Jolino Beserra: Unspoken goodbyes, and coming full circle...

It was April 11, 2024, when I last saw my friends David Edward Byrd and his husband Jolino Beserra at their home in Los Angeles. They were moving to New Mexico the next day, after living in California since 1981.

While I was happy to wish them off into the new chapter in their lives, the goodbye was obviously bittersweet. David, who had just celebrated his 83^rd birthday, was in ailing health, and as we hugged, we both suspected it could be the last time we would ever see each other.

I stayed in regular contact with them, of course, and even bought a plane ticket to visit them the weekend after Christmas that year. But it was not to be. David was hospitalized two days before my flight, and on April 4, 2025, he passed away.

Last week, during my spring break from teaching, I reunited with Jolino in Albuquerque. Seeing him initially felt like no time had passed at all…but when I entered the home he’d shared with David, his husband’s absence loomed large.

I’ve always considered Jolino a close friend. We had talked all the time, both independently and in David’s company, for the better part of twenty years. But it dawned on us that most of our conversations and interactions were centered on either David, or the challenges of the Amsel documentary and book. Now, it was just us.

Because I’ve known Jolino since the beginning (rather, before the beginning), one might wonder why it took me so long to finally get around to interviewing him. There was always a whirlwind of conflicting work schedules, then came the Covid lockdown, then David’s declining health, then the financial need for them to relocate, then the logistics of moving – distractions and distractions and distractions.

Now that the time for filming the interview had finally come, I was rather surprised by some of the revelations Jolino disclosed. Some of these I’m saving for the film, while others I’ll share here.

Jolino first met Richard Amsel upon his move to Los Angeles in the first half of 1985. (The exact month we’re still not quite sure; some believed it was in June, but from Jolino’s account, it would have been earlier that Spring.) Amsel moved into an apartment on 7250 Franklin Ave., and Jolino was with him when, in search of furnishings, Amsel simply looked at a stateroom of white linen 80’s deco décor and said, “I’ll take it.”  

Jolino also had the rare privilege of assisting Amsel on his poster for MAD MAX: BEYOND THUNDERDOME. “I was his gopher,” he said, helping Amsel by buying and prepping art supplies, and even doing some of the Prismacolor pencilwork on Tina Turner’s hair. Though he now works primarily in mosaics, Jolino was an aspiring illustrator, and the opportunity to work with one of his creative heroes was a remarkable experience.

But our interview addressed other, more personal and startling topics – namely, how Amsel’s arrival in Los Angeles marked a new, albeit frustrating chapter in the artist’s life.

“He was getting a reputation for being difficult,” Jolino said, and Amsel faced mounting pressure to reinvent himself. It’s not that he acted irresponsibly or was unreliable; it’s that he was stubborn. Amsel’s fervent need to follow his own creative instincts, rather than acquiesce to the whims of corporate suits, had cost him a number of prominent jobs. It didn’t help that the demand for illustration was also rapidly diminishing. And other artists (Jolino specifically mentioned Drew Struzan and Steve Chorney) were known for being more creatively amenable and cooperative.

Jolino also shared how Amsel, who was characteristically softspoken and mild-mannered, nevertheless had the capacity to lose his temper, though his frustrations were only confided to close friends. Movie studio marketing heads confounded him. Disingenuous and shallow people enraged him. Sycophants, opportunists – Amsel had no head for them, yet he lacked the skills in knowing how to play the game, or put on a brave, beguiling face. And he paid a price for it.

Jolino recalls Amsel’s abrupt return to New York later that autumn, as his health took a sudden turn for the worse. He did not have the chance to say goodbye.

Nor did either of us when David Byrd passed away last year. It’s for them that, come hell or high water, I’m seeing the documentary and book through to their end.