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Byline: Bianca Collins
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Enrique Martínez Celaya Takes the Road Less Traveled
Enrique Martínez Celaya is embarking on a new journey, and we are faithfully following in his wake. The masterful Cuban-American painter had his first solo exhibition in LA since 2015, “The Tears of Things,” at Kohn Gallery this September. The artist took full advantage of the gallery’s sweeping ceilings, working in his preferred large scale to create a body of work that reveals the nature of his concerns.
One month before his exhibition, I was invited to interview Martínez Celaya at his sprawling Culver City studio. His studio director greeted me and ushered me into the artist’s workspace where I was hit by a wall of sound. To the blaring music of Aerosmith, Martínez Celaya was working on the centerpiece for his show, The Reign, a large oil-and-wax painting featuring an apple tree in a winter landscape. Feeling my gaze upon him, he gestured for me to please wait a minute while he finished up. After a few more rapid brushstrokes, he left the room, and Steven Tyler was silenced mid-howl.
Enrique Martínez Celaya, The Lesson, 2019 Martínez Celaya, not a stranger, swiftly greeted me, and then was off, motioning for me to follow him. I jogged, trying to keep up with the artist, who was clearly still riding a wave of creative adrenaline.
He gave me an expedited tour of his mock-up of the Kohn Gallery installation and a quick run-through of works in progress. We sat before one work that seemed nearly finished, The Virtue, a painting of a solitary skater gliding across a huge body of frozen water with snow-covered hills in the background. The skater is tightly bundled up, as one must be to survive in such a frigid atmosphere. Across the top of the painting was inscribed a quote by Robert Frost: “Here are your waters and your watering place.”
Martínez Celaya used to write his own words on his paintings, but as of late he prefers to include phrases by writers he respects; this is done partly to deter viewers from assigning an autobiographical narrative to his work.
We talked about the multitude of allusions in The Virtue, and how metaphor is critical to his work. The ice sheet represents the idea of something essential, like water: “In the wrong place, it’s inaccessible,” and the relevance of the well-known phrase “skating on thin ice.”
Installation view of The Reign, 2019 Martínez Celaya also revels in the power of his primary medium, paint, and the ways in which it can trick the mind. He paints abruptly, roughly, to keep viewers suspended within an idea we can almost hold but is just out of reach. For example, the inhospitable environment of The Virtue is visually driven home with a puff of the skater’s breath that freezes immediately upon hitting the air, partially obscuring his or her face.“The entire painting was made pretty much just to have the breath,” said Martínez Celaya.
His prowess with metaphor and paint is undeniable as he produces work after work of representational imagery—usually a young boy or girl, or an animal, or both, in a landscape—layered with meaning, yet denying a narrative. “In my work, there’s always a balance with the reference, never getting too much into storytelling… but always a fragment of a narrative,” he said. Through metaphor, the artist intentionally gives the viewer the power to project personal experiences onto his images, encouraging an intimate connection to his work.
While each painting suggests mere fragments of stories, the totality of work in “The Tears of Things” does indeed tell a narrative—and a personal one at that, despite Martínez Celaya’s best efforts at concealment. Front and center across the board are images that reflect his ruminations on the elements of hope and risk in new journeys through such diverse imagery as a well-trodden golden landscape, a matador taking on a bull, a skater gliding across thin ice, a man with children walking through a “dome of darkness.” These paintings seemingly embody the paradigm shifts he has frequently ignited in his own life.
Enrique Martínez Celaya, The Virtue (detail), 2019 Most people don’t know, for example, that Martínez Celaya was once a successful physicist and inventor of lasers. Leaving science for art in his early 20s “was my first rebellion,” he said, adding, “I wanted to be in the world as an artist.” More recently, the artist took a huge risk by leaving LA Louver, one of the most important and historically respected blue-chip galleries in town. He also went through a divorce, a “rebellion against my own idea of the good.” These were not small adjustments but massive alterations undertaken with the belief that happiness—currency equal to gold—would be waiting at the end of his journey.
The key to his success, perhaps, is that Martínez Celaya takes these risky, dramatic and self-assured changes of course with a certain sense of grace. “I wanted this [show] to not be so obvious: ‘A bullfighter and a skater, what is the relationship?’ Well, they’re both in this endeavor in which they launch themselves in some glamor outfit of some sort, and there’s a risk—risk of death or drowning. A lot of it depends on grace, as you glide, as you wear this fancy outfit. The relationship between grace and risk; the two of them seem to be the same.”
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Taking a Piece of Chicago Home in LA
Last Saturday, the hottest gallery opening taking place was at Jeffrey Deitch, Los Angeles for the opening of Judy Chicago: Los Angeles. This exhibition presents a largely unseen body of early work, reminding us that about 50 years ago Chicago spent the good part of a decade in Los Angeles and Fresno, California creating bold, colorful art.
Judy Chicago: Los Angeles at Jeffrey Deitch, Los Angeles. © 2019 Ozeylah Smyth She enrolled in auto body school, learning how to fuse color, material, and form, as the only woman of two hundred and fifty men in her class. This experience would pave the way for petite Chicago to become a titan of Feminist art, largely in part due to her seminal installation The Dinner Party (1974-79), that, in Chicago’s words via email, “taught a broad and diverse audience about the richness of women’s heritage.”
