Armin Hansen (1886-1957)

“Men of the Sea” (1920)

Nearly six feet four and an imposing 250 pounds, Armin Carl Hansen was as powerful as his paintings.

When I was writing The Artist Colony, I happened to go to a retrospective of his work at Monterey's Museum of Art and was blown away by his dynamic use of color. It was obvious why he was one of the most famous California artists living in Monterey in the 1920s.  I knew then that I would give him a walkon part in my novel, but I didn't know then that one of his paintings would become a pivotal moment in the plot. That came into play in the 4th or 5th revision.

Here is an excerpt from when Sarah isfirst introduced to Armin Hansen by her friend Sirena:

“You know, Hansen’s a fisherman himself,” said Sirena, effortlessly switching topics. “He goes out with the Sicilian sardine fishermen. That’s what makes his marine paintings so realistic. There he is now,” she added, pointing toward a hefty-set man gesturing dramatically with his hands as he spoke to a group of admirers.

His sunbaked face was clean shaven except for an unruly moustache above a wide mouth, tilted upward in a perennial smile that dwarfed the small pipe he held in the corner of his lips. Like the robust fishermen he painted, he was a man who lived outdoors. His open tweed jacket, pullover sweater, and Scottish-tweed cap confirmed that fact. His clothes and looks were in sharp contrast to the fashionable suits with stiff shirt collars standing around him and looking at him as if he was Poseidon, the god of the sea.

Sarah felt as if a refreshing blast of salty air were coming from his direction in an otherwise stuffy room.