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Tag: LA
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Pick of the Week: Ariana Papademetropoulos
Jeffrey DeitchFairytales operate in a special place of human consciousness. They offer the building blocks of moralism and societal standards, for better or worse. Though folk stories, myths and fairytales are found throughout every culture, there are many common elements: simple language, universal symbology, repeated characters and motifs – essentially, they are created to be easily accessible. This may seem at ends with fine art, for which inaccessibility has been a hallmark for the better part of the last century. But the pick of the week (and perhaps the best show in Los Angeles) works to unite the two; with original works and a curated group show, “The Emerald Tablet” from Ariana Papademetropoulos at Jeffrey Deitch is a must see.
We’ll start with the originals. The large scale paintings offer a good introduction to the tone and rhythm of the show as a whole. They feature Papademetropoulos’ spectacular painting ability and weave a miraculous worlds of impossible proportions. Be it ghosts, unicorns, alien landscapes or wicker furniture, Papademetropoulos’ works entice the viewer into her occult dimension and prepare them for the magic which awaits them in the subsequent galleries.
The group show is a confluence of some of the greatest contemporary artists that Los Angeles has to offer. From up-and-comers like Lucy Bull to past powerhouses like Mike Kelley, Papademetropoulos gathers works which build off her own foundation and carry the ideas of occult happenings to new heights. The most striking works in the main room are the carousel from Raúl de Nieves and the witch-faced cottage from Jordan Wolfson, but the magic really begins in the final room. With the walls painted a deep, emerald green, rock monoliths pierce into the space, creating a feeling of sanctuary and ritual. In the center, a fantastic city under glass from the aforementioned Kelley evokes the emerald city imagined by Frank L. Baum in his timeless work, “The Wizard of Oz.”
But that quick comparison is not the base from which Papademetropoulos operates, though that is what first comes to mind. The show itself, “The Emerald Tablet,” is named for the Emerald Tablet of Hermes, an Arabic text that was foundational to the history of western occultism. This layering of meaning, hiding deeper, secret knowledge under the guise of something recognizable and mundane, is the core of occult working, and the core of Papademetropoulos efforts, both personal and curatorial.
Jeffrey Deitch
925 N. Orange Drive
Los Angeles, California 90038
Thru Oct. 23rd, 2021 -
Pick of the Week: Jason Mason
Bill Brady GalleryI’ve written a lot about Los Angeles and how it’s mistakenly known as an “ugly city.” And while before I’ve been willing to blame that mistake on biased reporting, I’m starting to believe that the call is coming from inside the house. Truthfully, we have only ourselves to blame for our city’s image problem. And it’s more than just the labels we self-ascribe. It’s the images and impressions that have become iconic to Los Angeles. The palm trees and deserts, the waves and sunsets – we supplant the city that we built with the nature that we conquered. These natural icons act as the subjects for the incisive paintings from Jason Mason in his show, “California Rhythm,” on view at Bill Brady Gallery.
I was first struck by Mason’s work when I immersed myself in the details. Mason possesses an immense technical ability; from the gentle gradations of color in waves of water or sand, to the hyper- realistic palm tree on a millennial pink backdrop, he shows himself to be an outstanding painter. He renders the symbols of southern California with an exacting and fine eye.
But the power of his works is not built on technical mastery alone, nor on a sentimental awareness of our cities iconography. Rather, Mason injects into his natural images telltale signs of humanity: like trash floating in the sea or construction equipment. Mason goads the viewer into recognizing the identity of their city not only in the natural beauty but also in our human intervention. These suggestions of humanity highlight the dichotomy of a city like Los Angeles, and the difficulty of aligning a city with natural symbols.
These ideas come to the forefront with the works which introduce textual elements. Cloak and Dagger (2021), for example, takes the classic palm tree vignettes and flips them by transforming them into cell towers. The text (“Cloak and Dagger” written across the canvas) illustrates the thin veneer of Los Angeles’ identity. We want to put forward this front of splendor and iconic nature, but at our core we are a city of wires and towers.
The “California Rhythm” is a syncopated one; it upends our traditional understanding of our city and its iconography, but still ends up with a beautiful melody.
Bill Brady Gallery
603 N. La Brea Ave.
Los Angeles, California 90036
Thru Oct. 16th, 2021 -
Pick of the Week: Camille Rose Garcia
KP ProjectsAs an omnipresent symbol across the history of humanity, the ocean assumes many roles. It is a healing force, and is immensely destructive; it is divine and earthly. The ocean encompasses the myriad of natural and mystical forces which have captivated our imagination as a species ad infinitum, inspiring visions of deities and monsters alike. “Obsidian Butterfly,” the newest show from Camille Rose Garcia on view at KP Projects, encapsulates the depths of the ocean and our connection to it.