Chicago’s opening at Jeffrey Deitch, Los Angeles was crawling with people of all ages and walks of life, eager to see her early work and catch a glimpse of – or perhaps even meet – Chicago herself. There were long lines of folks eager to snag limited edition merchandise items at accessible prices ($18-$225), including reproductions of Chicago’s iconic dinner plates from The Dinner Party.
The Sappho Dessert Plate, Judy Chicago. 2019. Limited edition of 150, available for purchase via Prospect. $135 “Over the years, I had noticed that many artists have produced designs for plates and I’ve often wondered why no one had ever approached me with the idea of reproducing some of The Dinner Party images… I was thrilled when Prospect suggested this project,” says Chicago.
Judy Chicago collectors’ items purchased at Prospect‘s capsule shop at the gallery were eligible to be signed by the artist – a practice typical of Prospect product launches. Almost everyone who purchased did indeed take advantage of this rare opportunity. Chicago felt it was important to create objects at accessible prices because, “through these products, more people can learn about my work, and with The Dinner Party plates in particular, about women’s history.”
Judy Chicago merchandise at the Prospect capsule shop at Jeffrey Deitch, Los Angeles Prospect produces limited edition merchandise in collaboration with major contemporary artists at “actionable” prices, in an effort to dispel the belief that art collecting is a hobby reserved exclusively for the well-to-do. Chicago and Prospect could certainly have benefitted by setting prices that were out-of-reach for most except the 1%, but that was out of the question for both parties involved.
“Regarding price points… it’s been very artist and consumer oriented,” says Laura Currie, Prospect’s Founder. “We’re really focused on making the product work for the artist, what they symbolize and what they want to share.” Chicago adds, “Not everyone can afford to purchase an original work of art. By translating the imagery of some of my works on to more attainable objects like plates, scarves, and beach towels, they become more accessible to a wider audience.”
Book of Judy Chicago Postcards at the Prospect capsule shop at Jeffrey Deitch, Los Angeles. I went home with the most affordable item in the shop, a very sturdy book of postcards with images of works in the exhibition. Chicago signed it with ink in her signature purple, making my purchase even more special.
On my walk back to my car, I imagined what it would be like to show the signed book to my future kids. I’d tell them about how I unsuccessfully tried to extract Chicago from friends, admirers, and fellow art world behemoths at her opening for a brief pre-arranged interview, though she was still gracious enough to answer my questions via email the next day. It’s these sorts of moments that make the fine art world so very seductive – not just for the 1%, but for any curious art lover.
The Art Minion works hard to make the fine art world more accessible by offering a platform to amplify female and minority artists’ voices.
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Colorizing the Art World
There is still a sense of shock over racially charged policies out of Washington that feel out of line with the West Coast’s progressive ethos. Los Angeles’ major art institutions are trying to counteract this as best they can by presenting more exhibitions by people of color (POC), increasing representation and amplifying voices once silenced in historically white spaces. In the past year, Angelenos have seen many important museum exhibitions by POC artists, tipping the scales toward an equilibrium that is long overdue.
The Broad presented Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power 1963–1983, which celebrated the vital contributions of black artists during two revolutionary decades in American history, beginning at the height of the Civil Rights movement. “Any fault lines we see in contemporary culture are plainly visible in this exhibition,” said Broad founding director Joanne Heyler at the press preview. Soul of a Nation features such important artists as Romare Bearden, Alma Thomas and Noah Purifoy, who created opportunities when recognition was scarce owing to inadequate acknowledgement from the predominantly white art world. The exhibition rewrites American art history with keenly sharp hindsight and it is perhaps worth mentioning that it was organized by London’s Tate Modern.
Installation view of Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power 1963-1983 at The Broad, 2019. Photo by Pablo Enriquez. The Skirball Cultural Center hosted Black is Beautiful by influential photographer Kwame Braithwaite, who helped coin the iconic slogan through his portraits of black musicians, organizers, and fashionistas in the ’50s and ’60s. “Black is Beautiful” fueled a Civil Rights movement and inspired African Americans to love themselves even when the world told them not to. “So many issues we faced in the 1960s, we face again today,” said curator Bethany Montagano at the press preview. The exhibition offered Angelenos the chance to address and possibly overcome the divisive challenges of this American moment ripe with racial tension.
David Hammons, “Injustice Case,” 1971. On view in Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power 1963-1983 at The Broad, 2019. Photo by Pablo Enriquez. This Fall, LACMA’s groundbreaking gallery at Charles White Elementary School—the former Otis campus in MacArthur Park where Charles White was once its first African-American faculty member—presents Life Model: Charles White and His Students. The state-of-the-art gallery benefits the school’s new magnet center for visual arts, with public access restricted to three hours on Saturdays. “The early position of my father was that education isn’t privileged,” said Ian White. “Privileged” is not a word often used to describe the student body at this historically very low-performing school, where the hope is that access to the gallery, the new arts curriculum and the legacy of Charles White will connect the dots for what art can do for education. With plans for the museum-grade gallery to become an extended classroom for a whole school of low-income Hispanic students, White’s insistence that art is for everyone continues to drive societal progress for disenfranchised communities.
John Riddle, “Untitled,” 1970s. Craft Contemporary’s exhibition of sculptures and assemblages by John T. Riddle Jr. and his contemporaries highlights the work of a largely underappreciated group of black artists in LA. “Younger generations of black makers in LA stand on the history, tradition and shoulders of this group,” said curator jillith moniz in an interview. Founder of Quotidian gallery in Downtown LA and former lead curator at California African American Museum, moniz is notably the only black female curator of any of the shows mentioned in this article. She continues to tirelessly present work by the community of black artists who made LA a unique and important space for people who come to be creators and use materials in an innovative way.
