100 years ago. It seemed fitting that he was commissioned to do the piece since Terry was an avid surfer. I remember him saying he always had his surf bag ready to go so he could drop everything, grab it along with his board, and be out the door at the drop of a hat.
Terry rode the waves well into his 60s. He surfed until heart problems forced him to give it up. He was well known for telling stories of surfing all over the coast in the 1950s.
Terry as an avid soapbox racer. His nickname was "Pogo" and he was one of originators of a group called "The Illegal Soapbox Derby Association." Typical Terry. They would build the cars and sneak into parking structures in predawn hours to race.
Terry was known for his truly fun sense of humor and at times, odd perspectives. We got along really well from the beginning because we were both "slightly askew" and recognized that in one another.
One afternoon, the two of us were in the fine arts hallway at El Camino and we were setting up displays of students work. We had a few dark clay blocks of varying sizes and a dark little non-descript human figure that was sitting with its knees pulled up and the arms around them and the head bowed. We sat there trying to figure out the best way to display the pieces. We arranged it so many ways and after setting it up we'd stand back and say something like ... Desolation. That was exactly what was being portrayed. We'd move it around and then step back and say ... Precarious. Yup. That was the perfect word. Move it again and say ... Hiding. It was fascinating how we could rearrange the 4 or 5 pieces and totally change the "meaning" of the piece. It was really fun. We played with it for about 45 minutes. It was not only fun but also very interesting. We agreed that to do the piece justice, we needed several identical pieces so we could explore all the possibilities that we had just worked through, so the viewers could see the different things we just saw. It was a shame we only had one set. Every time I passed that display case, with the figure in it, I smiled because I knew what else it could be.
Terry was someone that could really examine all the facets of something and really truly see it. That was one of the really valuable things he taught me. To really take the time to see if from different views and to see what each view could offer me.
Another lesson came when we had to do a clay bust from a live model. I thought I was lame at drawing the human figure and asked if there was something else I could do. He said, "If you don't want to do it you don't have to." I said, "Great!" Then he added... "But it is one third of your grade." I was bummed. He then said, show up on time, listen to my lecture, do the work and give it your best, and you can get an A. Even if it isn't something to write home about you can still get an A. So I did just that.
What I found was that I had talent I never even knew I had. I learned that without allowing myself to really fall flat on my face and fail, that I couldn't succeed. It was a life lesson that I ran with. That bust turned out beautifully and I am so thankful for Terry inspiring me and giving me such excellent direction and insight. I will forever be thankful for Terry and I know that there is a long line of people that are standing with me in that regard.
After that sculpture class I took a 3D design class with Terry. It sounded fun. He would give only the bare minimum of project info. The actual requirements really. Everyone was asking, what do you mean by XYZ? Can you give us an example of X and Y or maybe just Z? He wouldn't. He just said, go work on it and I'll see you next week. After doing that a few times he explained his reason for not showing us things. He said that in the past he had shown students some works that were examples of what his requirements were for a project. Then he showed some of their projects to us. They were simply reinventing the original works that he had shown to them. So, he decided that he would only give the bare minimum of info. That forced everyone to come up with their own original work.
One set of requirements was 3 pieces. They must touch and the whole thing must balance. I really liked the wide openness of it all but clearly some students did NOT like it. That 3 piece balancing act was really interesting in the wide variety of pieces that came back the following week. Everyone had such different work. He then pulled out some previous students work for the project we had just completed. He showed us the work that he had shown them. Again, it was carbon copying. Ours was vastly different so he said, I hope you understand why you get next to no real examples from me. People stopped complaining after that. They got it.
Terry was a great teacher. Especially if you could wrap your head around him and his way of seeing the world.
As written by Terry:
How I Became An Artist
By Terrell P. O'Donnell
When I was four, Shredded Wheat came with a model airplane between the biscuits. One day I found a double-edged razor blade and proceeded to cut out the plane and parts of my fingers. I feel this was the nexus of my life. I was either going to be a sculptor or a surgeon. At sixteen I was seduced by abstract expressionism as filtered through the Southern California surf culture of the fifties. During the early sixties I spent two years in the Navy marauding the Pacific Rim and searching for surf. I received an early discharge to attend El Camino and Long Beach State. These august institutions with their mysterious wisdom claimed me a Master, fine artily speaking. Nancy Hanks, (a perspicacious lady) and her cohorts gave me a N.E.A. Grant when it was still cool to accept it. I've shown my work at venues both grand and scary. At this juncture in my life I've come to the conclusion that as an eclectic dyslexia perpetualist, it's not my job to explain myself, but rather to obscure the facts as much as possible.