For the past year, Garcia’s work has centered on the ocean as the Pacific became a refuge for her after being evacuated from Northern California during the wildfires. Across twelve works on panels (often adorned with driftwood) and fourteen smaller works on paper, Garcia draws on this experience to explore the shamanic and healing properties of the ocean. In her brightly colored paintings, Garcia often personifies the ocean as a healer/goddess figure, adorned with shells and sea stars.
In the titular work, Obsidian Butterfly (2021), we see one such goddess archetype articulated in Garcia’s signature style. The macabre, black-teared woman evokes the dualistic symbolism that the ocean itself evokes. While herself appearing as a kind of witch, gesturing out a spell with a wave of her hand, the warm, almost neon, palette is inviting and enticing – a sirens call. This sunburst scene is encircled by a vignette ocean floors and jungle vines, as if peering through a portal to another world.
One of the most striking works, Serpents of the Abyss (2021), again utilizes the sea-witch figures, this time in accompanying roles. They pick up instruments constructed of sea shells to announce your arrival to yet another realm, this one far ominous. A cave – or perhaps a maw – shrouds a spiny conch shell, which in turn has its own secrets. The entrance, however, is guarded by four identical serpent heads – the hydra. Smoke billows from their eyes and creates a psychedelic haze, one where the line between enchantment and peril is inexorably blurred.
Above all else, “Obsidian Butterfly” – and in fact, the entire oeuvre of Garcia’s career – is as aesthetically appealing as it is deeply rooted in the collective history of the symbols of our world, both natural and supernatural.
KP Projects
633 N. La Brea Ave.
Los Angeles, California 90036
Thru Oct. 9th, 2021 -
Pick of the Week: Art on Paper
Athenessa GalleryPaper is a flexible medium. It is unconstrained frames and backings, untethered by nails or staples, and has become essential across countries and centuries. Still, in the canon of western art history, the primacy of canvas painting has pushed works on paper aside, and only recently have they been able to garner serious appreciation. However, with a wide variety of accompanying techniques ranging from ink prints to spray-paint, paper has been a wellspring of mastery for artists around the globe and throughout history. Four contemporary artists – Amadour, Artiste Ouvrier & Zeto, and Dennis Muraguri – have been brought together at Athenessa Gallery to explore paper’s extensive repertoire in an aptly titled show, “ART ON PAPER.”
Amadour, a recent UCLA graduate, was the original driving force behind my interest in visiting this show. Their works of ink on paper are enchanting landscapes of familiar locales: Brentwood, Kenter Canyon, and others. The particular flatness of Amadour’s paintings, coupled with their inversion of the traditionally white negative space to be black, creates a mysterious and ethereal aura around the works. The dense and acute works are striking examples of ink-on-paper and are promising for a young artist.
But while Amadour’s monochrome paper works are structured and clean, the joint efforts of graffiti artists Artiste Ouvrier & Zeto are delightful jaunts across art history and their own long careers. The works begin with Artiste Ouvrier hand cut stencils, the same kind he uses in his street art but now transposed to paper. Whether incredibly detailed renditions of cathedrals or reproductions of Alphonse Mucha, Ouvrier’s stencil work is impressionistic and masterful, but the work is only half done. Zeto, a graffiti artist working since the 1980s, paints over the works, adding his signature pink elephants and aping Murakami. Zeto’s additions add a level of whimsy and make clear the hand of the artist which is absent in stencil-based works, an effect which is heightened by the artisanal paper on which the work occurs.
Finally, we come to the large wood-block prints of Kenyan artist Dennis Muraguri. On large sheets of paper, Muraguri imprints scenes of Matatu culture: highly decorated and vibrant privately owned buses which compete for customers throughout Nairobi. The prints are intricately detailed, demonstrating Muraguri’s impressive wood-carving skills and technical prowess. The medium of printing is particularly notable, drawing connections between the commercial nature of Matatu culture and printing’s roots in mass media.
Athenessa Gallery
616 S. La Brea Ave.
Los Angeles, California 90036
Thru Aug Sep 28th, 2021 -
GALLERY ROUNDS: LACMA
Review of Vera Lutter and “Acting Out”For a museum that has torn down all of the buildings on its original campus, the Los Angeles County Museum of Art has been putting up some pretty interesting exhibitions in one of only two exhibition spaces that are left. The two photography exhibitions I’m thinking of are Vera Lutter: Museum in a Camera and Acting Out: Cabinet Cards and the Making of Modern Photography, both of which have been on view in the Resnick Pavilion. Both will be up until the fall (Lutter’s exhibition closes on September 12 and the cabinet-card show on November 7). Both exhibitions are also worth a visit, and the one on 19th– century cabinet cards that opened August 8 is what I want to call attention to here.