LACMA’s upcoming exhibition of renowned 92-year-old black sculptor Betye Saar, a living legend in no small part due to her socially critical work. LACMA’s show will look at the relationship between Saar’s preliminary sketches and their final realization as found-object assemblages.
Betye Saar, “The Liberation of Aunt Jemima,” 1972. On view in Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power 1963-1983 at The Broad, 2019. Photo by Pablo Enriquez. I’ve concentrated on shows featuring black artists because as a Mexican, I did note an absence of Latinx artists in the round. With Latinx communities continuing to experience reprehensible treatment by the current administration, a slew of exhibitions presenting work by Hispanic artists who represent the majority population in LA should be the next trend to sweep the city. After all, art may be the only place a person can be seen whole—where tribulations are not discredited but magnified. Art exhibitions that normalize the “other” may be the best agent for change yet.
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REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019
The Roy and Edna Disney / CALARTS Theatre (REDCAT) hosted the 16th Annual New Original Works Festival over the last three consecutive weekends, inviting audience members to step outside our comfort zone to experience three new contemporary dance, theater, music or multimedia performances per weekend.
Personally, I found the festival to be a real exercise in expanding my practice of experience without expectation, as each performance delivered a message that I had to work to unravel or work to accept that I couldn’t. Often, I felt dumbfounded yet emotionally charged when the final blackouts came. How could both sensations exist simultaneously? These modalities of expression were hybrid beasts that I hadn’t yet befriended. But, I reminded myself week after week, finding the mental space to sit with the unknown is what engaging with art is all about, isn’t it?
While each new original work from the festival deserves kudos for pushing the boundaries of conceptual art, the following performances especially hit a nerve with me.
Kate Watson-Wallace and Verónica Casado Hernández’s Kim.
“Kim.” at REDCAT during 2019 New Original Works Festival. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Kim.” at REDCAT during 2019 New Original Works Festival. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Kim.” at REDCAT during 2019 New Original Works Festival. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Kim.” at REDCAT during 2019 New Original Works Festival. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Kim.” at REDCAT during 2019 New Original Works Festival. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Kim.” at REDCAT during 2019 New Original Works Festival. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Kim.” at REDCAT during 2019 New Original Works Festival. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. Three young women in curious costumes of 80s workout gear, business attire, the occasional fur jacket, and silver thigh high stiletto boots are joined on stage by male artist and composer HPrizm. He provided live music accompaniment while decked out in a metallic silver bodysuit off to the side of the stage, never moving from his platform but extending an ever-present, watchful eye onto the women. Under his gaze and to the beat of his music that included phrases like, “Can you hear me now?” and, “My head,” the women exercised their bodies with increasing, writhing sexuality, eventually covering their faces like Cousin It with their long hair that they whipped back and forth with frenzied energy.
As the performance climaxed, the women revealed their faces again, and began vocalizing – sexual moans relieved with comical sounds, then statements repeated over and over with increasing speed and desperation as they became intertwined in a knot of limbs, tangled up in each other and rolling off the stage as they chanted, “I have so much. I should be happy. I wish I had more time. Sometimes I’m like, ‘What am I doing?’”
Kim. seemed to me to be an absurdist physical manifestation of the various states women move through to inhabit the expectations of the femme – exercising, working, arousing, and fretting. It was a “naughty disruption,” indulging in the irony of desire, failure, and the ecstatic in the face of the ever present male gaze.
Austyn Rich’s BL::DY SPAGHETTI
“Bl::dy Spaghetti” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Bl::dy Spaghetti” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Bl::dy Spaghetti” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Bl::dy Spaghetti” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Bl::dy Spaghetti” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Bl::dy Spaghetti” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Bl::dy Spaghetti” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “Bl::dy Spaghetti” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. This was a dance-based performance executed with excellent precision and passion by Austyn Rich and Alvaro Montelongo, both recent graduates of the new USC Glorya Kaufman School of Dance. The two performers, one black and one Latinx, paid homage to black and brown troops who were placed at the front lines of war through movements based in ballet and modern dance.
The two dancers were rolled onto stage atop a large platform structure as sounds of waves lapping and marine horns filled the air, imbuing a sense of danger and impending conflict for our heroes. The two men refuse to communicate directly, even as their movements echo one another, moving them to synchronicity. As tensions rise, teamwork is required to survive. They make it through to terror of war, back to the mainland where they change out of their sailors’ uniforms and into blue-collar work clothing.
On land, they remain connected across social divisions as a result of their traumatic past shared experiences. But, the Latinx’s soldier’s despair can’t be contained; he wraps himself in black sheer fabric in death as his comrade helplessly watches. Fearful of being mistaken to have his friend’s blood on his hands, the black soldier leaves his friend’s body, as Billie Holiday’s Strange Fruit accompanies the final blackout.
BL::DY SPAGHETTI seemed to me to be an interpretation of the bonds formed under the pressure of war – and the current state of affairs in our country can certainly be likened to war, wherein racial divisiveness instigates violent behavior and hatred. This work was a poignant example of Rich’s ability and determination to craft trauma into triumph through dance, with a moving piece that celebrates friendship, pride, death, and love in the face of constructs meant to defeat.
