artwork

Some SoCal residents spent their summer at the beach, or at their local rooftop pool; others spent it indoors, hiding from ICE agents.

It’s why Riverside artist Perry Picasshoe spent his summer documenting the melting of 36 ice blocks on sidewalks across the Inland Empire.

He traveled to nine locations, a mix of parks, storefronts and gas stations, where immigration enforcement raids have taken place in the past few weeks. In each spot, he placed four 25-pound ice blocks on the ground and took photos of them as they melted. He would periodically check on the progress, he explained, and found that some were smashed into pieces or completely disappeared.

“I took it as a metaphor of what’s happening,” Picasshoe said, referencing the recent ICE raids taking place across Southern California. “I was also thinking a lot about having these blocks of ice as almost a stand-in for people.”

This latest art piece is just one of the many other Chicano-focused projects that Picasshoe has created in his hometown in the past three years. His goal, among all of the artworks, is to push its residents to reflect on the complexity of the Inland Empire’s Latino identity.

Perry Picasshoe and his father place an ice block near the epicenter of the city’s monthly arts walk in downtown Riverside on July 3, 2025.

(Daniel Hernandez)

Juan Carlos Hernandez Marquez is an emerging Mexican American multidisciplinary artist from Riverside who goes by the stage name Perry Picasshoe. The moniker, which he created as a teenager, is a play on Pablo Picasso’s name mixed with an early 2010s social media term “art hoe.” Under this pseudonym, Picasshoe first gained recognition for creating art that explored the complexities of his dueling identities of being an LGBTQ+ artist while surrounded by traditional Latino ideals.

While studying visual arts at UCLA, he reimagined Sandro Botticelli’s painting “The Birth of Venus” with LGBTQ+ imagery, created a 9-foot-tall Christmas cactus in honor of the time he spent with his father during the holidays and hosted a solo exhibition called “Mystic Garden,” which showcased pieces inspired by flowers given to him by an ex-partner. It’s also where he developed his signature red-dominant style in both his fashion and art.

“Red is my comfort color,” Picasshoe said.

He suffered from occasional panic attacks while studying at UCLA, he explained, which discouraged him from going to school. It continued for months — until he found himself wearing a bright red outfit, which brought him a sense of peace.

“It just kind of grew from there,” he added. “It just followed me everywhere that I went.”

Picasshoe also posted videos showcasing his pieces on social media. Like his artwork, his posts were intricately filmed and edited with bright red accents. They were also accompanied by narration detailing the work’s inspiration, creation process and meaning. His efforts amassed him almost 200,000 followers between TikTok and Instagram.

This rapid growth, both on social media and within his network, brought new opportunities to grow professionally in Los Angeles. Yet after graduating in 2022, he decided to continue his career in his hometown instead.

“It was just a different pace that I was not ready for,” he said. “The art scene out here is much more [based in] community, as opposed to [money] or clout. It’s more of making work that people here will get to enjoy.”

It’s a decision that’s worked in his favor.

This year, he’s been honored by the city at the Mayor’s Ball for the Arts with the Emerging Artist award and recognized as one of UCLA’s top 100 alumni entrepreneurs for 2025. Picasshoe’s decision to be a professional artist within the Inland Empire also came at a time when opportunities for Latino artists in the region have grown in recent years.

Cosme Cordova, long-time Riverside Chicano artist and Division 9 Gallery founder, explained that for decades, Latino artists considered Riverside a “boot camp” instead of a city where they could make a living. They would earn some money in their hometown, then travel to other prominent locations, like Los Angeles or Palm Springs, where artists felt their work was more respected. As the years went on, he said, the local community began to understand the value in supporting its artists.

“Then when the Cheech came, it’s got international attention, so it’s just gotten even better,” Cordova said. “I’m starting to see a lot of artists now more genuinely focused on just trying to showcase their work here in Riverside.”

The most prominent addition within the region has been the Cheech Marin Center for Chicano Art and Culture — known colloquially as “the Cheech.” The museum is widely considered the only space in the country that exclusively showcases Latino-made exhibitions, including some of Picasshoe’s work.

Since returning to the Inland Empire, Picasshoe’s artistic vision caught the attention of both community leaders and larger institutions. While hosting one of his first solo exhibitions, called “Red Thoughts,” at the Eastside Arthouse in Riverside, the directors of the Cheech took notice of his unique style.