Since the 20th century, discussions of the history of photography have usually been focused on auteurs, which is to say, individual geniuses with unique photographic styles. But the cabinet-card exhibition Acting Out goes in the opposite direction. It is host to scores of 19th-century photographers who were forgotten professionals working out of store-front studios open to the public. These practitioners chosen for the exhibition exemplify those who got into the comic spirit of things like the image of a child holding on to a dog twice her size or the dancer Helena Luy seeming to fly through the air with the greatest of ease.
Ivorette, Guiffui Studio, Scranton It isn’t just a coincidence that the two examples I’ve chosen are photographs of female subjects. Women, especially, are subjects who stand out because they took advantage of the opportunity their portraits provided to mock their prescribed place in Victorian society as compliant, even passive human beings. And the male photographers of the day accommodated them because they recognized that by acting out a bit, female subjects were securing a place in history not only for themselves, but for any photographers who got in on the joke by making their portraits.
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Pick of the Week: Dysmorphia
Maddox GalleryIt’s hard to imagine another time in my life when the word “home” will carry so much weight. The past year has redefined it for all of us. Home has become more vital than ever, yet home is more unstable than ever. Home is where we were told to stay, but home has been found in the most far-flung places. Home is safe and home is scary. It’s jamais vu: that which has always been intimately familiar is now strangely foreign. This derealization of our interior world – of our homes, of our society, of ourselves — is the focus of the current group exhibition at Maddox Gallery, “Dysmorphia,” on through August 31st.
The concept of the interior space is most readily explored with its most basic interpretation: the physical space which surrounds us. This interpretation is found in “Dysmorphia” through the works of Andrew Cooper and Nevena Prijic. Cooper’s paintings, such as Breakfast is Ready (2021), are pictorially-flattened, brightly colored illustrations of unpeopled spaces, reminiscent of early Matisse works like Harmony in Red, where the elements of the room themselves become decorative. Prijic, by contrast, inserts herself into the interior spaces – sprawled on a couch or sat tucked into herself. This highlights the solitude of the literal interior space, closed off both physically and emotionally.
But we also find society itself as an internalizing and unreal force on display, particularly with the expansive works of James Verbicky and Wyatt Mills. Mills’ Vague Traditions (2020) draws upon the art historical motif of the Madonna and Child, creating a wildly expressive yet recognizable representation of Jesus and the Virgin Mary. As the name implies, it asks us to consider the impact of Christianity and Christian symbols on our society, how the traditions are twisted and reformed to fit new purposes with familiar faces.
Finally, we are confronted with the most interior space of all: the self. All of the artists in this show – and most art today – deal in some way with our conceptions of self, but Sol Summers, Jahlil Nzinga, Sean Crim, and Justin Bower are notable for their directness. Their works, in particular Summers and Nzinga’s collaborative work Did You Find What You Were Looking For? (2020), question the ways we view ourselves, harmonizing the intense complexity of the inner world and the stark simplicity of our exterior actions. A sense of home may be difficult to find again, but perhaps it’s plainer to recognize than we imagine.
Maddox Gallery
8811 Beverly Blvd.
West Hollywood, California 90048
Thru Aug 31st, 2021 -
Pick of the Week: Andy Kolar
Walter Maciel GalleryAndy Kolar’s new show at Walter Maciel Gallery, “Head in the Clouds/Left Hanging,” is a play in three acts. Like any good play, and more so than most solo exhibitions, there is a vital rhythm and active plot – a cadence. And for good reason: Kolar’s exploration of abstraction is as varied as the materials and works themselves, and so it’s vital to construct some sort of order. So in that vein, Kolar’s works can be broken into three modes: pure, formed, and manifested.
“Head in the Clouds” begins with the pure abstraction, the painting series that Kolar refers to as Slings. These smaller works, which comprise the majority of the show, are mainly thin colored strands extending from the top half of the canvas on a nearly white background. The backgrounds are cloud-like, the white spaces broken up with small patches of blue. The slings themselves, all grouped from similar color palettes per work, are reminiscent of much yet particular of little: roots of a plant, strings of balloons, a hand reaching out.
