Meet Edward L. Rubin | Fine Art Photographer

We had the good fortune of connecting with Edward L. Rubin and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Edward L., we’d love to hear about how you approach risk and risk-taking
Nobody ever attained anything profound by playing it safe–especially artists. Risk taking is the name of the game, and at the heart of risk taking is flexible thinking. And flexible thinking means one is willing to change, to grow, to consider something new and untried, to expand one’s boundaries. And that, of course, means facing one’s fears–those voices in our head that say ‘no, be careful, you can’t do that.’ Those voices think that they are protecting us, but really, they aren’t. They are scared, and are trying to protect us from getting hurt. But guess what? They themselves are hurting us by holding us back from exploring and becoming authentically ourselves. I have spent a lifetime saying no to those voices. And it hasn’t been easy. But every time I faced my fears and tried something new, either some new experience, or some new way of creating something, I have been richly rewarded, both in my personal life and in my art. I dared to leave my job as a successful Hollywood Art Director and become a painter in San Francisco, something I had dreamed of my entire life but was too terrified to do. And that’s where I met my husband of thirty-four years. Then, I became a fine art photographer in Los Angeles (my home town), and am now shown in exhibitions both nationally and internationally. My images reflect deep places in my psyche that I am willing to look at and express; it’s not always fun. But they are significantly meaningful, not only to me, but to the people that view them and see a bit of themselves–and that’s the most important thing. Without risk taking, none of this would have happened.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
As an artist, I interpret the world as I perceive and know it. And what do I see and know? Drama. Tension. Humor. Contradiction. Sensuality. Tragedy. Beauty. Ambiguity. Love. And God. I see all of this because I am inescapably surrounded by its reflection in every person, place, and thing that I encounter. I am immersed in it just by being alive. My need to express what I see has always been the driving force in my life. It’s all I have ever really cared about, all that has motivated me and that I thought was ever important and worth doing. Well, that, and the love I have for certain people. That, too. But I struggled with committing to being an artist, because I was scared that I could not make a living. So instead, I had a career as an Art Director and Production Designer in film and television to make money, but I was miserable. Finally, after a lot of therapy (and I mean A LOT), I was able to overcome my fears and start my art career. First, I became a painter; now, I am a fine art photographer, and I have been honing my artistic sensibilities and craft for decades.
Thematically, much of my work shows how the extraordinary is revealed through the ordinary. It is the collision of the random and the designed, the pieces and bits of stuff that I see in corners and shadows, left-overs that lurk behind doors, that fill bathtubs, that are thrown on couches, that capture my attention, that make me laugh or sometimes scare me. My special gift is the ability to see and create ironically surreal juxtapositions, either using mannequins, which are idealized representations of human beings, or combining people and mannequins together in a personal visual narrative that reveals some universal Truth. Growing up in Los Angeles, with my show business background and fascination with black and white Film Noir, has enormously influenced my sensibilities and uniquely infuses my work.
A major lesson I learned early on was to not overprice my art. I believed, mistakenly, that because I loved the image and it took a long time to create, it was worth a lot of money. However, the buying public doesn’t really care about how much time I invested, or that I think the work is magnificent. They are simply looking at what is in front of them, and, if they like it, deciding whether or not they can afford it. And without a significant resume and track record of sales, a new artist must start with low prices and slowly, over time–and a lot of sales–increase them. It never, never looks good to lower the price, and it upsets collectors who already paid a higher price for a similar piece. Many of my sales have come from people that know me or have seen my work over a period of time. Sales tend to be built on relationships, either cultivated by the gallery showing my work or by myself. People are not only buying the art; they are buying a piece of me.
Creating art, for me, is a hard-won calling. I am deadly serious about it, and it is mine to do and I work at it every day. And if, through seeing my images, someone gains some personal insight, or perhaps shares some universal experience that reveals our common humanity, then I am blessed.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
My great grandparents arrived in Los Angeles in 1900, so my family has been a part of this city for a long time. And although I have lived in other cities and in Europe, for me, Los Angeles is truly home. So rather than take someone to the latest trendy restaurant, club, or hangout, I prefer to show them the places that have somehow managed to survive since my childhood and remain a vital, and also historical part of the city. So, we would go to Canters Delicatessen for pastrami sandwiches, and El Cholo for Margaritas and Mexican food. Taylors Steakhouse would be another dining spot, as would Yamashiro’s in the Hollywood Hills, for the spectacular view. Of course, we would visit the Farmer’s Market at 3rd and Fairfax, where my parents took me growing up. And we would certainly drive on Sunset Boulevard from the Strip to the Pacific Ocean, something we did as a family on Sundays. We would walk in the park along Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica and enjoy the magnificent view, and we would most certainly visit both the Getty Museum and the Getty Malibu Villa, where the views, and gardens, are also extraordinary. The Petersen Auto Museum is a lot of fun, and I would normally take visitors to the Los Angeles County Art Museum (LACMA) which is currently under construction, where we would stroll in the La Brea Tar Pits park, where I used to play when I was a kid. We could visit the Hollywood Forever Cemetery behind Paramount Studios, where most of my family is buried, and then there is always Musso and Franks for martinis, the Pantages and Wiltern Theatres for a show, and The Last Bookstore in downtown for a fun destination that can also include some of the galleries in the Arts District. That’s a pretty full week!

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?
Well, where to begin? Every step of the way I have received the love and support of truly amazing people. First, of course, is my husband, the poet Sam Ambler, without whom I am nothing. He makes me possible, with his complete selflessness, stimulating insight, and constant hilarity. Then, in no particular order but each and every one of them an essential thread in the support hose of my life: Romain Johnston, my mentor in my art direction career, Beatrice Hittinger, my former wife and the most extraordinary human being ever created, Eric Lane, brilliant playwright and younger brother (but not by blood), Janet Andre Block, fellow artist who became family when I had nothing in New York City (and who only speaks Truth to me), and Sylvia White, esteemed gallerist and art consultant who saw potential in me and my work and now guides my career along with wonderful Patti Costello, my agent, who ceaselessly promotes me and bugs me constantly for artist statements. All of these people (and there are more) have profoundly guided, guarded, protected, directed, and nurtured me, for which I am forever grateful.

Website: www.edwardlrubinphoto.com

Instagram: @edwardlrubinphoto

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