“They approach their work with abandon, with any medium,” said María Esther Fernández, the center’s artistic director. “They had an installation and it was very interactive and immersive. I think pushing the boundaries of that is really fun and innovative.”

It would lead Picasshoe to work on a wide range of projects in collaboration with the Chicano art center for the next three years.

Perry Picasshoe stands in front of the Cheech Marin Center for Chicano Art & Culture in Riverside, Calif., on July 3, 2025.

(Daniel Hernandez)

Last year, Picasshoe teamed up with Inland Empire-based artist Emmanuel Camacho Larios to curate an exhibition for the Cheech’s community gallery called “Desde los Cielos.”

“It was a group show that explored what the term ‘alien’ meant in the context of Chicanxs, and alien in the political, the social and the queerness of it all,” Picasshoe said. “I also made a huge painting for that one, the largest that I’ve ever done so far.”

The seven-foot-tall painting, called “Simulacra of Guillermo Hernandez, Beethoven, y los Guachimontones,” depicts his late grandfather sitting on the bed of a pickup truck alongside a small chihuahua. In the background, looming over his abuelo, is a giant circular pyramid built by the Teuchitlán people. A golden pyramid, made from Abuelita Mexican Chocolate bricks, was placed in front of the painting; the bricks were free for the taking during the exhibition’s debut.

After the time for his co-curated exhibition ended, another installation named “Queer Wishes” was featured in the Cheech for an exhibition co-curated by the Eastside Arthouse’s founder and resident artist.

The piece is a three-dimensional black box with a white dress made from bath towels and bedazzled gems displayed on a dress form mannequin inside. Next to the mannequin is a small black vanity desk and mirror with makeup and porcelain wishbones filling the table’s surface.

“The first time I was really able to express myself was when I would get out of the bathroom, put my bath towel on and pretend it was a dress,” Picasshoe said. “I know I’m not the only one with that experience of being in the bathroom and having that be the only time you have to yourself.”

Since debuting the installation at the Cheech, Picasshoe had hoped to take a step back from creating larger community-focused pieces and spend time finalizing some personal projects. However, as immigration enforcement raids ramped up in Southern California, Picasshoe felt the need to create artwork to express his frustration.

Picasshoe and his father drove the family truck to Fontana on July 3 to pick up three translucent ice slabs, each about 40 inches tall and weighing around 300 pounds, and brought them back to downtown Riverside.

They arrived 45 minutes before the start of the city’s monthly arts walk, an event where dozens of local vendors set up booths to sell their artwork to hundreds of residents.

Picasshoe and his father slowly unloaded the slabs from the truck’s bed onto a dolly and wheeled the installations out into the three chosen locations: the front of the Cheech Marin Center for Chicano Art and Culture, the epicenter of the city’s monthly arts walk event and the front of the Riverside County Superior Court.

A wooden platform was placed under each slab, with the words “life,” “liberty” and “the pursuit of happiness,” written upside down and divided between the three art pieces, along with a QR code explaining its meaning.

He chose this day, he said, because of its high foot traffic. It was the best opportunity to help some passersby feel represented while confronting others with a hard truth.

“Art should be lived in,” Picasshoe said. “It’s prevalent in a lot of my work, and especially this one, since it’s meant to be commenting on something regarding the public.”

Twenty-five years ago on Sept. 11, 2000, UPN debuted a comedy called “Girlfriends” that followed the lives of four Black women living in Los Angeles.

The show’s creator, Mara Brock Akil, who’d gotten her start writing on shows like “South Central,” “Moesha” and “The Jamie Foxx Show,” was tired of seeing out-of-touch depictions of Black women on screen. She wanted to raise a mirror to Black women and showcase them in their fullness as fleshed out characters who are ambitious, creative, messy at times and most importantly nuanced.

The first season of “Girlfriends” on DVD.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

For eight seasons until the show was abruptly canceled in 2008, viewers tuned in to watch the tight-knit friend group that included Joan (Tracee Ellis Ross), Toni (Jill Marie Jones), Lynn (Persia White) and Maya (Golden Brooks) navigate relationships, sexism at work, beauty, classism, sexuality and everything in between. Today, “Girlfriends,” which was added to Netflix’s catalog in 2020, is widely considered one of the most influential TV shows to affect Black culture.