These paintings offer the base – the inciting incident – of the entire exhibition. From them spring forth a wealth of action, beginning with a trio of paintings which begin to unite the disparate elements of each of the Sling series. The slings attain weight and interact with one another. They intersect, overlap, and begin to create entire scenes. The slings are no longer just aesthetic and conceptual; they grasp ahold of purpose and life. With them, the exhibition generates a growing momentum, and Kolar’s vision for his slings begins to take on a greater structure.
This structure is fully realized when the slings leave the canvas itself and enter into the physical space. When Kolar transforms his abstraction into sculpture, the sense of purpose vested in each becomes exponentially greater. Some of the sculptures illustrate the slings themselves, such as Loose Connection (2021), while others demonstrate means of production and practicality, likening the craft of abstract painting to construction. In one piece, Kolar affirms this connection with a simple wooden tool-box, each compartment filled to the brim with paint. Kolar lifts his works out of the abstract, summoning them into reality and practicality by wielding his symbols like blowtorches and claw hammers.
Walter Maciel Gallery
2642 S. La Cienega Blvd.
Los Angeles, California 90034
Thru Aug 20th, 2021 -
GALLERY ROUNDS: Shoshana Wayne Gallery
Group Exhibition “Above & Below”Fans of Los Angeles’ Craft Contemporary museum will enjoy Above & Below at Shoshana Wayne Gallery. The exhibition features twelve artists working in textile art, ranging from ethnic craft traditions to the wildly unconventional.
The show marks the Los Angeles debuts of Madame Moreau and Yveline Tropéa. Moreau anchors the traditional end of craft in the exhibition with Henry Christoph flag, a beaded ceremonial vodou banner depicting Haiti’s revolutionary war hero and king. Tropéa’s canvases too are covered in beading, illustrating abstracted people and creatures that suggest folklore influences. The French artist lives part-time in Burkina Faso where she has been influenced by Yoruba beading, and where she hires and trains women–disenfranchised kidnapping survivors of Boko Haram–as beaders. Similarly, Gil Yefman felted a bedspread size wall hanging in the show with Kuchinate, a craft collective of African women refugees in Israel.
Madame Moreau, Henry Christoph Flag, c. 2020. Courtesy of Shoshana Wayne Gallery. Photo by Gene Ogami. Textile art has a long history of dovetailing with feminism, placing value in traditional “women’s work,” as exemplified by Elaine Reichek’s Sampler (A blurred region). Sabrina Gschwandtner likewise draws on this history to pay tribute to early motion picture film editors, largely women whose names are forgotten. Her Hands at Work (For Pat Ferrero) Diptych consists of 16mm film strips sewn into two quilt-like patterns mounted on lightboxes.
The current textile art renaissance is also dovetailing with the LGBTQ movement. Transgender artist Max Colby’s assemblages burst with camp, sprouting phallic shapes covered in beads, plastic flowers and Christmas ornaments. These works find their closest kin in the show in a beaded and studded punching bag, Cloudbuster, by Jeffrey Gibson, a queer Cherokee Choctaw artist. Conical metal beads known as jingles–which adorn the dress of pow-wow dancers–cover the lower half of Cloudbuster, tempting visitors to punch it and make it rain, at least sonically.
Jeffrey Gibson, Cloudbuster, 2013. Courtesy of Shoshana Wayne Gallery. Photo by Peter Mauney. As well as beading, weaving is a prominent technique in Above & Below, with interpretations by Terri Friedman, Din Q. Lê, Anina Major, James Richards, and Frances Trombly. Friedman’s wall-sized tapestries particularly push the boundaries of weaving with riotous combinations of colors, textures, negative space, and hidden messages. One aptly says, “Alive.”
Above & Below
June 15-August 28, 2021
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Pick of the Week: Bridget Mullen
Shulamit NazarianThis month, Shulamit Nazarian is putting on two shows. The larger group show, “Intersecting Selves,” is an exploration of the overlap and tension between body, identity, and art. Many of the works are notable, particularly Life (2021) by Amir H. Fallah, …for souls…for soles…between the cuts, beneath the leaves, below the soil… (2021) from Ebony G. Patterson, and Julie Henson’s Between Reality and Theater (2021). But “Intersecting Selves” is not the Pick of the Week. Rather, the Pick of the Week is “Birthday,” an iterative collection of thirty-two paintings from Bridget Mullen.
At first, “Birthday” is unassuming; the twelve by nine inch paintings are hung simply in a continuous row about a small gallery space. But as you approach them, there is a curious flash of recognition, like what one might feel when you encounter a familiar stranger or an unexpected mirror. Through the abstracted fields of color, figures and symbols begin to manifest in the symmetrical patterns. This thematic use of symmetry redoubles this effect, triggering that basic human instinct to seek out such patterns.
