FOLK-ART SITE UNDER FIRE; CRITICS ARGUE SIMI VALLEY'S BOTTLE VILLAGE NOT WORTHY OF PUBLIC FUNDS.

Byline: Lisa Mascaro Daily News Staff Writer

If ever there was a message in a bottle, it's at Tressa ``Grandma'' Prisbrey's Bottle Village in Simi Valley.

There, thousands upon thousands of bottles form walls that form buildings that form what some call one of the nation's great pieces of original folk art and others call a trash heap destined to go back to whence it came: the city dump.

It's a murky message that like the bottles themselves has only grown cloudier over the years.

``The place is kind of interesting,'' said Simi Valley City Councilwoman Sandi Webb, who was among those fighting under the slogan ``Bulldoze Bottle Village'' last year. ``Now, some of it, I also find kind of disgusting.''

Webb's petition campaign was part of a fierce battle over federal funds that started when a support group won a nearly $500,000 grant to repair the village following the 1994 Northridge Earthquake and ended last year when the area's congressional representative had the money taken away.

Now, the group Support Bottle Village, whose far-flung members keep in touch across three counties, is working to save the site without the hefty Federal Emergency Management Agency grant that slipped from its grasp last year.

``We've had some very good things happen that would have happened sooner if we weren't battling FEMA for three years,'' said Daniel Paul, a committee member of Support Bottle Village.

Among those have been a $1,700 grant this summer from Simi Valley for a fund-raising consultant, a small grant from the Ventura County Arts Council and about $500 from a wine-and-cheese fund-raiser put on by a Santa Monica committee member.

Plus, talks are in the works for more sizable donations through grants, and Simi Valley City Councilwoman Barbara Williamson is working to secure funds possibly from developers doing business with the city. The Los Angeles Conservancy is lending support, and the Ventura County Arts Council is considering placing Bottle Village high on a coming promotional list of county cultural sites for tourists.

Help won't come too soon - the site faces $11,000 in back taxes, due in January, and $1 million in delayed repairs.

``I'm going to try to get some money for them,'' said Williamson, herself hardly a fan of the village. ``Is it my cup of tea? Absolutely not. Is it somebody else's? Yes it is.''

Art from the dump

Prisbrey started building Bottle Village in the mid-1950s, well after her seven children had grown and well into her senior years.

Her daily drives in her Studebaker truck to the city dump became legend, as did the bottle houses, wishing wells, cabana and rumpus room that were among the dozen structures built on the site that drew visitors near and far.

Moorpark College professor John Grzywacz-Gray was a young man looking for an affordable home in Simi Valley when he took a wrong turn in 1969 and stumbled upon Bottle Village.

``Suddenly this thing was in front of me,'' he said, recalling how he took a tour with Prisbrey, who fed him a half-sandwich for lunch. ``I became hooked on the place.''

The college professor was among the early fans of Bottle Village, those who won a $25,000 grant from the city in the 1970s to fix up the place, and who have tried to explain time and again the treasure they see in the trash.

``I think the problem with Bottle Village is really simple: People don't understand what folk art is,'' he said. ``I'm sure one of these days, someone will recognize the importance of it.''

The Cochran Street site is one of a handful of folk art environments, along with the Watts Towers, listed as national historic sites.

Nearly the entire western side of the one-third acre site, about half the buildings, are toppled from the 1994 earthquake, and the remainder sit in varying stages of disrepair. The facility is closed to the public, red-tagged by building officials because of safety issues.

Still, outside the padlocked gate hang two plaques, one from the county and another from the state, listing Bottle Village as a historic place.

Misunderstood genre

While the folk art movement has blossomed in recent years - with national museums hosting folk art shows, buyers gobbling up whimsical pieces and little known artists being introduced to the art world - the genre remains outside the realm of art in the eyes of many.

Gerard C. Wertkin, director of the Museum of American Folk Art in New York, said environments like Bottle Village have difficulty holding up, due to both unsound building methods and scrutiny from the community.

``These eccentric environments often pose a problem,'' Wertkin said.

Some sites, he said, are able to be preserved as museumlike exhibits with backing from the community, others find bits and pieces of the structures making their way to museums, while others simply wither away from neglect.

``Very rarely do the communities understand what the artist is trying to accomplish. Very often they're seen as eyesores,'' he said. ``Seeing dolls set up on sticks in that way is a little weird, there's no question,'' he said about the planter at the front of the property, full of dolls that look like they're growing on stems. But, he added, like all art, there are other ways to look at it.

Paul, who knows all too well the battles waged for the Simi Valley landmark from his Anaheim home, agrees.

``She is the extreme example of American independence, using her resources to make something out of nothing and doing it her way,'' Paul said. ``It really is a family values art piece.''

That is not what Rep. Elton Gallegly, R-Oxnard, saw when he took his young children to visit Bottle Village in the 1970s and when he worked to pull the FEMA funds from the site last year.

``It has been an eyesore, it has been a rat-infested rathole for a long time,'' said Gallegly, whose real estate offices used to be down the street from the site. ``If they're taking taxpayer money to do more out there, I will do what I can to see that it won't be done.''

Gallegly said he befriended Prisbrey when he worked in the area, but wasn't friendly with her art - or her supporters, who he sees as an out-of-the-area group relying on public funds. He questioned why the group that received $25,000 from the city when he served on the council - and with his support - hasn't been able to raise matching funds from the community. And he suggested they secure private funds or be prepared to face his opposition.

``It appears to be without question the only rallying we've found in support of Bottle Village was in support for generating public funds,'' he said. ``So I will be the bad guy again.''

Crumbling cultural icon

Janice Willson stoops over the heart-shaped planter that is growing blue bottles on sticks at Bottle Village to pull the weeds, then shows off what's left of Bottle Village.

The Pencil House that once held thousands of pencils Prisbrey collected stands in need of repair. The round house is among the most sturdy. The mosaic walkway is still filled with everything from sunglasses to chipped pottery that Prisbrey plunked along the path.

The kittens Prisbrey would dye with food coloring are no longer seen on the site. But the silver Royal Spartan trailer, Prisbrey's home in earlier days and a visitor center during the site's operative years, is still in place.

Prisbrey left the site in 1983 to be nearer her daughter in San Francisco, where she died in 1988 at 92.

The county Arts Commission is hopeful that with board members' support and stronger administration the site can be renewed. Also optimistic is Willson, the resident caretaker, who has kept an eye on the site for the past seven years, and new board member Francy Rehwald, who hosted the fund-raiser near her Santa Monica home.

``Here is a culture icon that is crumbling,'' Rehwald said. ``We just have to keep trying.''

CAPTION(S):

2 Photos

PHOTO (1) Pictured in 1977, Tressa ``Grandma'' Prisbrey began Bottle Village in the mid-1950s.

Thomas Lane

(2) Janice Willson is one of many supporters hoping to preserve Prisbrey's eccentric creation in Simi Valley.

Gene Blevins/Special to the Daily News