Paul Outlaw’s BBC (Big Black Cockroach)
“BBC (Big Black Cockroach)” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “BBC (Big Black Cockroach)” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “BBC (Big Black Cockroach)” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “BBC (Big Black Cockroach)” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “BBC (Big Black Cockroach)” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “BBC (Big Black Cockroach)” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. “BBC (Big Black Cockroach)” during REDCAT’s New Original Works Festival 2019. Photo by Vanessa Crocini. Inspired by Kafka’s The Metamorphosis, this challenging work impacted me the most of all the works in the festival this year. A one-man show, Paul Outlaw’s boldness blew me away as he inhabited the character of a white, wealthy, conservative woman who wakes up to find herself trapped in a black man’s body, isolated to a room within an experimental lab.
We see Outlaw’s character move through the transformation of a woman who orgasms from the pleasure of the power she holds to a fearful and confused woman trapped in a man’s body, rich with the “stench of blackness.” She is held against her will over the course of several weeks, becoming more and more desperate as she begins to accept that her internalized homophobia, misogyny, and new reality as a black man cannot be deferred.
Outlaw’s character finally gets ahold of police via 911, who she begs to save her from a black man who has trapped her. As Outlaw exits the stage, naked, with arms up in a symbol of defenselessness, the sound of gunshots blasts and darkness falls.
The power of BBC’s exploration of xenophobia, black virility, and gender confusion left me speechless and stunned. In the end, death was preferable for a fragile white woman whose privilege was stricken the moment she was forced to accept the identity of a black man. The weight of that message was not lost on me.
At the end of this three-week festival of experimental work, frankly, I felt mentally drained. But, I had too much respect for the work I had seen to ignore it out of fear. I pushed through a gnawing sense of inadequacy for not immediately comprehending a clear meaning in each work. I would not back down; this article would be written.
Without the privilege of context by way of wall text or audio guide, I returned to the basic tenet of art education that simply requires a personal interpretation. I remembered that any conclusion derived from viewing art is as valid as the next, and to be a contributing member of the art community, we don’t need a degree in higher education – we need only to dive in, certain of the power in our own point of view.
The Art Minion works hard to make the fine art world more accessible by offering a platform to amplify female and minority artists’ voices.
Keep up with The Art Minion on Instagram!
Email pitches to bianca.s.collins@gmail.com
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Coachella 2019
Coachella 2019 has come and gone, leaving literal dust in its wake. This was the 20th year of Coachella festival, and it shared a particularly strong art program with its visitors. Large art installations are an integral element of the festival, providing shade, joy, and a place to rest during a long day in the desert sun chasing beats. Here are the four most noteworthy art projects from 2019.
Francis Kéré’s Sarbalé Ke. Photo by The Art Minion. Francis Kéré’s Sarbalé Ke. Photo by The Art Minion. Francis Kéré’s Sarbalé Ke. Photo by The Art Minion. Francis Kéré’s Sarbalé Ke
Berlin-based African artist Francis Kéré’s architectural installation Sarbalé Ke translates to “house of celebration,” and mimics the form of the baobab trees that are found in his native West African village of Gando, Burkina Faso. These forms, like the tree, can be seen from a great distance and naturally draw community members to gather around and beneath it to discuss and celebrate. Boldly colored geometric patterns created a welcoming appeal that was embraced by the festival goers who lounged and relaxed near the structures, some soaring up to 60 feet above the ground.
NEWSUBSTANCE’s Spectra 2019. Photo by The Art Minion. NEWSUBSTANCE’s Spectra 2019
This tower of technicolor is a beacon of light for festival goers at Coachella, back for the second year after it went viral in 2018. It mimics the vibrant colors of sunset and and sunrise in the desert, while also providing filters through which to appreciate the landscape around it. All weekend long, this multi-level structure had a long line of people waiting to ascend and descend its ramps for 360 degree views of the festival and the surrounding desert.
Sofia Enriquez’s Mismo. Photo by The Art Minion. Sofia Enriquez’s Mismo. Photo by The Art Minion. Sofia Enriquez’s Mismo. Photo by The Art Minion. Sofia Enriquez’s Mismo
Enriquez’s massive, brightly colored paisley sculptures represent equality. A pattern laden with southwestern energy, constructed in wood and reaching 14 feet into the sky, paisley can be found on a labor worker’s bandana or a business man’s tie – a small victory of common ground for communities that drift further and further apart. Her sculptures functioned as a call to Coachella guests to greet one another and converse in their midst, leaving differences outside the perimeter of the festival.
Poetic Kinetic’s Overview Effect
5 years ago, an astronaut roamed the Coachella grounds, and he was a viral hit. He’s been traveling the cosmos ever since, and just touched back down on the polo fields to share his adventures. Little clues could be found all over him that told the story of where he’d been, while festival goers were invited to take selfies with a specific hashtag for the chance to be shared as the face of the astronaut for a few minutes. This interactive artwork brought tons of smiles to Coachella – and, at the end of the day, that’s the whole point, isn’t it?
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America Martin’s Soul Gold
America Martin, the young Colombian-American artist known for her bold use of color and line in primitive, abstracted images of humans, is gaining recognition with growing momentum. With commanding forms that call to mind Picasso’s portraits and Basquiat’s energetic brushstrokes, collectors and enthusiasts alike are tuning in to her adoration of and devotion to the human form – strong and beautiful, but unidealized.