Where there was once a miasma of color spread across the head-sized canvases, now there are disembodied eyes, faces peering through canals, and lovers melting into a shared embrace. Taking in each of them, one at a time, all in a row, is a hypnotic experience. They create their own cadence, and as one begins to recognize the repetition you fall into it without even realizing. That’s not to say that they are all similar; far from it, each painting is as distant from the next as the works in the group show are from each other.
And that’s the core of what makes “Birthday” a fascinating exhibition. Ordinarily, works which are presented in a series build off each other, uniting to create some greater narrative. But for Mullen, each work has its independent story. They are stories that are in the process of being told, but have been written long ago. Though they offer no resolution, yet they each weave a fantastic tale. These stories – these paintings – exist on the precipice of completion, in a dichotomic space between acuity and abstraction, love and loss, existence and extinction.
Shulamit Nazarian
616 N. La Brea Ave
Los Angeles, California 90036
Thru Aug 28th, 2021 -
Pick of the Week: Frank Gehry & Nancy Rubins
Gagosian[et_pb_section][et_pb_row][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_text]The pair of shows on view at Gagosian, Frank Gehry’s “Spinning Tales” and Nancy Rubins’ “Fluid Space,” are as dissimilar as they are masterful. Two artists, whose works are to be found in the halls of major museums and on city skylines, find in their works pinnacles of creative excellence and experience. They approach sculpture from vastly different directions and arrive at dramatically opposed conclusions. From medium to visual experience, “Spinning Tales” and “Fluid Space” are worth visiting if for nothing else than to see the breadth of an entire genre of art from two of the best to have ever done it.
Frank Gehry, primarily known for his architectural achievements, has been producing sculptures for just as long. In “Spinning Tales,” he returns to a long-time favorite subject: fish. Gehry has been producing smaller scale versions of the creatures for years, but in this show he dramatically increases the scope of his vision. The fish are massive, some four meters long and nearly three meters high, and carry with them a strong sense of motion which is familiar across Gehry’s work. They dominate the space, seeming to create a tide which pulls you through and around them.
While most are his traditional poly-vinyl with internal lighting, there are also a few constructed of copper, which seem to hold an opposite effect. Instead of producing light, they capture it. The copper scales of the fish glow with an other-worldly aura, at the same time inviting and entrancing. The works in “Spinning Tales” come alive when the viewer is present, else they are frozen in their cosmic dance.
Nancy Rubins’ works, on the other hand, are far from alive regardless of viewer. In “Fluid Space,” Rubins continues her career-long exploration of the reconstitution and transformation of found objects. For this series, the objects are her own casts from a previous series, “Diversifolia,” which showcased natural forms such as plants and animals. The old casts are spliced open to show seams and folds, open welds and scarred brass. The discrete elements are stitched together with steel wires, appearing like sutured shipwreck salvage.
Whereas Gehry’s fish dominate and demand, Rubins’ sculptures exist without intervention. They coalesce and support themselves, pulling and pushing their extremities and stretching against themselves. They are phenomenal – as in literally phenomena – much in the same way as an exploding star or earthquake. From moose horn to lion mane, “Fluid Space” will occur with or without us – so we may as well witness it.
Gagosian
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456 N. Camden Dr.
Beverly Hills, California 90210
Thru Aug 6th, 2021 -
Pick of the Week: Ernest Withers
Fahey/Klein GalleryThe gap between memory and history has never been more obvious than since the proliferation of photography. History presents a narrow view of our past: the highest achievements and the lowest atrocities – which can even be the same depending on the historian. What is lost in the extremes of history is the subtlety of everyday life; we do not find the small victories and micro-aggressions which populate the real memory of our lives. The vast majority of us will neither be fortunate nor unfortunate enough to be documented by historians, but we are still important, aren’t we? In a sweeping testament to the power of photography, Ernest Wither’s “I’ll Take You There,” on view at Fahey/Klein Gallery, reveals moments both major and minor.
Withers, one of the most prominent Black photojournalists throughout the Civil Rights movement, turned his photographic eye to more than just iconic figures like MLK, and worked to capture the intricacy of Black life throughout the period. The first room of photographs in the exhibition show places like dance halls and record stores. A portrait of the king and queen of Cotton Makers Jubilee (1959) is of particular note. The regal robes, the spotlight, and the satisfied smiles are testaments to a moment of brilliance in a tragic era of American history. It shows that joy and ease are as important to document as tragedy and pain.
