Richard Ellescas: A Meditation on Illustration and Gratitude
Yesterday, I released a new episode of the Sighs and Whispers podcast—a conversation with illustrator and artist Richard Ellescas. Below is an introduction to Dick—you can listen to our discussion on Soundcloud, Apple Podcasts, and Spotify.
If you’ve been reading or following my work for a while, it will be no surprise that I love illustrations and speaking with illustrators. For the Sighs and Whispers podcast, I’ve previously interviewed illustrators Barry Zaid, Emanuel Schongut, Barbara Nessim, David Lance Goines, Sandy Dvore, Mel Odom, and the estate of Richard Bernstein. One illustrator whose work I continually returned to and hoped to speak with was Richard Ellescas. I first came across Dick’s illustrations in mid-1970s issues of Cosmopolitan—vibrantly colored, often sexually charged drawings of beautiful men and women, swirled together in a skillful mixture of Art Deco, Art Nouveau, and psychedelic art. As Helen Gurley Brown described in one of her editor’s letters, “Los Angeles’ Dick Ellescas specializes in glamorous women, brilliant color – and we gasp (pleasurably) when his work arrives at the office.”
Over fifteen years, I scanned and saved every one of his Cosmo illustrations, then began looking for more of his work—turning up dozens of album covers primarily for Angel’s classical and opera releases, movie posters, and a tiny poetry book (which I’ve featured in its entirety before)—but when I went looking for information on him as a person and an artist, I found almost nothing. Even deeper searches through newspaper archives revealed little more. Finally, in 2023, I mailed a letter to an address I had found, unsure if it was the correct person or what condition he might be in. I was overjoyed when he called me a week later, inviting me to visit him the next time I was in Los Angeles. In May 2023, I visited the then 86-year-old artist at his small bungalow. He met me at the door with a graphic color field painting he had made for me. With his artwork covering almost every surface, Dick was still painting daily, still doing what he loved, and was filled with so much gratitude.
Richard Ellescas was born in San Pedro, California, in 1937, to a Filipino father and Chinese-Native American mother. As he reveals in our conversation, he learned about art from looking at illustrations in magazines. Through faithfully copying them, he found himself and his innate talent. A series of helpful people recognized that skill and helped him, leading him towards art school and a very fulfilling career. He met his wife, fashion illustrator Judy Woodruff, in art school. Along the way, he painted murals and worked on film titles for the US Army, painted title sequences for famous Hollywood movies, taught at Art Center College of Design, was the artist behind Barbie for 18 years, and cultivated a very successful freelance illustration career.
Dick spoke very openly and honestly about many areas of his life—his difficult father, his caring mother, his gratitude for everyone who helped along the way, his wish for children, even his time in hospice with cancer and AIDS. One thing we didn’t touch on, and which I didn’t pry, was his sexual orientation. Though married, Dick had AIDS and, I know from obituaries, a long relationship with movie producer Neil Hartley, whom he called his “best buddy” when we spoke. It was obvious that Dick deeply loved both Judy and Neil and stood by both of them until their deaths.
It was so wonderful to meet him and to learn more about his life and work. Unfortunately, due to my pre-and-postpartum depression, I was unable to get this interview out earlier, and Dick passed away in 2025. I’m filled with immense sadness that I wasn’t able to get this out while he was still alive, but I’m grateful that I was able to meet with him and preserve his memories to share with you.
Throughout our conversation, Dick was filled with such gratitude for his life and everyone who helped him along the way; I found it very moving at the time, and even more so now, hearing him speak with such gratefulness. It was really emotional for me to re-listen to this interview in light of his passing. Due to his age, he repeated things, told wandering stories, and sometimes got muddled. As this is the only interview with him online, I decided to leave quite a bit of this in; while a tighter edit “sounded” better, it didn’t feel as true. I hope that you come away from listening to this with a real sense of Dick as a person and an artist, and an understanding of the times he grew up in and worked in.
On the podcast’s website, I’ve put together a slideshow of all of his work for Cosmopolitan; it’s too many images to share here, but, wow, are they gorgeous!
Below are some of the photographs I took in his home. At one point in our conversation, we discussed some of the art on the walls—I’ve labeled the pieces we spoke about.
Oh gosh I've loved his work, very excited to give this a listen. The portrait of his wife, my heart <3