America Martin in her studio. Photo by The Art Minion. I visited Martin at her 10,000-square-foot former drapery manufacturing warehouse studio in Los Angeles to talk about her obsession with the female form, what it means to be a “painting anthropologist” and her determination to share her soul gold.
“I am fascinated by people,” gushes Martin. “The why and the stories of a people, and the reason why they do things… When you look at a bus stop with a collection of 8 people, and they’re not talking to each other, each going someplace different, I’m just like, ‘That’s so perfect! That’s a painting!’”
It’s these sort of everyday Genre scenes that make up most of Martin’s oeuvre and justify her self-given title of “painting anthropologist,” but she has a way of romanticizing the quotidian in a way that make these moments feel monumental. While men and still life images certainly find their fair share of the limelight in her work, many of her larger-than-life paintings feature another form found throughout art history – the nude female figure. “I’m doing what art has been doing forever,” Martin says with satisfaction, “though I’m able to have more real estate – when I say “real estate,” I mean, scope of joy and confidence in the way that I portray women – because I am a woman.”
Artwork by America Martin in her studio. Photo by The Art Minion. However common the subject may be, Martin’s portrayal of women as a reflection of her own identity aren’t hyper-sexual or idealized, like Manet’s Olympia or Ingre’s Grande Odalisque. Instead, Martin brings power to womanhood through her large contemporary figures, rendered with strong strokes to bestow strong shapes; a love letter to the modern woman – impervious to the male gaze. They are anything but demure, relishing in their manifestation provided by a self-assured, independent woman. “I’m amazed at how beautiful people are,” Martin says, “Real shapes. Big bodies. That’s pleasurable for me; to draw and see confident strong figures.”
For Martin, creating art is the daily ritual through which she translates life, and so her studio is filled to the brim with paintings, sculptures, and drawings. “What do you even do when you see all this beautiful stuff out there? I want to join in ‘The Teddy Bears’ Picnic’! I want to run into the field and make stuff, too.”
Artwork by America Martin in her studio. Photo by The Art Minion. This has been Martin’s modus operandi as long as she can remember. Born and raised in Los Angeles, Martin was lucky to have a strong support system to help refine her natural artistic talent from a young age. “There was nothing that was gonna make me not paint,” Martin remembers. She went to college but quit almost immediately to return to Los Angeles, save up money by bartending, and live in her mother’s garage for a year so she could do nothing but build a body of work by painting every day. “You have to figure out a way to carve out time to create because no one will do it for you,” she insists. “No one will give you that time – but it does exist. You can’t listen to all the reasons why not.”
Martin recognized her hometown as an incubator of talent from around the world that would hopefully also honor her work ethic and indulge her dreams. “[People in LA] are the sparkly or black sheep; the ones that had a different idea and came here to give it a shot… It’s like the reverse gold rush. Everyone’s got gold in them, and they come to this place to pawn it, to see if someone will buy it.”
She surrounded herself with other young artists hustling to show their work and achieve the holy grail of gallery representation. “I actually asked an artist friend of mine, Alex Prager, who is now a huge photographer. She had just made a little pop-up show. I was like, “I wanna have a pop-up show.” She was like, “You just need to get booze and some walls.” And that’s all we did, just a bunch of artists having pop-up shows in Los Feliz and Echo Park and Silverlake.”
America Martin in her studio. Photo by The Art Minion. This pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps approach worked in Martin’s favor. She found representation with JoAnne Artman Gallery in Laguna Beach, who has presented Martin’s work steadily and successfully for the last decade. “The lines, all about those lines!” says Artman, who appreciates Martin’s willingness to always try something new. “New materials, new directions… always experimenting.”
Martin hopes the same freedom to explore will be instilled in the next generation of young people. “We’re not teaching kids that expressing themselves or being able to look at and engage with someone else’s expression is of value or has worth. People don’t think that they need art until they are in a place where there is no art, and they feel the lack. I like the idea of not being why or for any particular thing besides inspiration making.”
As we know now, access to art is an indispensable presence with measurable benefits in any society. Murals that replace graffiti-covered, decrepit walls and reduce local crime is a perfect example. The effect is subconscious; powerful. The same is true on a smaller scale, within the individual, as the osmosis of art inevitably ignites empathy and paradigm shifts in thinking.
Martin encourages everyone not to ignore the impulse to create. “Those are the moments where your artist insideness – your muse – is going ‘Hey, come here, let’s do this!’ And if you say, ‘No no no,’ or you listen to other people say, ‘No no no,’ it gets flattened. It’s really hard to build that up again… it takes faith.”
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Desert X 2019
Desert X is back. Its inaugural year in 2017 saw 200,000 visitors from around the world flocking to see exciting, site-specific temporary art installations in the California desert. It was a beautiful thing – no walls, no cost, no barriers keeping anyone from experiencing the wonder of Doug Aitken’s Mirage, Phillip K Smith’s The Circle of Land and Sky, or Lita Albuquerque’s hEARTH.
This year, the same sense of accessible adventure permeates the DX19 experience, with installations by a new roster of 19 artists covering almost 55 miles of land all the way to the Salton Sea. With the help of a beautifully produced guidebook available for free at any Desert X “hubs” in the area, or the Desert X app, you can choose your own route to visit the works you are most intrigued to see. This is the true magic of Desert X; the opportunity to shape your own experience fused with the delight of approaching a work of art in a most unexpected place. A white cube, the desert is not – these artworks are as unpredictable as their environment.