That said, there are plenty of examples of the latter in the other half of the exhibition. Withers took photographs of pro-segregation protestors and heinous police violence that are tragically not far from the public imagination. The images of Black protestors wearing sandwich boards with the phrase “I AM A MAN” across from police officers wearing gas masks are especially familiar.
But there is another familiar sight in these images: the importance of voting. Withers documented dozens of these scenes. A student volunteer registering fellow Black Americans; dozens of Black men and women lining up following the Tent City Drive; a woman proudly holding up her voter ID. These small moments of the Civil Rights movement may not occupy the same space in history books as the March on Washington, but perhaps they should. They are more important to learn from, as they show what we all can do with our own small moments.
Fahey/Klein Gallery
148 N. La Brea
Los Angeles, California 90036
Thru July 31st, 2021 -
Pick of the Week: Off the Charts
Royale ProjectsI feel like most people would have a tough time imagining something more ideologically opposed to art than data analytics. Even the phrase sounds unartistic, more at home in investment banking than gallery houses. Art just feels too subjective to be encapsulated by the rigid world of sums and figures. But perhaps that’s the wrong perspective. In the Royale Project’s new group show, “Off the Charts,” we see a collection of artists engaging with how data can be encapsulated by art.
While numbers are objective, the visualization and illustration of them is far from it, and can take surprising and beautiful turns. Take, for example, the computer generated, two-toned painting from Ken Lum, The Path from Sanity to Madness (2012). A labyrinth, like all puzzles, forces your brain to act in a programmatic way. When you view Lum’s work, you become a computer working your way methodically through a maze from entrance to exit. Just like in life, you must find your way through it – though this maze in particular is much more easy than the maze of life.
Other works in the show draw not upon computer generation but upon the natural world, attempting to physicalize things we only know through the lens of data. Sway to the Sun: Motion No. 1 (2021) from Luftwerk is one such sculpture. The neon light, twisting and spiraling until shooting upwards like an out of control firework, is a visualization of the growth of a peppermint plant. All plants twist and turn to chase the sun and respond to wind and rain, but their slow development makes it impossible to perceive except through careful measurement. This sculpture freezes in place what is an otherwise invisible dance.
But others in the show are not so abstractedly related to our experience as dancing plants and computer mazes. The two works from Josh Callaghan, Apocalypto Ticket Sales by Week (2018) and Work Place Injury by Type (2008), are fascinating because of the divide between the minimalist beauty of the work and absurd nature of the subject. Particularly Apocalypto, which juts proudly into the space as steeply inclined graph made of red steel. Their titles being the only insight into their design, they call into question the pure aesthetic qualities of data visualization and the power of artistic context.
Royale Projects
432 S. Alameda St.
Los Angeles, California 90013
Thru Sep 30th, 2021 -
The Art World After ELI BROAD
Art Brief[et_pb_section][et_pb_row][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_text]Billionaire Eli Broad, who passed away in April at 87, was a giant of philanthropy not just in the art world but also in education, medicine and science. He was among the top handful of cultural benefactors in Los Angeles history—his footprint includes Disney Hall, the Grand Avenue redevelopment project, MOCA, The Broad museum, BCAM at LACMA, the Broad Art Center at UCLA and the Broad Stage at Santa Monica Community College.
Broad was the rare businessman who made two fortunes, one in real estate with Kaufman & Broad and the other with Sun America—an insurance giant. However, his true passions in life were art collecting and philanthropy.
He was universally described as difficult to deal with—to put it mildly. He began a long feud with starchitect Frank Gehry who he replaced because “he took too long” to build the Broads’ landmark Brentwood home (completed with Gehry’s design intact) and dueled with him over the bumpy construction timeline of Gehry-designed Disney Hall.
The Broad on Grand Ave. Broad was the principal founding patron of MOCA, helping to fund and negotiating the acquisition of the 80-piece Panza Collection (including multiple masterpieces by Rothko and Rauschenberg) at what was, even in the ‘80s, an $11 million steal. He was instrumental in bailing out MOCA when it faced insolvency in 2008.
He was criticized for engineering the 2010 hiring of a renowned art dealer, Jeffrey Deitch, as MOCA’s director (Deitch, who had a controversial tenure and got a bum rap when he was terminated, has made a spectacular return to LA with cutting-edge museum-quality shows at his gallery in Hancock Park). Broad also had a hand in the dismissal of MOCA’s highly regarded longtime curator Paul Schimmel—who did not get along with Deitch.
