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O J AI M A G A Z I N E | SPRING ‘24
A life-size Elvis in a pink Cadillac convertible, all made of styrofoam.
by PERRY VAN HOUTEN
Jacey Clear A
s an artist, Jacey Clear has worn many hats, and to describe him as a “Renaissance man” would be accurate, but maybe a little too highbrow for his liking. Instead, he prefers self-labels like “Retro Man” and “Captain Observo.” “I pay attention to everything on the planet and I register it,” says the 73-year-old painter, sculptor, set designer, playwright, poet, and singer-songwriter. “I have that kind of cognitive framework.” Right at home in an artistic community like Ojai, Clear resides in an old, renovated barn in the Arbolada where every corner of every room is a reflection of his art. Born in 1950 in St. Paul, Clear spent his early childhood in Upsala, in Morrison County, Minnesota. “If you draw an ‘X’ through the state it’s in the center,” he says. “The name of the town is right there on the water tower.” In those days, Upsala consisted of widely scattered farmhouses and a small downtown area. “This is Mayberry, where I’m from,” says Clear. The town itself was smaller than Meiners Oaks, and when he left the population was 425. “So it’s 424 now, I guess.” Clear was one of four kids, and his family alternated between Upsala on weekends and the suburbs of Minneapolis during the school week. Dad was a blacksmith and a welder. One thing his son learned early on was that “the city people weren’t like the country people.” In school, Clear excelled in track and gymnastics. “I liked Burt Lancaster and all The Crimson Pirate movies,” he says. “I could do
RENAISSANCE MAN back-handsprings and backflips and high bar and all that jazz.” After high school he worked 12-hour days at Pillsbury shoveling grain in a grain elevator for $4.50 an hour, and in his free time drew caricatures of his co-workers. Because she didn’t want his artistic talents to be wasted, a girlfriend coaxed Clear into getting a formal college education, leading to a diploma from North Hennepin Community College in Brooklyn Park, Minnesota. After college, he worked as an illustrator for catalogs such as Banana Republic and Jandd Mountaineering. One of the first things Clear built was a jukebox, constructed from flat acrylic stock that he bent into curves in his mother’s oven. Years ago, he sold the jukebox, outfitted with an 8-track tape player and a full array of lights, for $1,200. Musical influences can be found throughout Clear’s home workshop, where in the loft he has re-created Rosa’s Cantina from the 1959 Marty Robbins song “El Paso.” In the living room is an old player piano that doubles as a piano bar. In one corner of the barn is an east-facing window painted by Clear that shows the view you’d see if it actually were a window. He’s currently in the process of building his “Pirate Room,” which will be decorated like the inside of a ship captain’s quarters. In 1978, Clear came to California for three