These are the installations still vibrating in my mind that I highly suggest you see during your trip to the desert. Fair warning – an attempt to cram in every artwork during one day is possible, but not recommended. If you have the time and money to spend two full days in the desert, you can see it all without inviting fatigue.
Desert X installation view, Iván Argote, A Point Of View, 2019, photo by Lance Gerber, courtesy of Desert X. Iván Argote’s “A Point of View”. Desert X 2019. Photo by The Art Minion. Iván Argote’s “A Point of View”. Desert X 2019. Photo by The Art Minion. Iván Argote’s A Point of View
Many of this year’s most impressive artworks, including Argote’s, take advantage of a natural site that flies in the face of expectation – the Salton Sea, the biggest lake in California created in 1905 thanks to an engineering mishap that redirected the Colorado River into a basin in the desert. Argote, a Colombian artist, has created an interactive sculpture made of concrete staircases that call to mind Brutalist structures, oriented in different directions, functioning as a sundial. A poetry occurs as you ascend and descend each staircase, with messages in English and Spanish stamped into the concrete on each step. From the top of each structure, the audience may either communicate with one another or turn to appreciate the landscape and a view of the Sea. This site, once at the bottom of the ancient Lake Cahuilla in Paleolithic times, still holds seashells and signs of centuries-old marine life. As I mounted each staircase, utilizing my remedial Spanish to interpret the messages on the steps, I felt as though I was an explorer trying to break the code of something mysterious in the desert created by a more intelligent entity. Truthfully, A Point of View felt like the best work of the year.
Desert X installation view, Steve Badgett and Chris Taylor, Terminal Lake Exploration Platform, 2019, photo by Lance Gerber, courtesy of Desert X. Steve Badgett and Chris Taylor’ are greeted by Desert X Co-Curator Matthew Schum in front of their “Terminal Lake Exploration Platform” moored on the Salton Sea. Desert X 2019. Photo by The Art Minion. Steve Badgett and Chris Taylor’s “Terminal Lake Exploration Platform” moored on the Salton Sea. Desert X 2019. Photo by The Art Minion. Steve Badgett and Chris Taylor’s Terminal Lake Exploration Platform
Yes, the Salton Sea is a sight for sore eyes and a source of life for many species that make the desert their home – but, what lies beneath this evaporating body of water? This is the unanswered question that Badgett and Taylor will answer with their contribution to Desert X, a roaming laboratory seacraft with the necessary life support and research infrastructure needed to map the lake floor with the help of sonar. An evolution of the tenet of Land Art in the 70s that declared anything in the environment can be seen as an aesthetic object, the artists interpret the basin as an indicator of present ecological and political conditions – urgent, yet ignored. While the likelihood of visiting the site without actually seeing the artwork is high (it may be out to Sea, logging and collecting curious imagery from the murky deep), visitors are welcome to head to the Salton Sea State Recreation Area visitor center theatre to watch videos about the assembly and migration of the platform, and eventually see scan data of the floor beneath the lake.
Desert X installation view, Pia Camil, Lover’s Rainbow, 2019, photo by Lance Gerber, courtesy of Desert X. Pia Camil in front of “Lover’s Rainbow”. Desert X. Photo by The Art Minion. Pia Camil in front of “Lover’s Rainbow”. Desert X. Photo by The Art Minion. Pia Camil’s Lover’s Rainbow
Mexican artist Pia Camil’s rainbow made from rebar is one of three artworks in DX19 that extends into Mexico, with an earlier, exact replica rainbow in Baja. In Mexico, rebar, an essential element of building structures, is often left exposed on what would be the second floor of homes. This is done in the hopes that eventually the owners will have the resources to build out the second floor, though often these dreams are unrealized. Inspired by the immigrant caravan that was beginning to move North, Camil proposed the work for DX19 as a way to shed light onto the current immigration policies at the forefront of American politics. Utilizing the iconography of rainbows as a sign of inclusiveness, Camil’s Lovers Rainbows offers hope to those across the border.
Desert X installation view, John Gerrard, Western Flag (Spindletop, Texas) 2017, 2017-2019, photo by Lance Gerber, courtesy of Desert X. John Gerrard’s Flag
At the entrance to Palm Springs, a large LED screen on a 24 hour loop depicts a virtual simulation of the site in Texas that was home to the first major oil find in the US, nicknamed the Lucas Gusher. In this simulation, a flagpole spews out black smoke – carbon monoxide, which is normally invisible to the human eye. This Flag begs us to consider the risks of the anthropocene, in a current state of dire nature as the invisible threat of climate change threatens humanity. The city of Palm Springs represents a certain reliance on petrol; arguably only able to exist in the desert due to its proximity to Los Angeles, the first major petrol city. If this work makes you feel anxious, that’s the point. “I think we need to get a bit worried about what’s going on, environmentally,” Gerrard said. Ironically, during the media preview, an energy source meant to be powered by the freeway hadn’t yet been set up, and so a generator fueled with petrol provided the electricity needed to keep the work up and running.