To commemorate the 25th anniversary of “Girlfriends,” DCDG & Co., an L.A.-based fine arts agency, has teamed up with the cast and Loren LaRosa of iHeartRadio’s “The Breakfast Club” to independently curate an art exhibition that pays homage to the groundbreaking series. The showcase, which explores the show’s core themes including sisterhood, ambition and self-discovery through photography, sculpture, paintings, an installation and more, will be on display from Friday through Sunday at the Line Hotel in Koreatown.

Each artwork featured in the all Black women exhibition was selected by the “Girlfriends” cast and LaRosa — all of whom are first time art curators. The three-day event will also feature an artist talk led by DCDG & Co. co-founder Delaney George on Saturday, which is open to the public.

A sculpture of a Black woman’s head titled “She” by Alé Reviere was selected for the exhibition.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“[This] show deserves to be celebrated and if we in the culture don’t do it, then we’re just waiting for the powers that be or networks that are transitioning to a digital space,” says David Colbert Jr., co-founder of DCDG & Co. “These moments might get passed up on.”

“Girlfriends: A Visual Tribute” is part of DCDG & Co.’s ongoing curatorial series called Iconic Visions, which invites individuals in various creative spaces like TV, film, music, fashion and sports to step into the role of curator.

When Colbert brought the idea about doing the exhibit to his friend Brooks — whom he met at Frieze a couple of years ago — her response was an immediate yes.

“We are wearable art,” says Golden Brooks. “We are visual art in the space of a TV show.”

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“I always want to do something special for [these milestones] because it is a bookmark of everything that “Girlfriends” has done,” says Brooks. “We are still uplifting communities. We are still entertaining and empowering the daughters of the mothers who watch the show, so we’re kind of raising generations of young women.”

Brooks, who has been a longtime supporter of the L.A. arts community, says having an art exhibition to celebrate the anniversary was the perfect way to blend both of her passions.

“We are wearable art. We are visual art in the space of a TV show,” she says. “This also inspired artists to celebrate how they see us as women of color, as women in a space of unity and connection, and what better way to be the springboard and the catalyst to celebrate what sisterhood looks like?”

White, who’s been drawing and painting since she was a child, had a similar reaction to being a part of the exhibit. “When they sent me the links to the art, I literally got tears in my eyes,” she says. “I was just really touched by the women and [their] different experiences.”

“Girlfriends: A Visual Tribute” also features a solo exhibition put together by DCDG & Co. cultural curator Erika Conner, which is a collection of photos of iconic Black women including Rihanna, Lil Kim and Naomi Campbell, taken by renowned photographer Cheryl Fox.

While the main exhibition pays tribute to “Girlfriends,” there’s only one artwork — a mixed media piece by Jillian Thompson that uses acrylic, thread and collage — that displays the beloved friends group’s actual faces. All of the other artwork draws inspiration from the show’s aesthetic, style and themes.

Among the artwork, which was made by artists from around the nation, there are multiple L.A.-based artists featured in the show including Brittany Byrd, McKayla Chandler, Tiffany “Just Rock” Brown, Asari Aibangbee and Tumi Adeleye.

McKayla Chandler, a multidisciplinary artist based in L.A., created an interactive installation for the exhibit called “Mama’s Hands Only.” The installation mimics a living room and features a couch, rug, an entertainment center with family photos sprinkled on top and an old school TV that displays episodes of “Girlfriends.” The focal point of the installation, which hangs on a wall above the couch, is a large portrait of Chandler’s mother braiding her hair as she’s done since she was a little girl.

A close-up of multidisciplinary artist McKayla Chandler’s installation titled “Mama’s Hands Only.”

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“To me it feels like connection. Any young, Black woman or Black kid in general can relate to sitting in their mom’s lap and getting their hair braided,” says Chandler. “[The show] is really about these friends going through life together, going through different relationships and even bickering with each other, [then] coming back together. It’s a very special bond that they have with each other, so [with] me thinking about showing my mom here and having this place for you to sit down, look through someone’s old photographs and watch ‘Girlfriends,’ it lends to the nostalgic feeling of it all.”

Although Tiffany “Just Rock” Brown, a photographer based in L.A., primarily takes photos of men, particularly male rappers, she decided to submit a few images for the “Girlfriends” exhibit because she grew up watching the show with her family. Her photo, titled “In This Light,” that was selected for the show depicts two Black women embracing while on the set of Kendrick Lamar’s “Not Like Us” music video, which was shot in Nickerson Gardens.

