Steve Logsdon has spent his career with the dinner plate as his artistic canvas—exquisite pasta, protein, greens, and other cuisine framed by knife, fork, and spoon.
He’s chef and owner of Lucca, a fine dining staple for 20 years in downtown Des Moines’ East Village. Logsdon is one of those ever-present, gracious hosts, continually chatting with and checking in on his diners.
I first met Logsdon 30 years ago when he and his brother, Joe (now owner of the equally excellent La Mie), opened Basil’s in the basement food court across Locust Street from the Des Moines Register newsroom. Their homemade pasta and pizza were staples of my midday diet.
Decades later, Logsdon is adopting a new artistic canvas—literal canvas, as a painter.
He’s setting aside the spatula long enough to occasionally pick up a brush.
Logsdon, who started working in restaurants at age 14 but also studied art history at Drake University, is belatedly launching his career as a painter of large minimalist canvases.
If you’ve dined lately at Lucca, no doubt you noticed his vibrant artworks towering high above the tables, anchored into the brick walls of the main-floor dining room—4-by-8-foot rectangles filled with bright and orderly geometric dabs of acrylic paint.
Climb the back stairs to the second floor, and the walls are lined with dozens more. Logsdon has produced more than 100 paintings in the last year and a half. They’re titled only with numbers.
He’s following in the vein of artists who inspired him as a student, including abstract expressionist Ad Reinhardt (1913-1967) and “father of minimalism” Frank Stella (1936-2024). His paintings don’t represent figures or forms. They don’t overtly comment on society or current topics. They’re meant to be pure expressions of color and craft.
Logsdon spoke of how Reinhardt would mix turpentine into his paint and let it set for a month to achieve a particular matte finish. Or how he sometimes dilutes his own acrylic with water for a more translucent color.
It almost sounded like he was obsessing over a recipe for pork ribeye with pico de gallo.
Logsdon humored my kitchen and canvas comparisons. Is blending colors in his paintings similar to how he might mingle flavors to sauté vegetables in a skillet?
Somewhat. The main allure for Logsdon is losing himself in the repetitive mechanics of painting to manifest his artistic vision. Whether food or paint, he likes how he’s directly responsible for what he creates and must rely on his judgement for which ingredients pair well.
His studio is modest: two long tables in his cozy Beaverdale garage where he spends hours painting at night. He works from the top to the bottom along the length of the canvas. He usually begins with white, layering on darker colors. The acrylic dries fast, so it’s easy to keep working. The repetition and rhythm of the craft entrance him. It’s the Zen of an artist. The relentless pursuit of consistency.
It sounds calming.
“I’m a very nervous person,” Logsdon said.
After a lifetime of selling entrees, Logsdon hosts the first showcase for his paintings on Saturday, Oct. 11, starting at 6 p.m. on Lucca’s second floor. One of his original works costs anywhere from hundreds to thousands of dollars.
But three paintings Saturday will be raffled off, and one will be auctioned.
Those who can’t make it to the event can always call or visit Lucca—Logsdon’s makeshift gallery for now.
At this point in his career, and given this belated pivot to embrace a different side of his creativity, which title does he prefer, I wondered? Chef? Artist? Restaurateur? Something else?
Chef is overstated, Logsdon said.
“We’re just cooks.”
At this point I guess he’s also just a painter.
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