Desert X installation view, Cinthia Marcelle, Wormhole, 2019, photo by Lance Gerber, courtesy of Desert X. Cinthia Marcelle’s “Wormhole” with footage from Tijuana. Desert X. Photo by Maggie Hund. Cinthia Marcelle’s “Wormhole”. Desert X. Photo by The Art Minion. Cinthia Marcelle’s Wormhole
This is yet another work that extends into Mexico, through a wormhole of sorts. Brazilian artist Marcelle has created a chain of videos that share time lapse footage over 24 hours of individual empty storefronts in the California desert and in Tijuana, Mexico. Beyond the glass of these empty storefronts, a television monitor streams the footage of the exterior of another storefront in the group. This shortcut through space and time was initially pitched to be part of DX17, but border difficulties kept it from being realized until now. Of the footage from Tijuana, Marcelle says, “This guy is in Tijuana, but he’s been transported here. This is about the illegality and power of our subconsciousness to cross barriers.” Wormhole asks us to consider what is real, and the fragility of the border between Mexico and the US.
Desert X installation view, Sterling Ruby, Specter, 2019, photo by Lance Gerber, courtesy of Desert X. Sterling Ruby’s SPECTER
Apparitions in the desert often take the form of oases or flying objects… but SPECTER is another thing, entirely. Ruby, the renowned American sculptor, has created his own unique shade of fluorescent orange that covers a large, rectangular form. This sculpture somehow evades photography with a curious effect, appearing to have been photoshopped into the landscape. Unfortunately, when the media visited the work, it had not yet completed installation, and a short time later a torrent of rain flooded the site, making it inaccessible to visitors — there’s something perfectly on brand about this site-specific work that mirrors the unpredictable nature of the desert.
Desert X installation view, Superflex, Dive-In, 2019, photo by Lance Gerber, courtesy of Desert X. Superflex’s Dive-In
Superflex, the Danish artist collective, is interested in the way history makes mistakes. Coachella Valley, for instance, is a misspelling of the original name given to the area by Spanish settlers after their discovery of fossilized marine life – Conchilla, meaning “little shell”. This error has lead to a populus largely ignorant to the fact that this desert was once underwater. In this vein, Superflex have created an architectural form equally attractive to human and marine life, inspired by the color palette of Palm Springs and marine corals, recreating a more recent extinction – the drive-in movie theatre. This structure would embrace a moment when sea levels inevitably rise back and reclaim area. On Saturdays, visitors can enjoy a screening from 6-8pm.
There you have it – just a sampling of the offerings of Southern California’s most unique exhibition of site-specific art. Prepare to go to places you’d normally never go, to see artworks that reveal the invisible…
Desert X runs through April 21, 2019.
The Art Minion works hard to make the fine art world more accessible by offering a platform to amplify female and minority artists’ voices.
Keep up with The Art Minion on Instagram!
Email pitches to bianca.s.collins@gmail.com
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Photo L.A. 2019
Last weekend, the West Coast’s longest running photography art fair Photo L.A. celebrated its 27th edition – and like a fine wine, it is getting better with age. This year, Photo L.A. flexed its muscles in a new, expansive home at the historic Barker Hangar at the Santa Monica Airport. There was a palpable sense of excited energy as guests explored the redesigned layout of the fair at the opening night celebration benefiting Venice Arts, a nonprofit that transforms the lives of low-income youth through arts education. The Hangar had plenty of room for the who’s who of the LA art world to rub elbows and celebrate honoree Jo Ann Callis, the provocateur known for her dramatically and sensually staged photographs, repped in LA by ROSEGALLERY.
Weston Naef (L) inspects a grid of photographs by Alexander Tsway (R) Weston Naef (L) and Stephen Cohen (R), the founder of Photo L.A. Gallerist Bill Turner Weston Naef leading a tour of Photo LA before the VIP Vernissage I attended a pre-VIP vernissage walk-through with LA’s own expert on photography Weston Naef, founding curator of photographs at the J. Paul Getty Museum. His verve was contagious as he lead a group of “newbies to experts” through the fair for over an hour, pointing out photographs he considered significant or especially appealing for someone who may be a burgeoning photography collector.
When the fair officially opened its doors at 5 p.m., the revelry began, with enthusiastic greetings echoing across the hangar as old friends came together to celebrate Los Angeles’ indelible status as a frontier of the art world.
Independent curator Brenda Williams Gallerist Rose Shoshana of ROSEGALLERY Director of The Lapis Press Adam Gross (L) with gallerist Paul Kopeikin of Kopeikin Gallery (R) Collector Merry Norris in front of a photograph by Christian Block L to R: Collectors Bob Turbin and Carol Vernon with art critic Edward Goldman Collector Susan Morse with curator and daughter Zoe Lemelson Kai Loebach, celebrity chef and art collector L to R: Kai Loebach, Edward Goldman, art advisor Helen Lewis and artist and collector Danny First Edward Goldman poses for LA art-scene photographer Marlene Picard of Picard Pick Art Artist and collector Laurie Raskin (L) with collector Rick Shuman (R) Artist Jay Mark Johnson in front of his work Art consultant Jane Glassman (L) with gallerist Edward Cella (R) of Edward Cella Art & Architecture Photographer Linda Burdick (L) with Tulsa Kinney (R), Editor-in-Chief of Artillery magazine Photos by Bianca Collins
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Patrick Martinez: Building a Bridge
Installation shot, Patrick Martinez: Remembering to Forget. Charlie James Gallery. Photo by The Art Minion. “Freedom Cannot Wait”. “Deport ICE”. “Para Todos Todo, Nada Para Nosotros”. “Everything for Everyone, Nothing For Ourselves”.
