вЂњIt had one foot in the world of cartooning,вЂќ he explained, speaking slowly and lingering over a word now and then, as though to savor its quiddity. He chose commonplace, one-syllable words that had what he described as вЂњa certain comedic value.вЂќ вЂњOofвЂќ was different-onomatopoeic, for one thing, and funnier. Also, a brand of work clothes.вЂќ вЂњBossвЂќ appeared in 1961, black letters on a dark-brown background, and was followed, during the next three years, by вЂњHonk,вЂќ вЂњSmash,вЂќ вЂњNoise,вЂќ вЂњOof,вЂќ вЂњWonвЂ™t,вЂќ and other word paintings. вЂњThat was a powerful word to me, and it meant various things-an employer, and a term for something cool. вЂњI would settle on a word like вЂboss,вЂ™ вЂќ he said.

Los Angeles was having a cold snap, the heat wasnвЂ™t working, and Ruscha had lent me a heavy-duty parka to wear. We were sitting in the library and office space of his immense, warehouse-like studio in Culver City, which he moved into two years ago. Ruscha, at seventy-five, is lean and fit, and his natural reserve is offset by an easygoing friendliness. вЂњIt was so simple, and something I could commit to,вЂќ he said last winter, when I visited him in Los Angeles. One showed a can of Spam rocketing through space in another, a real box of Sun-Maid raisins was flattened on a canvas, above the partly painted-over place name вЂњVicksburg.вЂќ Very soon, he zeroed in on the Johnsian notion of painting words. He made a few Johns-influenced paintings. He decided that whatever he was going to do in art would have to be вЂњ completely premeditated.вЂќ Ruscha had seen, reproduced in the magazine Print, a Jasper Johns collage painting called вЂњTarget with Four Faces,вЂќ and it had opened up a new range of possibilities. вЂњThey would say, Face the canvas and let it happen, follow your own gestures, let the painting create itself,вЂќ he later recalled in an interview, but that didnвЂ™t pan out for him. He had vetoed the spontaneous, loose-elbow, Abstract Expressionist style that still prevailed at the Chouinard Art Institute, where he studied in the late nineteen-fifties, shortly before it became the California Institute of the Arts (CalArts). Ruscha (pronounced Ru- SHAY) was twenty-six when he painted it, in 1963, three years out of art school, living in Los Angeles, and already hitting his stride. Everything is right there, every time, and it never fails to make me feel good.

This is not the kind of picture that reveals hidden depths on subsequent viewings. вЂњOofвЂќ outdoes them all in its immediate, antic impact. The six-foot-square canvas currently hangs in Gallery 19, on the fourth floor, along with Roy LichtensteinвЂ™s вЂњGirl with Ball,вЂќ Andy WarholвЂ™s вЂњGold Marilyn MonroeвЂќ and вЂњOrange Car Crash Fourteen Times,вЂќ and other Pop Art trailblazers of the early nineteen-sixties. The title and the subject are identical, just those three block letters, each one bigger than your head, in cadmium yellow on a background of cobalt blue. If you need cheering up, go to the Museum of Modern Art and look at a painting called вЂњOof,вЂќ by Edward Ruscha.

Ruscha moca museum poster 1990