Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s identity was well known to me — as a world-renowned poet, supporter of the Beats, member of the San Francisco Renaissance, owner of City Lights Bookstore and unwavering activist. But somehow his six decades of painting completely eluded me.
Painter, Poet & Pacifist at Santa Clara’s Triton Museum of Art is the first exhibition of Ferlinghetti’s artwork since his death in February 2021 at the age of 101. Knowledge of his many occupational titles, literary output, catalytic roles, challenges to the status quo and prestigious awards are a helpful primer. But that background isn’t totally necessary to view his art and witness his prevailing concerns for our humanity.
The exhibit encapsulates Ferlinghetti’s determination to empower others by yet another creative means, one that he pursued just as long as his better-known endeavors. In fact, he began painting in 1948 while studying at the Sorbonne, while he didn’t co-found City Lights until 1953.

As I step into the museum, Ferlinghetti greets me with warmth and good humor in a series of original black-and-white portraits by Christopher Felver. The 15 portraits, which span several decades, are mostly culled from Felver’s book Ferlinghetti Portrait (1998). As an owner of one of Ferlinghetti’s “Fuck Art Let’s Dance” buttons, I feel immediately pulled into Ferlinghetti’s inner circle when I see a photo of him wearing one with a furrowed brow and a slight smile.
Even before the exhibition begins, small Ferlinghetti paintings hanging in the museum’s lobby offer an introduction to his style of broad brushstrokes and text-based works. Washes of muddled colors, simply drawn faces and figures devoid of detail are accompanied by words that resemble poeticized vandalism. These works have all the qualities of the best street art — imagery entwined with slogans to get you to feel something — to do something! I can picture Art/Love: A Leisure Class Activity well suited to an alley in the Financial District.

One of the most surprising elements of Ferlinghetti’s artwork is its scale. WAR (1993), an eight-foot-tall oil painting, is the unequivocal focal point of the main gallery. Giant vulture wings in a downward trajectory span the top third of the painting; the bird holds a limp ash-gray torso in its blood-spattered beak.





