Julian Pace
Julian Pace used to walk through Central Park at around four in the morning, he’d have just gotten off a shift as a bartender at Jake’s Dilemma. The morning sun rising over rooftops, he’d light a spliff - the guiding torch through those early hours. Julian would walk to 60th and 2nd avenue where he’d climb aboard the gondola heading across the East River to Roosevelt Island, where he was living. While the rest of New York was just beginning their day - though that may be a stretch to say - Julian would be getting home. He’d walk into his tiny apartment and start painting on jackets, cardboard, or most likely in his trusted 5 inch Moleskine Notebook. When the weed would fade or the paint would dry up, he’d fall asleep and start his ritual all over again.
More From Issue Four
This was of course all before we met Julian. We first met Julian standing in the alley of an art residency he had started at Danny First’s La Brea Artists Residency Studio in 2020. Covered head to toe in paint and working on canvases bigger than Julian was tall, he ecstatically pointed at the pieces he was working on with a ruler. Julian couldn’t paint fast enough as he covered every inch of canvas, shoulder to shoulder of his now iconic larger than life charactures of historical figures, sports icons, and drama queens. Later at his own studio with higher ceilings in Downtown Los Angeles, his canvases and ideas only got bigger. Coming down in his paint splattered pants, and a loose fitting t-shirt – he began to look like Piccaso with an intentionally shaved head and better shoes. He’d welcome us up into his studio with Ethiopian Jazz wafting around tables labeled “nakashima’ presumably in lieu of the real thing, shelves of paint, and piles of his moleskines. This previously abandoned spacious industrial space was quietly becoming Julain’s new home. This was of course all before we met Julian.
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We first met Julian standing in the alley of an art residency he had started at Danny First’s La Brea Artists Residency Studio in 2020. Covered head to toe in paint and working on canvases bigger than Julian was tall, he ecstatically pointed at the pieces he was working on with a ruler. Julian couldn’t paint fast enough as he covered every inch of canvas, shoulder to shoulder of his now iconic larger than life charactures of historical figures, sports icons, and drama queens. Later at his own studio with higher ceilings in Downtown Los Angeles, his canvases and ideas only got bigger. Coming down in his paint splattered pants, and a loose fitting t-shirt – he began to look like Piccaso with an intentionally shaved head and better shoes. He’d welcome us up into his studio with Ethiopian Jazz wafting around tables labeled “nakashima’ presumably in lieu of the real thing, shelves of paint, and piles of his moleskines. This previously abandoned spacious industrial space was quietly becoming Julain’s new home.
We first met Julian standing in the alley of an art residency he had started at Danny First’s La Brea Artists Residency Studio in 2020. Covered head to toe in paint and working on canvases bigger than Julian was tall, he ecstatically pointed at the pieces he was working on with a ruler. Julian couldn’t paint fast enough as he covered every inch of canvas, shoulder to shoulder of his now iconic larger than life charactures of historical figures, sports icons, and drama queens. Later at his own studio with higher ceilings in Downtown Los Angeles, his canvases and ideas only got bigger. Coming down in his paint splattered pants, and a loose fitting t-shirt – he began to look like Piccaso with an intentionally shaved head and better shoes. He’d welcome us up into his studio with Ethiopian Jazz wafting around tables labeled “nakashima’ presumably in lieu of the real thing, shelves of paint, and piles of his moleskines. This previously abandoned spacious industrial space was quietly becoming Julain’s new home.
SEE THE WHOLE STORY IN ISSUE FOUR
8mm Promo for Issue IV
