Gil Garcetti: A Life
with the Public Eye
Gil Garcetti, Photographer
by Jeremy Shawn Pollack

Listen to the Interview

It’s a beautiful Thursday afternoon in the Brentwood hills, peaceful and quiet as though I’m no longer in L.A. The Southwest-style clubhouse of the Riviera Country Club stands gallant and vast, like the home of a Columbian drug lord, and I’m here for the quarterly luncheon of the Saint John’s Retired Physician’s Association. In spite of my shadowy past as an amateur surgeon and street pharmacist, I am in fact here to interview the former Los Angeles District Attorney and now prominent photographer Gil Garcetti, who is today’s main speaker. But I’m sweating in the sun while taking these notes and must move toward the clubhouse. Suddenly, I wonder if there’s a no-denim policy here, as is customary among country clubs. I’m wearing blue jeans. The sign just outside the main entrance reads Proper Attire Required… Not sure exactly what that means.

Photography by Bona Hong

Upon entering and finding the conference area, I’m thoroughly surprised and certainly under-dressed—I’m the only one under sixty years-old and not wearing a suit. The gathering looks like a small Bar Mitzvah, for a kid that has no friends—only old relatives: full spread, waiters in tuxedos, and elderly gentleman in blazers. I did not plan on this.

And then I see Gil, the only other man not adorned in jacket and tie, and I feel slightly more at ease. Clad in a cherry red sweater and black corduroys, he’s smiling and warmly welcomes me in, laughing: “Look at us! I think we’re underdressed.” I feel better upon his lightheartedness, though of course, he looks much less like he just rolled out of bed than I. Gil is a spark—the guy glows. He reminds me of a chiseled statue, colored and come to life, with vibrant eyes and high cheek bones. His crisp white hair and large smile make him extremely charismatic, quite a presence and certainly the center of attention in this room. The artist has come to life in a character I wouldn’t expect from the former District Attorney of Los Angeles. Gil is a celebrated photographer now, but it’s clear in his confident grin that he can still hold his own in the high-society crowd of politicians, celebrities, and in this case, physicians.

Photography by Bona Hong

He sits down for just a few minutes with me privately while the members of the organization are still trickling in, explaining more about the reason for today’s presentation. Today he’ll be talking about Water is Key, one of his more recent books of photography, which casts light on an initiative he is heavily invested in: Clean Water in West Africa. He tells me just a bit about the horrible diseases—blindness, Guinea Worm, infection—as well as a string of other problems stemming from the lack of safe water in the small villages of West Africa. I’m enthralled listening to his story about the problems and ultimately the solutions that he is trying to convey with this photographic work.

The most significant point is that the water needed already exists! But the poverty-stricken African governments do not have the resources, knowledge, or organization to drill into the ground to access the water. Gil now works with a Nonprofit and a Non-Governmental Organization (NGO) that can and does drill these wells. For only $12,000, he tells me, a well leading to safe water can be built in a village, which will provide for the entire township—500 to 1000 people—for several generations. And the non-profit he works with (WellsBringHope.org) will match funds. Hence, a donation of $6000 can provide water for an entire village, which prevents disease, improves education for females (since they won’t have to spend the entire day fetching water from a distant and dirty watering hole), provides for agriculture, jobs, latrines, and thus generally sustains life for thousands of people over several decades. Six-thousand-dollars!! I’m floored. He smiles, understanding my reaction, as was his when he first learned of the situation. And this is the reason for his exhibition today. The doctors have invited him…well, because they always invite someone of note to address their luncheons. But Gil has come with a mission, to raise a few eyebrows and perhaps a few dollars in support of the cause. At the very least, to make some book sales, as all proceeds from his book go directly to the mission. But he smiles and proclaims under his breath, “It might be tough. Doctor’s are like lawyers—we both tend to be cheap.” We both chuckle.

Photography by Bona Hong

We are all invited into the foyer then to have a go at the lunch spread. The wait staff looks at me as though I must be crashing, or perhaps I’ve made a mistake, a wrong turn off Sunset Boulevard. But I haven’t—I’m in the right place, leather-metal bracelet, worn Hush Puppies, and blue jeans. Though, just as I’m picking up a plate to delve into the fruit, I feel a tap on my shoulder… “Excuse me, sir,” a woman says from behind me, “you can’t wear jeans in the clubhouse.” Thus begins a 20-minute fiasco of my trying to negotiate an exception in this case, since I’m covering a story, followed by a stern refusal from the manager and his insistence that I wear a pair of non-denim pant wear they happen to have in the office—remnants of the lost & found, I’m sure. After trying on several pairs, I finally find one that fits—an ugly, deep blue, sweat-like material that appears shamefully worse than the jeans with which I started. The manager agrees that they look absurd—now I truly appear to have rolled out of bed—and yet he can’t seem to break the rules. I don’t understand this at all. But…rules are rules…I guess.

Photography by Bona Hong