Joseph Teller

Joseph Teller, artist, father of magician

By Gayle Ronan Sims INQUIRER STAFF WRITER POSTED: July 28, 2004 Gesturing to the clutter in his Center City rowhouse basement accumulated over a lifetime, Joseph Teller told his son, "When I'm dead, all this will be yours."

Mr. Teller, 91, died of cardiac failure Friday at Cottages of Great Valley, an assisted-living facility in Henderson, Nev., near Las Vegas.

Now "all this" belongs to "the Kid," as Mr. Teller affectionately called his son, the mono-monikered Teller, the silent half of the comedy-magic act Penn & Teller.

"His sense of humor was strange and full of irony," Teller said yesterday. "In November, he said to me, 'I read the obituaries every day and I'm not there. Damn it!' "

In 2000, Teller the younger wrote "When I'm Dead All This Will Be Yours!" - a book recounting his father's first 50 years.

The book is a whimsical compilation of Mr. Teller's escapades as a hobo during the Depression; cartoons he drew of Philadelphia street life in the 1940s; vibrant color paintings; and the 68-year love story of Joe and Irene Teller.

The odyssey began when Mr. Teller was born in Brooklyn, N.Y., and moved to Center City Philadelphia as a youngster. When he was 16, he flunked a history test at Simon Gratz High School, said goodbye to school, and hit the road. He rode the rails from 1929 to 1933, working as a handyman while visiting all 48 states.

He wrote home every day, and his parents thought he was having a good time. Here is one of his letters published in the book:

"Dear Mom,

"No doubt you were wondering why I didn't come home Monday. Well, it was like this: I got a ride with a man into Washington D.C., so I might as well see as much as I can while I have the chance. I am not telling when I will get home, so please don't worry. I had a job on a farm for two days and made $2.50. I have $7.84 left.

"Your son,

"Sonny"

Mr. Teller came back to Philadelphia, finished high school, and studied art at what is now Fleischer Art Memorial. There, in 1936, he met Irene B. Derrickson, a Delaware farm girl and talented artist. He chatted her up on the trolley ride home and kept at it until they were married in 1939.

Mr. Teller worked as a commercial artist, and the couple settled in a Center City rowhouse, where they set up a studio. She painted elegant still lifes and he favored abstract works. Their home was jammed with examples of their work.

During World War II, Mr. Teller served in the Army as a communications officer working with prisoners of war in the Philippines.

When "The Kid" was born in 1948, the couple named him Raymond Joseph. But that didn't last: Teller legally changed his name, dropping Raymond Joseph, years ago.

When he was 88, Mr. Teller, who had been painting for 67 years, had his first and only show, at the Rosenfeld Gallery in Old City. When asked why it took him so long to have a show, Mr. Teller said, "I paint slow."

"He painted for all the right reasons. Not for money, not to please anyone else," gallery owner Richard Rosenfeld said yesterday. "He was a fearless painter."

Mr. Teller's paintings sold well, for $650 to $1,600 each.

As the couple aged, their sense of humor remained.

Consider this conversation between husband and wife, which their son related:

Irene: "I think I'm too old to go into a home."

Joe: "When one spouse dies, it's OK for the other to go into a home. It's all right then, not before."

Irene: "I'm dying first. Like it or lump it."

Joe: "Have it your way."

The couple moved to Nevada one year ago to be near their son. After cataract surgery, Mr. Teller could see colors he had not seen in years, his son said. He looked at his old paintings and said, "I've never seen that before."

Mr. Teller was a fan of Edgar Allan Poe. His last words were: "I'll be a ghost by midnight."

In addition to his son and wife, Mr. Teller is survived by a sister, Ethel Marcus.

Services will be private.

Notes only may be sent to Teller, 3555 W. Reno Ave., Suite L, Las Vegas, Nev. 89118.

Contact staff writer Gayle Ronan Sims at 215-854-4185 or gsims@phillynews.com.