A painting titled “Leona’s in the Upper Room” by Marie Jose is featured in the “Girlfriends: A Visual Tribute” exhibit.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“These girls are the epitome of what you see when you come to these areas, but they’re also the inspiration for high fashion, for all those things that don’t get acknowleged,” she says. It reminded her of the void that “Girlfriends” filled when it debuted.

“I think there’s beautiful representation of what [Black people] have done and what we’ve accomplished, and “Girlfriends” is a true representation of that,” says Brown. “Women that were dressed flawlessly. They were beautiful. They were successful. They were just living life and trying to find love, just regular stories. It’s very much still a space that’s missing [in television], but I think it should definitely be celebrated.”

Like Brown, Brittany Byrd, a multidisciplinary artist from L.A., was also introduced to “Girlfriends” at a young age. “It was just always on in my house,” says Byrd. “I just remember seeing Tracee Ellis Ross and I was like, ‘Damn, she’s beautiful!’”

For the exhibit, Byrd created a piece titled “Episode 17,” which is inspired by an episode in Season 4 titled “Love, Peace and Hair Grease.”

“It’s mostly about Lynn and her exploring her hair through her identity as a Black woman, but whether you’re mixed or all Black, hair is something that is at the top of our minds,” says Byrd, who was still putting the final touches on her 6-foot painting. “Whether it’s done or if we’re polished, we’re always just kind of seeking those questions of validity through societal beauty standards when it’s like we’re as beautiful as we feel. So I want my piece to just evoke emotion.”

As she prepares for opening night of the exhibit, Brooks says she’s most excited to meet all of the artists and to see how all of the artwork comes together.

One of her favorite pieces in the exhibit is a massive, hyperrealism painting by Alé Reviere. Fittingly titled “See Through You,” it depicts a young woman’s face, staring intensely back at the viewer.

A painting titled “See Through You” by Alé Reviere is featured in the “Girlfriends” tribute exhibition.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“All of her features were just so us,” says Brooks. “The texture of her hair and the expression on her face. There was a pain. There was a sadness, but there’s also sort of this freedom and unapologetic look in her eyes.”

She adds, “Pieces like that just move me.”

After living in her two-bedroom apartment in Los Feliz for more than a decade, Debra Weiss encountered a problem experienced by many renters in Los Angeles: She was evicted.

“I moved into the apartment in 2014, and four years later, my landlord sold it to a wealthy family who bought it at a loss,” said Weiss, 69, who works as a textile artist. “They knew they couldn’t evict us due to rent control.”

In this series, we spotlight L.A. rentals with style. From perfect gallery walls to temporary decor hacks, these renters get creative, even in small spaces. And Angelenos need the inspiration: Most are renters.

When the landlords put the three-unit complex on the market in 2022, however, they offered Weiss $50,000 to move out — far more than the amount required by law — to make the building easier for them to sell. She declined, concerned it would affect her Social Security benefits, as there is a limit to how much one can earn and still receive full benefits.

Then, last February, the three tenants received eviction notices under the Ellis Act, which allows landlords to evict renters from rent-controlled apartments if the building is being torn down or removed from the rental market. It’s currently for sale for $3.2 million.

As a senior, Weiss was entitled to a full year’s notice because she had lived in her unit for more than a year. Still, she knew she would eventually have to move out of the comfortable 1,200-square-foot duplex, for which she paid $2,670 a month in rent.

Artist Debra Weiss stands in her dining room where she often works as a fiber artist.

When she began looking for another apartment in the area, Weiss quickly learned that she could no longer afford to live in Los Feliz. “The apartments were so much more expensive than what I was used to paying, and they had no parking or a washer and dryer,” she said. (Weiss was paid $24,650 in relocation assistance, which was taxed, due to her age and the length of time she lived in her Los Feliz apartment.)

She also visited some small studios and considered purchasing a TIC, or Tenancy in Common, where buyers purchase a share in a corporation that owns a building. However, to secure a loan, she’d need someone to co-sign. “Even though they are cute, they are tiny and not necessarily in the best neighborhoods,” she said. Another option, a Craftsman apartment near USC, wasn’t in a good walking neighborhood, something that was important to Weiss. It was also dark and hundreds of dollars more a month than her previous apartment. “I’m almost 70 years old and I need light to work,” she added.

Handknitted sculptures, embroidered weavings and a tufted rug adorn the guest room.

When her son-in-law spotted a charming two-bedroom apartment near the Los Angeles County Museum of Art for $2,950 a month on Zillow, Weiss decided to check it out.

“My initial reaction was, ‘I want this,’ ” Weiss said of the fourplex.