The surfer, artist, and boxcar racer is survived by his wife, Cathy; two daughters, Timi Rider and Graham; and four grandchildren. A memorial service was held January 14, 2008, at the Fine Arts Gallery at El Camino College. A beach gathering and paddle out was held in El Porto on Saturday, January 19, 2008, at 1:00 PM, at the 40th Street Lifeguard Tower, Manhattan Beach, CA
Terry left his thumbprint on many of us. I am one that bears his imprint. Thank you Terry.
Terry was a member of the faculty at El Camino Community College and taught there for 36 years. That is where I met him in 1986. I took his sculpture class and he opened my eyes to some great art techniques. He showed me that I had far more talent than I knew I had. I went on to take several other art classes with him and there were many days where it was just he and I in the studio, after everyone else had left. For hours we would talk art, look at art, debating artistic ideas, laugh, eat something, talk more, and then go home and do it all over again next class. He really enjoyed what he did and he shared his knowledge freely.
We were both locals near the beach and had many of the same haunts so we had lots to talk about. His bronze sculpture of surf legend George Freeth on the Redondo Beach pier is the piece he is best known for. Freeth, is the man who brought surfing to the South Bay more than 100 years ago. It seemed fitting that he was commissioned to do the piece since Terry was an avid surfer. I remember him saying he always had his surf bag ready to go so he could drop everything, grab it along with his board, and be out the door at the drop of a hat.
Terry rode the waves well into his 60s. He surfed until heart problems forced him to give it up. He was well known for telling stories of surfing all over the coast in the 1950s.
Terry as an avid soapbox racer. His nickname was "Pogo" and he was one of originators of a group called "The Illegal Soapbox Derby Association." Typical Terry. They would build the cars and sneak into parking structures in predawn hours to race.
Terry was known for his truly fun sense of humor and at times, odd perspectives. We got along really well from the beginning because we were both "slightly askew" and recognized that in one another.
One afternoon, the two of us were in the fine arts hallway at El Camino and we were setting up displays of students work. We had a few dark clay blocks of varying sizes and a dark little non-descript human figure that was sitting with its knees pulled up and the arms around them and the head bowed. We sat there trying to figure out the best way to display the pieces. We arranged it so many ways and after setting it up we'd stand back and say something like ... Desolation. That was exactly what was being portrayed. We'd move it around and then step back and say ... Precarious. Yup. That was the perfect word. Move it again and say ... Hiding. It was fascinating how we could rearrange the 4 or 5 pieces and totally change the "meaning" of the piece. It was really fun. We played with it for about 45 minutes. It was not only fun but also very interesting. We agreed that to do the piece justice, we needed several identical pieces so we could explore all the possibilities that we had just worked through, so the viewers could see the different things we just saw. It was a shame we only had one set. Every time I passed that display case, with the figure in it, I smiled because I knew what else it could be.
Terry was someone that could really examine all the facets of something and really truly see it. That was one of the really valuable things he taught me. To really take the time to see if from different views and to see what each view could offer me.
Another lesson came when we had to do a clay bust from a live model. I thought I was lame at drawing the human figure and asked if there was something else I could do. He said, "If you don't want to do it you don't have to." I said, "Great!" Then he added... "But it is one third of your grade." I was bummed. He then said, show up on time, listen to my lecture, do the work and give it your best, and you can get an A. Even if it isn't something to write home about you can still get an A. So I did just that.
What I found was that I had talent I never even knew I had. I learned that without allowing myself to really fall flat on my face and fail, that I couldn't succeed. It was a life lesson that I ran with. That bust turned out beautifully and I am so thankful for Terry inspiring me and giving me such excellent direction and insight. I will forever be thankful for Terry and I know that there is a long line of people that are standing with me in that regard.
After that sculpture class I took a 3D design class with Terry. It sounded fun. He would give only the bare minimum of project info. The actual requirements really. Everyone was asking, what do you mean by XYZ? Can you give us an example of X and Y or maybe just Z? He wouldn't. He just said, go work on it and I'll see you next week. After doing that a few times he explained his reason for not showing us things. He said that in the past he had shown students some works that were examples of what his requirements were for a project. Then he showed some of their projects to us. They were simply reinventing the original works that he had shown to them. So, he decided that he would only give the bare minimum of info. That forced everyone to come up with their own original work.