For years Broad kept the art world buzzing about what he would do with the Broad Foundation’s billion-dollar collection of 2,000-plus works by blue-chip artists that spanned the decades from the ‘60s when he and his wife Edye began collecting. The foundation’s collection was stored in a warehouse—those with connections secured a visit, though it was also open for school tours. LACMA seemed to be the ultimate beneficiary, especially when the Broad Contemporary Art Museum (BCAM) building went up on the LACMA campus financed with $60 million of Broad funds.
But Broad—“a control freak” according to Gehry— ultimately decided to build an eponymous museum adjacent to Disney Hall on Grand Avenue and across from MOCA to house the collection. The Broad museum was an instant success, with attendance quickly dwarfing MOCA’s primarily because admission was free. MOCA was soon forced to match that policy.
The Broads have been criticized for playing it safe—their New York-centric collection is heavily weighted with cornerstone contemporary artists including Johns, Rauschenberg, Lichtenstein, Twombly and Warhol, and with top artists from the Gagosian Gallery such as Koons, Hirst and Murakami. The paucity of California artists (except for Baldessari and
Ruscha) and works by light and space artists are glaring omissions.Robert Mapplethorpe, Portrait of Eli Broad, 1987 Who can replace Broad as the patron saint of California philanthropy? Probably no one. However, it’s important to note that the Broads were true partners in the art world and that Edye Broad played a major, if not decisive, role in writing the checks. As a leader of the Broad foundation, she will undoubtedly keep a sharp eye on the direction of grant-making.
At the top of the list of benefactors who could step in is billionaire entertainment mogul David Geffen—a major donor to such LA art institutions as the Geffen Playhouse in Westwood. Geffen made a $150-million gift to LACMA for construction of the new Peter Zumthor—designed building, whose galleries will bear his name.
The bull stock market of the last year has increased the fortunes of young tech titans, but they have been perennially disappointing when the time comes to actually pony up, with the exception of the not-so-young George Lucas, whose billion-dollar Lucas Museum of Narrative Art is scheduled to open in Exposition Park in two years.
The last time I talked with Broad was at a LACMA luncheon honoring Frank Gehry on the occasion of his retrospective. Even though they feuded, Broad was there to show his support—a class act. Eli Broad was a truly inimitable figure who has stamped his imprint on the City of Angels for the ages.
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Pick of the Week: Psychosomatic
Various Small FiresWhile painting may, in most cases, operate within the mind alone, sculpture is intrinsically connected to the body. Sculpture itself has a certain corporeality. The works aren’t abstracted onto a wall, but rather exist in the world among us. We are forced to reckon with their existence because we have to adjust ourselves around sculptures. To take them in, we have to navigate around them, walking around, over, under, or through them. The physical nature of sculpture and its broad array of functions is on display at Various Small Fires’ new group show, “Psychosomatic.”
Many of the works have an overt connection to the body, like Isabel Yellin’s Gut Feeling (2021) or Nevine Mahmoud’s Untitled (2021). Mahmoud’s work in particular is striking for its erotic posturing of a marble female nude, drawing on imagery found throughout Mahmoud’s other works. But most interestingly is the rough, unfinished edges of the otherwise smooth and polished form; they provide a tactile sense of craftsmanship, giving evidence of the ever-working hands of the artist molding the work. This craftsmanship is seen again in the workman’s table upon which the statue rests, a coarse pedestal for a classical medium.
Still other works deal with the connection between body, mind, and art in a more tacit fashion. Amelia Lockwood’s excelsis (2021), a ceramic work, is a colorful altar, inviting visitors to approach and participate in its ritual nature. The work possesses a certain auspiciousness, with its visual similarities to a menorah and highly decorative patterns. It sits powerfully in the space and demands attention. Lockwood’s work relates that religion, similarly to art, can act as a bridge between mind and body.
Finally, we come to the works of Kristen Morgin – some of the last seen in the show. Morgin, unlike Mahmoud or Lockwood, draws firmly from contemporary culture. Her clay recreations of children’s books and old DVDs, like the items from Claes Oldenburg’s store, invite you to take the sensations of viewing art out of the gallery. What would happen – to our minds, our bodies, or even our souls – if we were to look at a real used copy of Mr. and Mrs. Smith with the same awe?