The rental had high ceilings, oak floors, ample sunlight, an appealing fireplace, a garage and a washer and dryer. A newly redone modern kitchen felt out of character for the 1930s building, but that didn’t bother Weiss. “The kitchen is a blank canvas,” she said of the all-white cabinets and countertops. “The white background makes all of my stuff stand out,” including ceramics by Mt. Washington Pottery and Altadena artist Linda Hsiao.

Weiss knits a sweater for her granddaughter with yarn she purchased in Japan.

Concerned that the landlord wouldn’t want to rent to her because of her age, she was pleasantly surprised when she got the apartment. “The light is amazing,” Weiss said. “I was initially worried about some of the modern touches like the overhead lighting, but it floods the room with bright light that allows me to work at night.”

Nearly a year after moving in, Weiss has filled the apartment with her stitched collages, quilts and the artworks of others, many of which she described as “trades.” “I like color and pattern and objects,” she said as she pointed out some Japanese ceramics on her buffet and a dress that she crocheted with scraps of fabric, yarn and metal.

In the guest room, a wall hanging composed of three separate weavings in a gingham check pattern is embroidered with a series of characters she based on her 5-year-old granddaughter’s drawings. “It’s about people coming together in chaos and supporting each other,” Weiss said. “I like the pattern; it reminds me of eating together on picnic tables.”

“I like objects,” Weiss said of the many treasures and collections of things that are featured throughout her rental.

On the opposite wall of the guest room above her sewing machine, a series of metal sculptures she knitted with copper and silver hangs alongside cloth dolls and purses. In the corner, a cowl made of macrame, textiles and yarn adorns a mannequin. There’s also a colorful latch hook rug that she made with acrylic yarn that looks more like artwork than a functional accessory.

In her bedroom, a coverlet that Weiss assembled from vintage quilts adorns the bed.

The long hallway ends at the laundry room and is lined with her colorful quilts, some of which are mounted on Homasote board, along with weavings and stitched works, which, like her cooking, are improvisational.

“I work without planning and respond to the materials and see what it becomes,” she said. “I start knitting and see where it goes. I get excited about the material, and then I go for it. “

The hallway in Weiss’s apartment is lined with her artworks.

Much of the wood furniture in her apartment was made by her father, who died 13 years ago.

“I’ve had this since my kids were little, and you can see all the markings,” she said of the hutch in the corner of her dining room. “My dad made it 40 years ago for the Van Nuys house I grew up in.”

It is here, at the dining room table that her father made, that she works, hosts workshops and teaches lessons in fiber art, collage and stitching. Later this year, she hopes to host a sale of her work at a holiday open house in her apartment.

Weiss is an expert in mixing texture, pattern and color in her Mid-Wilshire apartment.

The mixing of colorful Persian rugs, textiles, natural materials, chunky wood pieces and intricately knitted metal sculptures creates a warm balance throughout her apartment.

Bursting with color and pattern, the rooms offer a sense of calm that Weiss appreciates as a woman who raised three daughters alone and has had to pivot during major life changes. Over the years, she has run a clothing company, Rebe, which closed in 2019 due to economic uncertainty, declared bankruptcy and sold her Woodland Hills house. Most recently, she was forced to weather the eviction process.

“I’ve always been an entrepreneur,” said Weiss, who works six to eight hours a day at home and sells her artwork and sewing patterns on her Specks and Keepings website and at L.A. Homefarm in Glassell Park. “I’ll always figure out a way to make money by selling the things that I make.”

Even though the process of having to move was stressful, Weiss is happy with her new home and neighborhood. “I take the Metro bus everywhere and hardly ever drive,” she said. “I go to the Hollywood Farmer’s Market on Sundays. Kaiser is nearby and I can walk to LACMA. Everything worked out perfectly.”

Weiss pulls out a drawer of her flat files cabinet filled with her artwork.

The two towering sculptures comprising thousands of pounds of bronze and stainless steel took artist and filmmaker Sir Daniel Winn more than a year to complete.

They vanished in a weekend.

Police believe that on June 14 or 15 at least one thief made off with both “Icarus Within” and “Quantum Mechanics: Homme,” — sculptures valued at a combined $2.1 million — from a warehouse in Anaheim Hills. Other artwork and valuables inside the warehouse that would have been easier to move were untouched. Authorities have scant details about the heist.

“Unfortunately, we have little information but we are investigating,” Anaheim Police Sgt. Matt Sutter said.