These are not slogans pulled from defiant posters in one of many protests happening regularly across the United States, as American society becomes even more divided between the haves and have nots; those who speak English, and those who do not. These phrases are taken from recent neon works by Los Angeles artist Patrick Martinez, the up-and-comer whose name is becoming harder and harder to dismiss.
L: Installation shot, Patrick Martinez’ work in the pop-up exhibition Beyond the Streets. R: Installation shot, Patrick Martinez: Remembering to Forget. Charlie James Gallery. Both 2018. Photos by The Art Minion. “People say to me, ‘You’re making POC [Person of Color]-type work — it’s not even that. America has a problem with me being who I am. So, this is just a response – ‘Hey, you guys are trippin’.’ A lot of people get scared because it’s like, ‘Oh, this guy can’t be that big of an idiot because he made this piece of art and it’s in this gallery…’ And I kind of like that.”
L: Patrick Martinez gives a walk-through of his work “Nothing Is Up But the Rent” (2018) in the exhibition “Here” at Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery. R: Patrick Martinez. Where Does Your Auntie Live? (Temple Street). 2018. Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery. Photos by The Art Minion. Martinez, who is Native American, Mexican and Filipino, has been making waves with his politically charged artworks that are occupying space in important galleries in Los Angeles (Charlie James Gallery and Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery) and New York (Fort Gansevoort, opening March 2019), and must-see pop-up exhibitions, such as 2018’s Beyond the Streets in Downtown Los Angeles.
His art, rendered in neon, found objects, stucco and paint, recalls the experience of city life in East LA, building a bridge between urban minority communities and the fine art world through the simple act of representation. Martinez understands the power of inclusion to ignite engagement, saying, “My work helps people to feel more welcome [in a fine art space] – more proud of where they live.”
Patrick Martinez. Landscape for Lease (Diptych). 2017. Photo courtesy Patrick Martinez. Ironically, it was after Martinez was formally trained as a painter that he learned to appreciate the “lack of formula” in the aesthetic of the metropolis around him. He began to hone in on the push and pull between those who illegally add to the landscape with graffiti and makeshift memorials, and those who are hired to abate such blights upon the city.
Patrick Martinez. Remembering to Forget. 2018. Photo courtesy Patrick Martinez. Crafted in stucco, ceramic tiles, spray paint and found objects, his Wall works seem to have been pulled directly from the gritty streets of Los Angeles, a “combined landscape” of different walls, colors and textures in neighborhoods across the city.
Patrick Martinez. Los Angeles Landscape (Echo Park). 2017. Photo courtesy Patrick Martinez. While Martinez’ neon signs “remix advertising” to act as calls to action to defy the status quo of hot-button issues like immigration and race relations, his Wall works are a more subtle subversion; an attempt to close the gap created over centuries of institutional prejudice between the fine art world and minority communities.
Patrick Martinez in his studio with his cake portrait of Angela Davis, “If They Come Morning (Angela Davis)”. Photo by The Art Minion. Despite recent progress, artistic representation of communities made by members of those communities are few and far between in fine art exhibitions. This needs to change, as studies have shown that representation is a key catalyst for empathy, inspiration, engagement and ultimately, paradigm shifts.
Martinez muses, “No wonder people feel excluded [from the art world]. There’s no commonality. I always have been preoccupied with inclusion. Even with parties, I wanted to give everyone the option to come. I knew from a very young age being represented… was important.”
Patrick Martinez. A Red Velvet Cake for a Native Son (James Baldwin). 2018. Photo courtesy Patrick Martinez. Enter Martinez’ newest body of work: portraits on sculptures made to look like birthday sheet cakes, of activists who have created a new narrative for America – who are not invisible, but under the radar of our zeitgeist. The usual suspects are present: Angela Davis, The Black Panthers, Malcolm X, James Baldwin. But, lesser known agents for change are also included in the lot – Larry Itliong, Subcomandante Marcos and Sitting Bull – promising to ignite an important “learn moment” for the otherwise educated folks who make gallery hopping a part of their regular routine.
Patrick Martinez. ¡Ya Basta! Tres Leches Cake (Subcomandante Marcos). 2018. Photo courtesy Patrick Martinez. Martinez sees populating a fine art gallery with portraits of such rebels as an act of infiltration. “The art gets into the gallery, and conversation and awareness moves forward from there. If it gets into a [museum] collection, the visibility is cemented. People will wonder, ‘Why?’ There’s an importance with portraiture. These questions will come up.”
Patrick Martinez. Chocolate Cake for the Black Panther Party. 2018. Photo courtesy Patrick Martinez. His new series of Cake works will be installed with a nod to an urban bakery and exhibited for the first time on March 7 during Armory Week at Fort Gansevoort, New York’s edgy new gallery space in the Meatpacking District, alongside his Neon and Wall works.
Patrick Martinez in his studio. 2018. Photo by The Art Minion. “My work is about equality. We all add to the fabric of history. My last name might be Martinez, but I know what I’m doing. I’m making dynamic art that has layers… I’m just trying to represent, you know?”
His new, playful, realistic Cake portraits are sure to create a buzz, as they portray subversive activists in a certain positive light (after all, a cake is made for a celebratory event). His work will hopefully also draw in passers-by who don’t often see much through a gallery window to which they can relate – a reason to celebrate, without a doubt.
The Art Minion works hard to make the fine art world more accessible by offering a platform to amplify female and minority artists’ voices.
Keep up with The Art Minion on Instagram!
Email pitches to bianca.s.collins@gmail.com