a lack of influence is of
course its own kind of influence. To Jackson, his father was more vivid as an absence
than as a presence, leaving him with a fierce need to find someone or something he
could believe in completely. Afew months after Jackson dropped out of school, his family would make its last move—to
Los Angeles—and Jackson would soon declare his ambition to become “an Artist of some
kind.” The unassuming phrase perfectly captures the dual aspects of the young man’s
personality: his need for a capital belief and at the same time a subversive unwillingness
to commit himself to any one belief in particular.
2
Manual Arts High School
1928–30
In September 1928 Pollock joined the sophomore class of Manual Arts High School in
Los Angeles, a public school specializing in the industrial arts. The school, a ten-minute
walk from the Pollock home at 1196 Thirty-ninth Avenue, near Exposition Park, was
a large, impersonal institution, with more than four thousand students and a standardized
curriculum that took little account of individual needs. Although Manual Arts was
a “boresome” place of “rules and ringing bells,” as Pollock described it, it was in
this unlikely setting that he recognized his ambition to become an artist. One class
made school worthwhile for him. He studied art under Frederick John de St. Vrain Schwankovsky,
or Schwanny to his students, a man who provided Pollock with the guidance and inspiration
so sorely lacking in the rest of his school day, if not in his life.
Schwankovsky, a tall, bespectacled painter with a cropped mustache, a goatee, and
long black hair, was a highly unorthodox teacher, known in Los Angeles for his espousal
of occult mysticismand his equally heretical advocacy of modern art. His customary outfit included a
burgundy velvet jacket and sandals, and his appearance, at once refined and bohemian,
confirmed his students’ quaint notions of how an artist should look. “I’m going to
make serious painters of you,” Schwankovsky used to say, although he was much less
interested in molding his students than simply joining them in the practice of art.
Soon after Pollock started school Schwankovsky stirred up a citywide controversy by
bringing models into the classroom and having his students draw from life rather than
follow the traditional method of copying antique casts. “We are very fortunate in
that this is the only school in the city [to] have models,” Pollock wrote appreciatively
to his brothers Charles and Frank, who had since moved to New York City. Charles was
studying at the Art Students League, and Frank, who had followed him east, was studying
part time at Columbia. “Altho it is difficult to have a nude and get by the board,”
Pollock continued, “Schwankavsky [sic] is brave enough to have them.”
Under Schwankovsky’s influence Pollock quickly fashioned an artistic identity for
himself. Like his teacher, he grew his hair to his shoulders—“a style associated with
European artists and poets like Oscar Wilde,” according to a classmate. He subscribed
to
Creative Arts
magazine, read modern poetry in the
Dial
, and in letters to his brothers abandoned capital letters (“my letters are undoubtedly
egotistical but it is myself i am interested in now”). And in a notable display of
bravado, he changed his first name to Hugo, after Victor Hugo, in the hope of impressing
his English teacher, a lady he admired from afar. To his classmates, who continued
to call him Jackson rather than Hugo, Pollock radiated an image of artistic vanity
in spite of his shyness. To Harold Lehman, a classmate, he was “an immature person
with fancy ideas but no discipline.” Manuel Tolegian, another classmate, observed,
“That fellow thought he was someone important, but to me he always seemed like an
orphan.” The sculptor Reuben Kadish, referring in particular to Pollock’s