One set of requirements was 3 pieces. They must touch and the whole thing must balance. I really liked the wide openness of it all but clearly some students did NOT like it. That 3 piece balancing act was really interesting in the wide variety of pieces that came back the following week. Everyone had such different work. He then pulled out some previous students work for the project we had just completed. He showed us the work that he had shown them. Again, it was carbon copying. Ours was vastly different so he said, I hope you understand why you get next to no real examples from me. People stopped complaining after that. They got it.
Terry was a great teacher. Especially if you could wrap your head around him and his way of seeing the world.
As written by Terry:
How I Became An Artist
By Terrell P. O'Donnell
When I was four, Shredded Wheat came with a model airplane between the biscuits. One day I found a double-edged razor blade and proceeded to cut out the plane and parts of my fingers. I feel this was the nexus of my life. I was either going to be a sculptor or a surgeon. At sixteen I was seduced by abstract expressionism as filtered through the Southern California surf culture of the fifties. During the early sixties I spent two years in the Navy marauding the Pacific Rim and searching for surf. I received an early discharge to attend El Camino and Long Beach State. These august institutions with their mysterious wisdom claimed me a Master, fine artily speaking. Nancy Hanks, (a perspicacious lady) and her cohorts gave me a N.E.A. Grant when it was still cool to accept it. I've shown my work at venues both grand and scary. At this juncture in my life I've come to the conclusion that as an eclectic dyslexia perpetualist, it's not my job to explain myself, but rather to obscure the facts as much as possible.
The surfer, artist, and boxcar racer is survived by his wife, Cathy; two daughters, Timi Rider and Graham; and four grandchildren. A memorial service was held January 14, 2008, at the Fine Arts Gallery at El Camino College. A beach gathering and paddle out was held in El Porto on Saturday, January 19, 2008, at 1:00 PM, at the 40th Street Lifeguard Tower, Manhattan Beach, CA
Terry left his thumbprint on many of us. I am one that bears his imprint. Thank you Terry.
Terry was a resident of the South Bay area and lived in Redondo Beach for a majority of his life. He and his wife Cathy raised their two daughters with a love for art, music, surfing, and the beach.
Terry was a member of the faculty at El Camino Community College and taught there for 36 years. That is where I met him in 1986. I took his sculpture class and he opened my eyes to some great art techniques. He showed me that I had far more talent than I knew I had. I went on to take several other art classes with him and there were many days where it was just he and I in the studio, after everyone else had left. For hours we would talk art, look at art, debating artistic ideas, laugh, eat something, talk more, and then go home and do it all over again next class. He really enjoyed what he did and he shared his knowledge freely.
We were both locals near the beach and had many of the same haunts so we had lots to talk about. His bronze sculpture of surf legend George Freeth on the Redondo Beach pier is the piece he is best known for. Freeth, is the man who brought surfing to the South Bay more than 100 years ago. It seemed fitting that he was commissioned to do the piece since Terry was an avid surfer. I remember him saying he always had his surf bag ready to go so he could drop everything, grab it along with his board, and be out the door at the drop of a hat.
Terry rode the waves well into his 60s. He surfed until heart problems forced him to give it up. He was well known for telling stories of surfing all over the coast in the 1950s.
Terry as an avid soapbox racer. His nickname was "Pogo" and he was one of originators of a group called "The Illegal Soapbox Derby Association." Typical Terry. They would build the cars and sneak into parking structures in predawn hours to race.
Terry was known for his truly fun sense of humor and at times, odd perspectives. We got along really well from the beginning because we were both "slightly askew" and recognized that in one another.
One afternoon, the two of us were in the fine arts hallway at El Camino and we were setting up displays of students work. We had a few dark clay blocks of varying sizes and a dark little non-descript human figure that was sitting with its knees pulled up and the arms around them and the head bowed. We sat there trying to figure out the best way to display the pieces. We arranged it so many ways and after setting it up we'd stand back and say something like ... Desolation. That was exactly what was being portrayed. We'd move it around and then step back and say ... Precarious. Yup. That was the perfect word. Move it again and say ... Hiding. It was fascinating how we could rearrange the 4 or 5 pieces and totally change the "meaning" of the piece. It was really fun. We played with it for about 45 minutes. It was not only fun but also very interesting. We agreed that to do the piece justice, we needed several identical pieces so we could explore all the possibilities that we had just worked through, so the viewers could see the different things we just saw. It was a shame we only had one set. Every time I passed that display case, with the figure in it, I smiled because I knew what else it could be.
Terry was someone that could really examine all the facets of something and really truly see it. That was one of the really valuable things he taught me. To really take the time to see if from different views and to see what each view could offer me.
