‘Collectors’ journeys into the homes of fledgling and seasoned art buyers from across the globe. The ongoing series offers an intimate spotlight on a range of personal collections from hobbyist ephemera to blue-chip artworks — all the while dissecting an individual’s specific taste, at-home curation and purchase trajectory.
At 50, Cali Thornhill DeWitt has lived many lives. Some glamorous, others not so much.
Originally from British Columbia, DeWitt moved to Los Angeles at age three, where he’d break the monotony of the suburbs by entrenching himself in skate, surf, and punk music. In hindsight, these early beginnings continue to inform his rebellious DIY philosophy today.
Having dropped out of high school, DeWitt toured around the country with the band Hole, briefly landing in Seattle, where he’d befriend Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love, nannying their three-month-old daughter Frances Bean and even dressing in drag to model for the band’s In Utero (1993) CD graphic. This was up until ‘94, when Cobain tragically committed suicide — sending both DeWitt and the music world in a tailspin. As no stranger to drugs and alcohol himself, DeWitt nearly lost a grip on his own life before finally sobering up in 2001. “I’m not trying to bring anything like that back,” he tells us, “and I’m not trying to be like that’s what I’m about now, when I’m 50, but it’s an undeniable part of my lineage and foundation.”
From a short stint as an A&R rep for Geffen Records to co-founding his own label Teenage Teardrops in 2006, music has been a concurrent thread that ties each stage of his career, including The Life of Pablo (2016) merchandise he famously created for Ye or his own brand, © SAINT M ×××××× with graphic designer, Kosuke Kawamura.
Over the past 15 years, however, DeWitt has reinvented himself as a fine artist best known for creating provocative juxtapositions between striking imagery and haiku-like wordplay. He’s been a regular exhibitor at gallery’s such as V1 in Copenhagen, along with HVW8 in LA and Berlin, where DeWitt has played cultural instigator by emblazoning the words “CRIME SCENE” over an image of the White House, as well as showing colorful roses framed as a “CAGED ANIMAL.” “I want things that have a combination of aggression and humor,” DeWitt adds as we tour his Silverlake home. “Or anything that’s sort of spotlights how sh*tty people are and how f*cked up the world is.”
Given his folkloric status, it’s easy to think DeWitt lives in some Legion of Doom style mansion or an all-black Victorian home reminiscent of Batman, The Addams Family or the Borgund Stave Church in Norway. There is indeed a house like that on his street, but he actually lives several doors down in a modest craftsman-style abode that matches his welcoming nature as Hypeart paid a visit. With several gold teeth in mouth, Caramel Bobby — as he’s known on Instagram — greeted us to stacks of out-of-print books, rare artist editions and designer furniture.
DeWitt, admittedly, doesn’t consider himself a ‘collector’ per say, and says his obsession borderlines hoarding things. But regardless if its a rare early painting by Mario Ayala, sunglasses he wore to remind himself of an obscure sci-fi character called RanXerox or $1 USD crime novels from Donald Goines — DeWitt just wants to love what he lives with. “It doesn’t have to cost a lot of money.
For the latest Collectors, Hypeart toured Cali Thornhill DeWitt’s art collection mapped across his Silverlake home, his uncle’s pad nearby, and his West Adams studio.
What were your earliest memories of LA and how’s your perception of the city changed since growing older?
My earliest memories are of Zuma Beach, where I still go every week. It kinda hasn’t changed that much. The grocery store has a different name, but it feels the same. Also, Woodland Hills, where some of my formative years riding up-and-down Ventura Boulevard on my BMX in 1980 — kind of the same, Val Surf is gone, my karate studio is gone, but kinda feels the same.
When it comes to your collection in the house, what are some items that immediately come to mind?
This piece by Tadanori Yokoo. It’s just one of his old prints that are fairly hard to find. I got it in Japan at KOMIYAMA Books, where I always buy something. A lot of the time when you find these prints, they’re too expensive. I’m not that interested in collecting as a flex. It doesn’t have to cost a lot of money. I just want to love it…that’s it. So for me, any artwork, books or records I buy — to me, they’re like charged objects.