The life-sized “Quantum Mechanics: Homme” artwork, composed of lucite, bronze and stainless steel, depicts a winged and horned man and was featured in the award-winning short film “Creation” in 2022. It’s valued at $1.8 million.

A second Winn piece, “Icarus Within,” based partially on the sculptor’s chaotic childhood escape from Vietnam, is a steel and bronze sculpture that also stands 8 feet tall, weighs a ton, and is valued at $350,000.

Both sculptures were being stored in a temporary facility and were last seen by warehouse workers in Anaheim Hills on Saturday, according to the Anaheim Police Department.

When the workers returned to the facility Monday, both pieces were missing, according to police.

Winn believes the pieces may have been stolen by an unscrupulous collector while an art recovery expert suspects the two sculptures will be destroyed for scrap metal.

“Typically these sculptures, when we do exhibitions, take about a dozen men and two forklifts to move it and a flatbed or a truck to carry it,” Winn said. “This is not an easy task.”

Winn told The Times that the last few days have been stressful and that his anxiety has been “through the roof.” Winn is considered a blue-chip artist, meaning his work is highly sought after and has a high monetary value.

The former UC Irvine medical student, who was once homeless after switching his major from medicine to art, said he blends fine art, quantum metaphysics and philosophy into his work.

The Vietnamese refugee owns the Winn Slavin Fine Art gallery on Rodeo Drive and was appointed earlier this month as Art Commissioner for John Wayne Airport.

The loss of his art has pushed Winn “to a dark place,” he said, though he’s found some catharsis in talking about the situation.

“These are my children,” he said of each of his individual works. “I have no physical, organic children. Every artwork I create is my child.”

The larger of two sculptures, “Homme,” was the seventh and only unsold work in Winn’s Quantum Mechanics series, which explores philosophical concepts, universal truths and tries to answer the enduring question: why are we here?

The smaller “Icarus Within” focused on Winn’s struggle around the age of 9 in emigrating to the United States in the final days of the Vietnam War. The sculpture was tied to Winn’s movie “Chrysalis,” based on his memoirs, that is supposed to premier this fall.

Winn said the level of sophistication in the theft led him to suspect he was targeted and that his pieces may be on the black market.

He turned over a list of individuals who have recently inquired about his sculptures to police, he said.

Sutter, the Anaheim Police sergeant, said this is the largest burglary he’s seen in his 25 years with the department.

“We’ve had our share of high-end homes that were burglarized, but this type of crime, involving forklifts, trucks, crews and the sheer size of the sculptures is something I can’t remember us having before,” Sutter said.

Sutter said investigators are asking businesses near the warehouse for any footage that could help them identify a suspect.

“I have no idea where these sculptures are,” Sutter said. “They could be in somebody’s house or in a shipping container somewhere. That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

Chris Marinello, founder of the dispute resolution and art recovery service named Art Recovery International, said the sculptures will likely be scrapped for their metals.

Marinello said scrap yards tear apart such works into thousands of small pieces to cloak the metal’s origin.

“Unfortunately, the criminals are not that bright and they don’t see artwork but, instead, a sculpture worth millions that is more valuable to them for the raw metals like steel and bronze,” Marinello said.

Marinello pointed to a two-ton Henry Moore bronze sculpture, known as the Reclining Figure, stolen from the artist’s foundation in Hertfordshire, England in 2005.

The piece was valued at 3 million pounds, but authorities believe it was scrapped for just 1,500 pounds.

“You can’t sell sculptures of this magnitude on the market,” Marinello said of the Winn’s stolen pieces.

L.A. has long been a beacon for the arts. So it’s only fitting that “Forever,” the Netflix series that showrunner Mara Brock Akil envisioned as “a love story within a love letter to Los Angeles,” celebrates local artists.

The Midcentury Modern home of Justin Edwards, one half of the couple whose love story informs the show — an adaptation of Judy Blume’s 1975 novel — is flooded with work from Black Angelenos.

“Local Los Angeles artists were important for me to put into the sets, and the Edwards family home, specifically, being collectors of Los Angeles art,” Akil, an L.A. native, told The Times.

Production designer Suzuki Ingerslev and set decorator Ron Franco are also Angelenos, which they said contributed to the cultural competency of their work on “Forever.” Although the writers’ strike made elements of their jobs difficult, both agreed that their experience on “Forever” was uniquely positive, in large part because of their curation of the art in the Edwards’ home.

