Kevin Cooley

I know it's not a phoenix, but I think metaphor still works. #eatonfire #palisadesfire #lafires #peacock

Spring flowers have emerged in Altadena, a nice reminder that life finds a way. #eatonfire #altadena #regeneration #lafires #losangeles

My MacBook Pro, found in my studio flat file after the Eaton Fire. I’d tried several times to open it, hoping something inside might have survived. But it wasn’t until March, when a volunteer crew from @samaritanspurse came to help, that I was finally able to get it open. Discovering the laptop—melted, but instantly recognizable—was a shock. But finding it, along with a few other items inside, was also strangely motivating. It stirred something in me, reigniting my will to document the aftermath. #eatonfire #apple #macbookpro #altadena

I’ll be giving a few lectures in New York City this month, including one open to the public @svamfaphotovideo April 21 at 6:30pm. Please join if you can. Link in bio. Fire has long been both a subject and a force in Kevin Cooley’s work, something he has observed, documented, and at times orchestrated. But after losing his home and studio in the Eaton Fire, it ceased to be an artistic inquiry and became lived experience. In this talk, Cooley traces the path that led to The Wizard of Awe, beginning with his relationship with fireworks maker Ken Miller, whose life was shaped by fire in ways both mesmerizing and catastrophic. Now, in the aftermath of his own loss, Cooley revisits these themes from within. What does it mean to document destruction when you are no longer separate from it? How does an artist engage with disaster without being consumed by it? Cooley will discuss the unintended consequences of his work with Miller, the burden of witnessing, and the ways photography, storytelling, and personal loss intersect. BTS photo of Anderson Cooper 360 by @aaron_giesel

Another #spacex launch over Altadena last night.

Ponytail Palm, Athens Street is part of Post-Fire 1, a powerful exhibition of new work by artists affected by the 2025 LA fires, currently on view @6006_arts through June 1, 2026. 6006 Washington Blvd Culver City Open Wed–Sun, 1–6pm All proceeds from sales will go to the artists, with Des Artistes taking no sales commission. Post-Fire 1 runs for 10 weeks, through June 1, 2026. The exhibition will be @eddieaparicio @citizenbong @maurabrewer @jamisonhcarter @evanschambersobjects @kevincooley_ @kenturah @eberharb @margaretrossgriffith @olivia_hill_studio @knuthstudio @alice_konitz_studio @tkellymason @ana_paints @therealadamrossaltadena @razinkovy_nos @business__risky @rosssimonini @vikingstreet @camillataylor @dianathaterstudio @themelancholyspring @6006_arts #des-artistes #postfire1 #postfireseries #altadena #eatonfirerelief

#postfire1 #eddieaparicio #vikingstreet #kevincooley #margaretgriffith 6006 Washington Blvd opening tonight 🙌

Please join us next Friday March 13th from 6-9pm for Post-Fire 1, the inaugural show at Des Artistes. One year after the devastating Eaton and Palisades fires, 22 artists reflect and forge a new way forward. Post-Fire 1 is the first installment of an annual group show, planned for the next 4 years at 6006 Washington Blvd in Culver City. The intent of the Post-Fire series is to showcase and support artists who have experienced the traumatic loss of homes and studios. All proceeds from sales will go to the artists, with Des Artistes taking no sales commission. Post-Fire 1 runs for 10 weeks, through June 1, 2026. The exhibition will be open Wednesday - Sunday 1-6pm. @eddieaparicio @citizenbong @maurabrewer @jamisonhcarter @evanschambersobjects @kevincooley_ @kenturah @eberharb @margaretrossgriffith @olivia_hill_studio @knuthstudio @alice_konitz_studio @tkellymason @ana_paints @therealadamrossaltadena @razinkovy_nos @business__risky @rosssimonini @vikingstreet @camillataylor @dianathaterstudio @themelancholyspring @6006_arts #des-artistes #postfire1 #postfireseries #altadena

Last night in Altadena

Last year in May, we featured a book by Kevin Cooley (@kevincooley_ ), The Wizard of Awe, published by The Eriskay Connection. Today, we feature the photographs he has made over the past year, alongside an essay reflecting on the anniversary of the LA fires, and what it means to make art before, during and after that experience. In these photographs, Cooley finds a haunting beauty in what struggles to survive. Ash, scarred ground, and altered vistas speak to endurance rather than erasure. As the land and its community move from loss toward recovery, his images mark a moment of transition—when the damage is still visible, but the possibility of renewal has begun.

On the anniversary of the fires, editors at a national newspaper asked me to write an Op-Ed about In the Gardens of Eaton, the work I’ve been making in Altadena. It didn’t run, but writing it became its own kind of reckoning. I’m sharing the piece here, alongside a small selection of images. One year ago, I stood in my driveway and watched my house burn to the ground in the Eaton Fire. As a veteran fire photographer, the scene itself was not new. I had spent much of the past decade photographing wildfires, destruction, controlled burns, smoke, and explosions. My mother and uncle lost their childhood home in the Bel Air Fire and still talk about it often. On the day of the fire, I was in the Palisades photographing what I believed was the worst fire I would ever see. None of that prepared me for the moment when my home, my studio, and years of accumulated life were erased in minutes. My family moved to Altadena to get away from extreme wildfire danger. Our previous home came dangerously close to burning in the La Tuna Fire—yards, not miles. My wife Bridget noted we would be two urbanized miles from the chaparral—miles that would have to burn before a fire could reach us. Like many of the 14 million Californians a CalMatters analysis said live in the Wildland–Urban Interface, I lived with a suspension of disbelief. Even as we evacuated, I believed we’d be home in a few days. In the aftermath, I turned to the only tool I trusted. Photography has always helped me understand systems larger than myself. This time, it became a way to understand time. Disaster doesn’t end when the flames are out—it reshapes communities through duration. The landscape spoke first: flowers emerging through ash, green shoots piercing debris, grass reclaiming scorched yards. Later, I began photographing people living in temporary conditions on their own lots—the human equivalents of that resilient flora. What struck me most was not despair, but persistence. Resilience suggests a return to form. What I witnessed instead was transformation under constraint. Altadena will not be the same place—and that may be the hardest truth to accept. Yet it remains a place I want to be. #eatonfire

Big thanks to @alinesmithson and @lenscratch for including The Wizard of Awe in their best of 2025 list. If you haven't got your copy yet, they are still available from @eriskayconnection @thesedays.la @parklifesf @laneycontemporary and bookstores worldwide.