In late 1956, medical-school dropout Walter Hopps met artist Ed Kienholz for lunch at a hot dog stand on La Cienega Boulevard. The two drafted a contract on a hot dog wrapper that stated simply, “We will be partners in art for five years.” And with that, the Ferus Gallery was born.

Operating out of a small storefront, the gallery hosted debut exhibitions and served as a general launching point for Ed Kienholz, Ed Ruscha, Craig Kauffman, Wallace Berman, Ed Moses and Robert Irwin, among many other artists. By the time it closed in 1966, the gallery had also played a role in solidifying the careers of many of New York’s brightest talents, including Roy Lichtenstein, Andy Warhol, Donald Judd, Frank Stella, Robert Rauschenberg and Jasper Johns.

First under the leadership of genius autodidact Walter Hopps, then the smooth-as-silk Irving Blum, Ferus groomed the Los Angeles art world from a loose band of idealistic beatniks into a coterie of competitive, often brilliant artists. What was lost and what was gained was tied up in a complicated web of egos, passions, money, interpersonal relationships and artistic statements.

The gallery’s eventual success came at a cost. The closing of Ferus, just as it was finally becoming financially solvent, is indicative of the volatile and complex relationship money invariably has with art. But while Ferus had a polarizing effect on artists, ideas and art, the gallery managed to do for art in Los Angeles what the museums previously could not. Even though their modalities were as disparate as assemblage art, abstract expressionism and Pop, Ferus artists shared ideas, goals, workspaces and a lasting vision.