Another lesson came when we had to do a clay bust from a live model. I thought I was lame at drawing the human figure and asked if there was something else I could do. He said, "If you don't want to do it you don't have to." I said, "Great!" Then he added... "But it is one third of your grade." I was bummed. He then said, show up on time, listen to my lecture, do the work and give it your best, and you can get an A. Even if it isn't something to write home about you can still get an A. So I did just that.
What I found was that I had talent I never even knew I had. I learned that without allowing myself to really fall flat on my face and fail, that I couldn't succeed. It was a life lesson that I ran with. That bust turned out beautifully and I am so thankful for Terry inspiring me and giving me such excellent direction and insight. I will forever be thankful for Terry and I know that there is a long line of people that are standing with me in that regard.
After that sculpture class I took a 3D design class with Terry. It sounded fun. He would give only the bare minimum of project info. The actual requirements really. Everyone was asking, what do you mean by XYZ? Can you give us an example of X and Y or maybe just Z? He wouldn't. He just said, go work on it and I'll see you next week. After doing that a few times he explained his reason for not showing us things. He said that in the past he had shown students some works that were examples of what his requirements were for a project. Then he showed some of their projects to us. They were simply reinventing the original works that he had shown to them. So, he decided that he would only give the bare minimum of info. That forced everyone to come up with their own original work.
One set of requirements was 3 pieces. They must touch and the whole thing must balance. I really liked the wide openness of it all but clearly some students did NOT like it. That 3 piece balancing act was really interesting in the wide variety of pieces that came back the following week. Everyone had such different work. He then pulled out some previous students work for the project we had just completed. He showed us the work that he had shown them. Again, it was carbon copying. Ours was vastly different so he said, I hope you understand why you get next to no real examples from me. People stopped complaining after that. They got it.
Terry was a great teacher. Especially if you could wrap your head around him and his way of seeing the world.
As written by Terry:
How I Became An Artist
By Terrell P. O'Donnell
When I was four, Shredded Wheat came with a model airplane between the biscuits. One day I found a double-edged razor blade and proceeded to cut out the plane and parts of my fingers. I feel this was the nexus of my life. I was either going to be a sculptor or a surgeon. At sixteen I was seduced by abstract expressionism as filtered through the Southern California surf culture of the fifties. During the early sixties I spent two years in the Navy marauding the Pacific Rim and searching for surf. I received an early discharge to attend El Camino and Long Beach State. These august institutions with their mysterious wisdom claimed me a Master, fine artily speaking. Nancy Hanks, (a perspicacious lady) and her cohorts gave me a N.E.A. Grant when it was still cool to accept it. I've shown my work at venues both grand and scary. At this juncture in my life I've come to the conclusion that as an eclectic dyslexia perpetualist, it's not my job to explain myself, but rather to obscure the facts as much as possible.
The surfer, artist, and boxcar racer is survived by his wife, Cathy; two daughters, Timi Rider and Graham; and four grandchildren. A memorial service was held January 14, 2008, at the Fine Arts Gallery at El Camino College. A beach gathering and paddle out was held in El Porto on Saturday, January 19, 2008, at 1:00 PM, at the 40th Street Lifeguard Tower, Manhattan Beach, CA
Terry left his thumbprint on many of us. I am one that bears his imprint. Thank you Terry.
Terry was a member of the faculty at El Camino Community College and taught there for 36 years. That is where I met him in 1986. I took his sculpture class and he opened my eyes to some great art techniques. He showed me that I had far more talent than I knew I had. I went on to take several other art classes with him and there were many days where it was just he and I in the studio, after everyone else had left. For hours we would talk art, look at art, debating artistic ideas, laugh, eat something, talk more, and then go home and do it all over again next class. He really enjoyed what he did and he shared his knowledge freely.
We were both locals near the beach and had many of the same haunts so we had lots to talk about. His bronze sculpture of surf legend George Freeth on the Redondo Beach pier is the piece he is best known for. Freeth, is the man who brought surfing to the South Bay more than 100 years ago. It seemed fitting that he was commissioned to do the piece since Terry was an avid surfer. I remember him saying he always had his surf bag ready to go so he could drop everything, grab it along with his board, and be out the door at the drop of a hat.
Terry rode the waves well into his 60s. He surfed until heart problems forced him to give it up. He was well known for telling stories of surfing all over the coast in the 1950s.
Terry as an avid soapbox racer. His nickname was "Pogo" and he was one of originators of a group called "The Illegal Soapbox Derby Association." Typical Terry. They would build the cars and sneak into parking structures in predawn hours to race.
