You hear that an art gallery is going to feature the paintings of Johnny Bach, and the first thought is Dobermans. It has to be Dobermans, Bach being the basketball Botticelli who helped turn opponents into still life with his Dobermans defense for the Bulls in the 1990s.
Then you think the Ace of Spades, the military symbol for killing the enemy that Bach sketched in the locker room before big games. The players laughed. They knew little of how much real death Bach had seen as part of the assault on Okinawa in World War II and as one of the first military occupiers of Nagasaki after the nuclear bombing.
At a remarkably robust 83, Bach is one of the few people alive to have witnessed the aftereffects of nuclear devastation.
“They were digging holes and burying bodies with bulldozers,” he recalls.
At the Sevan Gallery on West Main Street in Skokie on Friday and Saturday, 32 of Bach’s watercolor paintings will be shown and for sale. Most are gentle seascapes, but there are also portraits of Native American chiefs and dancers.
The art of Johnny Bach.
Part of the proceeds from the sales will go to one of the charities Bach supports, Have Dreams, which promotes sports participation for children with autism.
Bach has been painting seriously since a nearly fatal heart attack in 1995; he literally flatlined and was brought back. He has studied here under artists David Becker and Minas Gharibian.
“My teacher thought it was time to give a showing a try,” Bach said.
Johnny Bach may have been born 500 years too late. He has tried just about everything, never one to let darkness settle over a life of discovery, the portrait of a Renaissance man in a video age.
He played and coached in the NBA and played minor league baseball. He’s a decorated naval officer with a degree from an Ivy League school. He was one of the youngest college basketball coaches in the nation at a major university, a pilot and now a watercolor artist with his own premier show.
They said the basketball court was a canvas for Michael Jordan, the Michelangelo of the courts. If he could make basketball into art, why not an artist from basketball?
“I know there is an art to the game,” Bach said. “You see as a coach the spacing, the movement, the positioning, flow. In basketball, I’m impressed when I see team movement, spatial relationships.
“The artist also must stay with certain things: the values, the palette, the washes, where to bring the lighting, the colors, background. I was attracted to things I like. I painted ships and water. They said I had to get away, broaden and loosen up, get more rounded.
“I wish I had a better background about it. I wish I had studied when I was younger. I came to all this late in life.”
Yet one can hardly say Bach has wasted his life.
There was that war, and Bach never wondered for a second about giving up an NBA career. He played with the Boston Celtics for one season after he left the Navy in 1947 but by then had been away from playing for too long.
His father left for the Pacific in 1942 and didn’t return until after the war ended. His twin brother, Neil, was lost at sea in 1944. Johnny commissioned a painting of his brother’s Avenger aircraft for a wall in his Loop apartment.
“My brother was gung-ho to fly,” Bach said. “We all wanted to serve.”
When his fleet arrived in devastated Nagasaki, martial law was in effect. The Americans served as the local police force, maintaining order.
“The emperor said it was done, so there never were any real problems,” Bach said.
He’s technically retired now after leaving the Bulls last year but admits he has regrets. Despite his accomplishments and vast basketball knowledge, he sees himself as a victim of society’s tendency to judge by age rather than ability.
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“I am a little sorry I retired,” he said. “I would like to work for a team.”
Bach talked to several local college officials, all of whom agreed he’d be an asset to their basketball programs. But in a typical case of NCAA shortsightedness, rules stipulate he can work only full time, with recruiting responsibilities.
Bach may be 83, but he’s in remarkable shape, rising at 5:30 a.m. every day, working out at a local health club and walking extensively.
“I’m in good shape,” he said. “I’d like to do something in basketball. Even with smidgens of information I could help in small ways with a team. I don’t need the notoriety. But I still love to work with players.”
As for the ones he worked with most recently, Bach believes the Bulls will have a terrific season, but he wonders where it all will lead given his traditionalist philosophy.
“Scott really is a terrific coach,” Bach said of Bulls coach Scott Skiles, “but he doesn’t like the post game. He’ll flash guys in there, but he likes dribble penetration, pitch and pass.
“It is intriguing and what has taken over a lot of teams in the NBA. It has good spacing, teamwork, good passing. The crowd likes it, and the players like to play it.
“But the greatest penetration in basketball is the post pass. Suddenly, the ball is 5, 6, 10 feet from the basket. With penetration and pitch, you throw way across the floor, and while you get a good shot, it’s not 10 feet.
“Whether you had Tyson Chandler with his bad hands or Eddy Curry, you have to commit to it. Not many teams have succeeded without a true post game. Penetrate and pitch brings you close. But when you need a basket, teams go to a Tim Duncan or a Shaq. Can it get you all the way?”
That’s what the Bulls will be trying to achieve this season, and we’ll see. A good place to see some interesting creations will be these next few days in Skokie.
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