“Sometimes art can really make a space and it makes a statement and it tells you who the character is,” said Ingerslev. “In this case, you really knew who the Edwards were — they curated art and they cared about where they live — and I thought that really made a big difference through the art and through the furnishings as well.”

Franco agreed, saying he had fun sourcing artwork from Black artists that matched Ingerslev’s color palette and also contained themes pertinent to the show.

“A lot of times the shows that you see now are just headshots and everything that we put up becomes a background piece that’s kind of blurred,” he said. “We are very lucky in that this camera really opened up, and you follow everybody through both of the [permanent] sets and you really feel a lot.”

Audiences noticed their effort, said Ingerslev, who’s been bombarded with questions about the artworks in “Forever,” which was just renewed for a second season.

Here are five local Black artists whose work are featured in the show.

Noah Humes, 31

Humes cites a book about artist and writer Romare Bearden that he received from Akil when he was 6 years old as the foundation for his worldview as an artist. (Humes’ mother was a casting director on “Girlfriends,” the 2000s TV series created by Akil, whom Humes calls “Auntie Mara.”)

“I look back [and] that’s what helped form and shape my energy with how I approach the canvas, wanting to tell the story of my community and different things that I see — social moments, political moments, historical remnants,” said the figurative painter.

Humes is drawn to bright colors that capture the vibrancy of his hometown of L.A. “Her” and “Mid City,” which feature prominently in the Edwards family’s media room in “Forever,” depict solitary figures against yellow backgrounds. The foliage in “Her” grows in Humes’ mother’s frontyard. “Mid City,” the neighborhood where Humes was raised, features the red-crowned parrots that wake him up every morning.

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1. “Her” (Noah Humes) 2. “Mid City” (Noah Humes)

“I felt inclined to represent and show a certain subtlety of ‘We’re here, we’re centered, we’re always a focal point of unfortunate times, but also we can overcome things and become stronger than we have been,’” Humes said of the twin paintings, which he completed in 2020 after George Floyd’s murder and the national racial reckoning that followed.

Humes also credits his neighbors in L.A., a “system of Black excellence,” for positively influencing his artistry. Animator Lyndon Barrois (“Happy Feet,” “Alvin and the Chipmunks”) is his mentor, and members of the hip-hop collective Odd Future, including siblings Syd and Travis “Taco” Bennett, as well as Thebe Kgositsile — who uses the stage name Earl Sweatshirt — are his childhood friends.

Francis ‘Tommy’ Mitchell, 41

(Francis “Tommy” Mitchell)

Mitchell has been drawing for as long as he can remember, but it was a high school classmate pointing out the permanent nature of a ballpoint pen that led to his aha moment.

“You can erase graphite, you can paint over acrylic and oil,” said the Baltimore- and L.A.-based artist. “Ink is one of those things that I just think of, no pun intended here, it’s forever.”

Mitchell’s portraits feature individuals shaded with ink set against monochromatic acyrlic background. Because it is extremely time-consuming, most artists working in ink compose smaller, more intimate images, said Mitchell. In contrast, his portraits are huge. If the work were hung on the walls of a museum, the viewer may never notice the figure’s skin was drawn in ink and not paint.

“Going to museums or galleries as a kid, I would see these amazing European paintings, and I’m like, ‘Wow, these are amazing,’ but there’s no one that looks like me,” he said, of his desire to focus on portraiture.

“Francis R. of City College”

(Francis “Tommy” Mitchell)

The subject of “Francis R. of City College,” Mitchell’s painting featured in the Edwards’ dining room in “Forever,” is modeled after his father. For Mitchell, the work represents a young man with his whole life ahead of him. Making the painting in his Baltimore studio less than a mile away from City College, where his father attended high school, felt like a full-circle moment.

Seeing the work on television only adds to the significance.

“One of my goals is to always promote those who work in ink because it’s not a traditional medium,” he said, pointing to tattoo artists Jun Cha and Mister Cartoon as inspirations. “So for it to be seen on television, it lends credence to, ‘Hey, we’re doing something special as well.’”

Edwin Marcelin, 50

Marcelin’s first job as a teenager was at Stüssy, a Laguna Beach streetwear brand founded in the early 1980s. Minimalist graphic design, a trademark of Stüssy as well as brands Supreme and Undefeated, has always informed his art.

“Everything usually is about engagement, confrontation or affection,” said Marcelin. “Those are things that I tend to generate towards by using very minimal strokes.”