Terry was known for his truly fun sense of humor and at times, odd perspectives. We got along really well from the beginning because we were both "slightly askew" and recognized that in one another.
One afternoon, the two of us were in the fine arts hallway at El Camino and we were setting up displays of students work. We had a few dark clay blocks of varying sizes and a dark little non-descript human figure that was sitting with its knees pulled up and the arms around them and the head bowed. We sat there trying to figure out the best way to display the pieces. We arranged it so many ways and after setting it up we'd stand back and say something like ... Desolation. That was exactly what was being portrayed. We'd move it around and then step back and say ... Precarious. Yup. That was the perfect word. Move it again and say ... Hiding. It was fascinating how we could rearrange the 4 or 5 pieces and totally change the "meaning" of the piece. It was really fun. We played with it for about 45 minutes. It was not only fun but also very interesting. We agreed that to do the piece justice, we needed several identical pieces so we could explore all the possibilities that we had just worked through, so the viewers could see the different things we just saw. It was a shame we only had one set. Every time I passed that display case, with the figure in it, I smiled because I knew what else it could be.
Terry was someone that could really examine all the facets of something and really truly see it. That was one of the really valuable things he taught me. To really take the time to see if from different views and to see what each view could offer me.
Another lesson came when we had to do a clay bust from a live model. I thought I was lame at drawing the human figure and asked if there was something else I could do. He said, "If you don't want to do it you don't have to." I said, "Great!" Then he added... "But it is one third of your grade." I was bummed. He then said, show up on time, listen to my lecture, do the work and give it your best, and you can get an A. Even if it isn't something to write home about you can still get an A. So I did just that.
What I found was that I had talent I never even knew I had. I learned that without allowing myself to really fall flat on my face and fail, that I couldn't succeed. It was a life lesson that I ran with. That bust turned out beautifully and I am so thankful for Terry inspiring me and giving me such excellent direction and insight. I will forever be thankful for Terry and I know that there is a long line of people that are standing with me in that regard.
After that sculpture class I took a 3D design class with Terry. It sounded fun. He would give only the bare minimum of project info. The actual requirements really. Everyone was asking, what do you mean by XYZ? Can you give us an example of X and Y or maybe just Z? He wouldn't. He just said, go work on it and I'll see you next week. After doing that a few times he explained his reason for not showing us things. He said that in the past he had shown students some works that were examples of what his requirements were for a project. Then he showed some of their projects to us. They were simply reinventing the original works that he had shown to them. So, he decided that he would only give the bare minimum of info. That forced everyone to come up with their own original work.
One set of requirements was 3 pieces. They must touch and the whole thing must balance. I really liked the wide openness of it all but clearly some students did NOT like it. That 3 piece balancing act was really interesting in the wide variety of pieces that came back the following week. Everyone had such different work. He then pulled out some previous students work for the project we had just completed. He showed us the work that he had shown them. Again, it was carbon copying. Ours was vastly different so he said, I hope you understand why you get next to no real examples from me. People stopped complaining after that. They got it.
Terry was a great teacher. Especially if you could wrap your head around him and his way of seeing the world.
As written by Terry:
How I Became An Artist
By Terrell P. O'Donnell
When I was four, Shredded Wheat came with a model airplane between the biscuits. One day I found a double-edged razor blade and proceeded to cut out the plane and parts of my fingers. I feel this was the nexus of my life. I was either going to be a sculptor or a surgeon. At sixteen I was seduced by abstract expressionism as filtered through the Southern California surf culture of the fifties. During the early sixties I spent two years in the Navy marauding the Pacific Rim and searching for surf. I received an early discharge to attend El Camino and Long Beach State. These august institutions with their mysterious wisdom claimed me a Master, fine artily speaking. Nancy Hanks, (a perspicacious lady) and her cohorts gave me a N.E.A. Grant when it was still cool to accept it. I've shown my work at venues both grand and scary. At this juncture in my life I've come to the conclusion that as an eclectic dyslexia perpetualist, it's not my job to explain myself, but rather to obscure the facts as much as possible.
The surfer, artist, and boxcar racer is survived by his wife, Cathy; two daughters, Timi Rider and Graham; and four grandchildren. A memorial service was held January 14, 2008, at the Fine Arts Gallery at El Camino College. A beach gathering and paddle out was held in El Porto on Saturday, January 19, 2008, at 1:00 PM, at the 40th Street Lifeguard Tower, Manhattan Beach, CA
Terry left his thumbprint on many of us. I am one that bears his imprint. Thank you Terry.
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