The old guard arts scene in Baltimore lost an important member this spring with the death of Anita Novak Klein, a longtime MICA employee whose primary medium was fabric. She was also known for whimsical paintings of chickens and cats which adorned the shelves and cupboards and kitchen drawers of he r home above Lake Montebello. Antia was the widow of wood scavenger and cabinet maker David H. Klein, who passed away at 71 in 2014. She died in her sleep sometime during the night between April 7th and 8th, just shy of her 83rd birthday. Together the couple collected outsider art before it was widely fashionable and turned their Lake Avenue home, built in 1919, into a place of warmth, color and whimsy. A favorite artist was the “The Baltimore Glassman” – a retired Bethlehem Steel machinist named Paul Darmafall (1925–2003) who used house paint to affix shattered glass and glitter to boards. Darmafall worked by the side of the road and either gave his art away or traded it for a cup of coffee and a bite to eat. Some of his pieces are in the permanent collection of the American Visionary Art Museum on Key Highway. A few were held by the Kleins. “One year,” said longtime friend, the sculptor David Hess, “Dave had the Glassman make a Valentine’s Day piece for Anita.” Another piece the couple owned – “Lou’s Barbershop” spelled out in beer bottle glass above a long black snake –  was exceptionally special to Anita; so much so that she said she’d rather be buried with it than sell it. Neither eventuality came to pass as she was cremated, her ashes scattered around the Mayfield neighborhood where she lived for the past 50 years. An on-line auction will take place to disperse other treasures she and David made and collected. “Anita made me a couple of vests she made out of felt and some really cool stick pins. She also grew gourds and made birdhouses out of them,” said Marie Cooke Shapiro, a friend of many years who organized a memorial party for Anita in Clipper Mill. “She also made hats and voodoo dolls out of fabric and put on an annual craft show called Out of Hand.”           At her memorial, friends and family took turns telling Anita stories by turns funny, fantastic and sad. At any moment she could get a little out-of-hand herself, often in dealing with the shenanigans of her mischievous man-child husband who was one toke over the line just about every day. The young Anita Kovak The Kleins were married for half-a-century – from 1964 when she was 21 until David’s death in 2014 – and it was impossible to think of one without calling to mind the other. “They were like Ralph and Alice on the Honeymooners,” said Hess, referencing the old Jackie Gleason TV show. “It could be intense – a lot of yelling and poking with a little sweetness mixed in. That was their love language.” “Anita was like an egg,” said John Seay, a Lake Avenue neighbor who moved in the year David died. “Tough shell but soft on the inside.” How tough? Once Seay, intrigued by the couple’s front-yard English garden and its bright wildflowers, stopped by to take pictures. Anita came out and confronted him: “What do you think you’re doing?” With that a friendship began. When a contractor installed a plain white door on Seay’s garage, “I asked her to give it the kind of avant-garde American feel her house had.” Anita painted it with sunflowers and cats, as flowers and felines (whether hers, strays or someone else’s) were a constant in her life and work. “She wouldn’t let us pay her so we took her to dinner in Little Italy instead,” he said. For a while she was obsessed with painting bugs and beetles, a print of which hung on the kitchen door leading to the basement.  With no children of their own, the Kleins doted on those of their friends and obsessively cared for generations of cats. Her last pet, Tinka, was named for a childhood friend she met when her father was stationed in Germany. She made stuffed animals to give to the little ones in her orbit and built outdoor shelters in the backyard so strays wouldn’t freeze in the winter. Younger generations found Anita and David to be the coolest of cats. “I always wanted to be cool like them, but I knew I never would be,” said Vicky Udell, a cousin on the paternal Czech side of Anita’s family. “I’m old now and I’m still not that cool.” Greeting each day with bright red lipstick, Anita dressed as colorfully as her paintings and spoke her mind with the grace of an anvil. Said local illustrator Ann Feild at the memorial, “You never wanted to ask her ‘How do I look’ because she’d tell you straight.” The family breadwinner Born in Carlsbad, New Mexico on May 21, 1943, Anita was the oldest of four children born to Frank Novak, a 20-year Army veteran who worked in aerial intelligence and the former Lena Chiaramonte, daughter of Italian immigrants. Anita’s mother grew up in West Baltimore and worked for Hutzler’s. Her siblings included an adored brother, Frank Joseph Novak, who died of lung cancer in Anchorage, Alaska in 2006; followed by Christine Novak of Monterey, Massachusetts and Kim Novak of Delmar, Delaware, the baby. “I will miss my funny, creative, grouchy, and beautiful sister,” wrote Christine in an online obituary. “We shared every Christmas together and most recently a trip to Iceland. I will treasure those memories. It’s [the] end of a Baltimore era for me.” Throughout Anita’s childhood, the family followed Mr. Novak’s career before settling on Hillen Road in Northwood when Anita was 15. She graduated from old Eastern High School on 33rd street. No one was quite sure how she met David, only that – for better and worse – he came to define her life and she worked hard to stand outside of his shadow. “She made a ceramic bowl for me for my 50th birthday and made tiles painted with African masks and Indian kantha quilts,” said Christine, also noting “hats and funny gloves.” For a time Anita worked as a legal secretary and had a job at the Maryland Zoo in Druid Hill Park. She brought home signs from the zoo that were being replaced. Thus, if you were invited to have a drink in the backyard, would know: ELEPHANTS THIS WAY. At the Maryland Institute, Anita worked in administration for the School of Graphic design from 1990 to 2013, winning the school’s Douglas Frost Lifetime Achievement Award for her service. “An entire era of design at MICA was shaped by her kind spirit,” said Ellen Lupton, who holds the design chair at the school. The Frost honor came with a nice check, highlighting Anita’s role as the family breadwinner while David wandered the alleys of Crabtown for scraps of wood with several coats of peeling paint and lunched with friends. “She was the moneymaker in the family,” said Christine. Anita and David Klein on their wedding day in 1964 Lauren Quattro – a distant relative of rock bassist Suzi Quatro – was a caregiver to Anita in the last years of her neighbor’s life. It was at Lauren’s home on Lake Avenue that Anita enjoyed Easter Sunday dinner this year: filet mignon, dauphinose potatoes and candied carrots. It was likely the last full proper Anita had, dying sometime the night after. “Her skin was glowing and her hair was beautiful that day,” said Lauren. After Anita died, she went to her friend’s house just to sit on the couch where they enjoyed watching TV and bowls of Anita’s homemade cabbage soup. “She was  my good buddy,” said Lauren. “My good curmudgeon buddy.” And yet, said Christine, “She didn’t think anybody loved her. She was wrong.” Anita Klein celebrating a recent birthday. Mt. St. Joseph High School student Sebastion Bartolac contributed to this article. Alvarez, a ’76 graduate of St. Joe, can be reached via [email protected] ...read more read less