During his time at the California College of the Arts — then called the California College of Arts and Crafts — Marcelin was drawn to Bauhaus, a German school of art that melds functionality and design. Marcelin applies those abstract Bauhaus fundamentals and adds the element of movement.

“If it ain’t moving, it ain’t me,” said the L.A.-born-and-raised artist.

Marcelin said his emphasis on motion lends itself well to the screen — his piece “Clarity,” a dynamic painting of Michael Jordan taking flight, hangs in basketball-loving Justin’s bedroom in “Forever.”

“I think Black folks in Los Angeles are dynamic, so I try to keep dynamic images, people doing things, not standing there, and I think that translates to film very well,” said Marcelin.

“Clarity” is part of a 23-painting series titled “Black Jesus.” Each image in the series, which took Marcelin about five months to complete in its entirety, references Jordan, who Marcelin said is disappearing visually from pop culture. Case in point: He said his 19- and 16-year-old sons may recognize the Jumpman logo, but they wouldn’t instantly recognize an image of Jordan himself.

“There’ll be more basketball players, but I wanted to do something that was completely abstract representing him because he has so many moments that are fantastically beautiful,” said Marcelin.

Corey Pemberton, 34

With a background in collage, glassblowing and painting, Pemberton’s large mixed-media works — of a man singing into his toothbrush in the bathroom, a naked woman smoking marijuana in bed, a man devouring a plate of his mother’s food — are both intimate and mundane.

“At a certain point, I turned an interest to those who had been marginalized by society in some way, whether it was because of the color of their skin or their gender expression or their socioeconomic status, and developed an interest in depicting those people in a way that both celebrated them but also gave them some space to just exist,” he said.

Such themes of ownership and viewership are etched into Pemberton’s work. For example, he depicts the space and objects around his figures in vivid detail. Objects are important, he said, because they carry memories of “the people who created them or gave them to us or lived with them before us.”

Similarly, his painting “The Collector” celebrates “a young black person who’s making a concerted effort to own and conserve our culture, which is so often falling into the hands of people who don’t care about us on a deeper level.” And in many of Pemberton’s pieces, miniature renderings of his previous works can be found on the walls of his subjects’ homes.

“I think when you see a work presented that way, it sort of brings a heightened level of importance,” said Pemberton.

“I Used to Cook More”

(Corey Pemberton)

So it’s doubly significant that Pemberton’s work is on display in the wealthy Edwards’ home in “Forever.” The art in question, “I Used to Cook More,” can be found in the family’s kitchen and depicts Pemberton’s friend and fellow collector Jared Culp eating out of a white takeout container.

“We were talking about all of the takeout that we now consume as busy young Black creatives in L.A. trying to claw our way to the top of something,” said Pemberton.

But success in the art world has been easier to come by in L.A., where he relocated to after six years in rural North Carolina, said Pemberton.

“When I moved to Los Angeles, not only was I selling work but I was selling work to people with shared experience,” he said. “I was getting feedback that not only were these works that people wanted to live with, but they were works that people saw themselves reflected in, and that I was doing something important or meaningful to more people than just myself.”

Charles A. Bibbs, 77

Bibbs worked in corporate America for 25 years before becoming an artist full time. For Bibbs, art — in a crosshatching style, in his case — is all about communicating universal ideas.

“I mix that crosshatching with different colors and paint, and it’s just one layer on top of another until you get your desired effect,” Bibbs said of his “spontaneous” way of creating that’s “almost like magic sometimes.”

Like many Black artists, Bibbs chose his subject matter out of necessity. As a young man, he encountered few Black artists, yet innately understood the power of positive images of the Black experience, especially in the home.

“It’s a very honorable occupation because you’re giving people a part of you that is changing their lives in an aesthetic way,” he said. “All of those things play into people proud to be who they are.”

“Daddy’s Love”

(Charles A. Bibbs)

In “Forever,” viewers may catch a glimpse of “Daddy’s Love,” a drawing of Bibbs’ father and Bibbs and his sister as children, on the wall outside Justin’s bedroom. But this isn’t the first time his work has made it to the screen. Bibbs is credited with the Black Madonna artwork on the honey jar central to the plot of the 2008 film “The Secret Life of Bees.” He said the experience underscored the importance of art, which he said touches the “subconscious mind.”

“[My work] was part of the presentation of the movie and in some way or another may have helped them understand what that movie was really all about.”