William John Stanisich, December 29, 2025
William John Stanisich (Bill) 78, of San Francisco, died peacefully, on December 29, 2025, after a brief but complicated illness.
Born in Cheyenne, Wyoming, on March 15, 1947, Bill attended Yale University (1965-69), majoring in English Literature and History of Art. He studied with architecture historian Vincent Scully and Charles Talbot, the Northern Renaissance scholar. Bill graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree in History of Art in 1969, and was accepted into the Yale Architecture Department but had to return to San Francisco to attend to his ailing mother.
Bill continued his studies at the S.F. Art Institute, but turned to teaching high school art and English to supplement his career as an artist. He taught at Lick-Wilmerding (1970-71), then at the Urban School (1972-1998), when he retired with disability. Beginning in the mid-1980s Bill had a series of four painful and debilitating spinal surgeries., but continued painting and teaching in spite of the severe pain.
Bill lived a life devoted to art, and through it sought to represent the world and its truth. Like many artists before him he focused on exploring the world by repeated paintings of the same setting, be it the waves of Greece, the English Lakes, rainy nighttime streets, rugged woodlands, or friends and models. Bill had his first solo exhibition at the SFMOMA Artists Gallery in 1985 and subsequently numerous solo and group shows. His work is collected throughout the United States as well as in England and France. He is represented by the Andra Norris Gallery, and frequently exhibits his work at the Fall Show at Fort Mason, by epoca. His website is: williamstanisich.com.
Bill had a brilliant mind and a fierce intellect, his learning and knowledge were extensive, embracing literature, history, art, music, and opera. He was a huge presence in the lives of those who knew him. He also was a rare aficionado of opera singers who would argue in favor of Maria Callas and Renata Tebaldi with equal fervor.
Bill was undeterred to the end – his keen wit, delightful sense of humor, genuine warmth, intellectual vitality, and honest reflections all very much in play – but his body had been stressed past a point of repair. Bill is survived by his partner and husband of 44 years Jim Meyer, his godmother, Helen DeMonte, many cousins, his very close friends, many devoted former students, and his many collectors. His art will be his greatest legacy.
Bill’s body was placed in the earth in a green burial at Fernwood Cemetery in Marin County. Beside Alice, Kate, Jonathan, and Mark, who lent their eyes and many words to this obituary, Bill’s community of friends and family would like to thank Frederick Crisostomo, and especially Jherico Cuenco and Golden Hope Services for the 15 months of exceptional home health care they provided.
In lieu of flowers, gifts in honor of Bill Stanisich may be made to Urban School of San Francisco (Art Department) and San Francisco Opera.
Rest in peace, dear Bill – you will live forever in our hearts. A celebration of life may be announced at a later date.
Bill’s art and life was reported on in the pages of Yale1969.org several different times:
If many of you don’t remember ever having seen Bill on the Yale campus, it may be because he spent so much time in New York, watching operas at the Met, waiting in line for standing-room tickets for those operas or shuttling back and forth on that decrepit old New Haven RR.
I met Bill in our freshman year and was swept away by his joyous enthusiasms (in a setting where so many freshmen seemed prematurely afflicted with world-weariness and wariness.) Bill and I shared apartments two summers in New York, and then went our separate ways after graduation.
In those days before email, Facebook, and cheap long distance rates, it was easy to lose track. We reconnected about ten years ago, when I visited Bill and his husband, Jim, in their beautiful home in San Francisco. (His passion for that city was as boundless as it was for opera.) Despite debilitating pain from a back injury and an ever-spiraling assortment of other health issues, he maintained an outlook as zesty and infectious as it was when we were both 18.
In addition to Jim, Bill leaves behind a dazzling array of visionary watercolors and inspiring memories of a life well-lived for all who knew him.
I didn’t know Bill at college, but got to know him through the essay I wrote (co-wrote, to be exact) for our 50th reunion class book (the link is above). Bill was a warm and thoughtful guy. My wife and I went to one of his shows, and later I stayed with Bill and Jim over a weekend in San Francisco. They were super-hospitable. Bill took me out for a walk. Zooming along the sidewalk in his motorized wheelchair, he explained some of the architecture of the city to me. I had hoped to visit him one more time a few months ago, but he wasn’t up to it.