Various Small Fires
812 North Highland Avenue
Los Angeles, California 90038
Thru July 16th, 2021 -
OFF THE WALL: Art in the Bike Lane
Los Angeles is a city best seen at 30 miles per hour, when its squalor and splendor even out to create a neutral grandeur; it’s at the slower speeds that our angels’ dereliction becomes evident. Pedestrians know this and that’s why nobody walks in LA—like the Missing Persons’ song. However, there is another method of getting around which combines the best qualities of walking and driving: bike riding. Thanks to forward thinkers at the Bikeways Unit at the Los Angeles Department of Public Works, there are bike lanes on the streets and dedicated bike paths away from vehicles. Because of Lewis Macadams’ promotion of the river as a usable urban green space, one of these paths parallels the LA River and has become a popular two-wheeled thoroughfare.
Photo by Anthony Ausgang In the tradition of motorcyclists, one can find both “lone wolf” riders and groups of all sizes on the river’s bike path. It’s not unusual to see ballers on crazy custom bikes with so many appurtenances they resemble Mod scooters and the occasional bike-powered shopping cart train. Since Street artists crave exposure, the number and variety of riders has proven to be attractive to sticker taggers, Graf painters, and agitprop wheat pasters. Thus, whether timing a ride between the Harbor Freeway and Burbank, or just taking it easy, an alert bicyclist can see an impressive array of guerrilla public art.
For years the concrete banks of the LA River have been a favored canvas for Graf artists, and while Saber’s massive 60 x 250 feet piece was buffed long ago, new ones are thrown up nightly. Up along the path, much of the renegade art is like that on the boulevards, but there is a genre taking the bicycle as its main motif. The artist “Ra” uses a fat Sharpie to scrawl his three-quarter profile drawings of bicycles and the phrase “Ride On” across the walls beside the path. Like most Graf artists Ra has a rival, and his work is often crossed out by an unidentified aerosol artist who sprays a side view of bicycles in the wild calligraphic style of Lettrists.
Photo by Anthony Ausgang Although the path is generally used as a route to get from one place to another, there is a group of people that live in the parkway between the Golden State Freeway and the bike path. They are a Darwinian offshoot of the overpass dwellers, managing to cross the bike path repeatedly without collision. Even so, the astute rider must exercise caution when passing through their villages, for this isn’t picturesque peasantry but a group of the disenfranchised and unwell. As such, they have their own specific artistic style: a jittery meth-addled Expressionist depiction of “the night before” stretched into the sunburned hours. It’s almost as rewarding to look at as it must be to make.
In the unsentimental world of Street Art, both the hysterical and the calculated eventually get buffed, so enjoy it today because tomorrow it’s gone. But the bucolic perseveres like the river itself, and on a graffiti-less wall near the LAPD stables, there’s a painting of a horse that returns the gaze of the observant cyclist; now that’s something worth slowing down for.
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Pick of the Week: Taewon Heo
LibertineThe silencing of protest is the hallmark of authoritarian governments. While often this silencing can be very bloody, the most effective form of violence is legislative. The fight for democracy in Hong Kong – and the accompanying crackdown – is a prime example of how State power is wielded more forcefully through legislation than law enforcement. China’s addition of the National Security Law to Hong Kong Basic Law, the de facto constitution of the quasi-independent area, is attempting to squash the will of the people in Hong Kong. The real effects of this law are still being felt, and are explored in Libertine’s new exhibition from photographer Taewon Heo, “Kill the Secret Cops.”
Taewon Heo’s photography does not explore the protest itself so much as the obliteration of protest. His photos are of Hong Kong protest signs, often graffiti, that have been painted over and obscured. The obfuscation is obvious – there seems to be little mind paid to being secretive about eliminating the subversive messages, and for good reason: the destruction of democracy doesn’t need to be subtle when it is legal.
The National Security Law, basically, allows Chinese police to arrest and extradite individuals in Hong Kong that they view as treasonous against the central government in Beijing. This law is intentionally broad. Pro-democracy political advocates and politicians have been arrested and disappeared into the Mainland; protestors and activists are being sentenced to years in prison; and, with the recent dissolution of Apple Daily, free press has all but been extinguished. The emptiness of Taewon Heo’s scenes emphasizes these broad eliminations of human rights. Humanity itself is nonexistent in the images, though their remains can be found under a thin layer of paint.
At the protest on July 1st 2020, police arrested protestors for holding flags, signs, or even phone stickers that displayed pro-democracy messages. Taewon Heo’s photographs of political violence illustrate the destruction of those messages, and how their absence can be powerful. Though the words have been destroyed, the message is clear: Hong Kong will be free. The protest never stopped, and democracy lives.
Liberate Hong Kong, The Revolution of Our Times
光復香港,時代革命
Libertine
6817 Melrose Ave, LA, CA, 90038
Thru July 9th, 2021