Enoch Bolles, not your typical pinup artist

Yesterday I had the pleasure of hosting Enoch's grandson Rick at my home. We spent the evening talking about the life and work of Enoch Bolles while we pored over over magazines, letters and other documents I've acquired over the past decade. It was a thrill to hear Rick describe sitting at Enoch's side watching him paint and their discussions that covered everything from classical music to scientific advances. For the span of a few hours I had a direct connection to Enoch Bolles, born nearly 130 years ago! Our time together also reminded me of why I've persisted with this project for so long. For as much as it was his dazzling art that started me on this journey, it is my admiration for him as a person that has led me to continue.
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Yes, Enoch Bolles is not your typical pinup artist. While many of his artistic peers were hanging out at the Salmagundi Club or more notoriously, the Paradise (with the showgirls who were moonlighting as their models!) Enoch was more likely to be toiling late at his studio before he took the train home to be with his wife and six children. In his older years he was the beloved family patriarch who had a special affinity for the youngest members of his clan and who enjoyed painting their portraits. There's a lot more that I could add but instead I'll leave you with this photo of Enoch reading to his granddaughters. It tells the story better than I can.

My Journey Begins

Enoch Bolles, 1915

A year after he

published his first

cover for Judge.

After I caught the Bolles bug I begain prowling the Internet and other databases to dig up more about him. I could locate nothing of fact, and this was a time when his peers commanded the public's attention far beyond that of all but the greatest film stars. What little I could find was rife with was sensationalism and rumor. Did he horrifically deface his paintings and die in alone in a sanitarium? Or had a stroke stripped Bolles of his artistic powers at the very moment that pinup art had become a genre unto itself.

I spent the next year year digging in old newspapers, government databases and genealogical records until I finally struck pay dirt. A phone call later and I was on the line with his 88 year old daughter, Theresa. And so began a new a new chapter in my journey to uncover the truth about his life and work.