Collection: MOCA’s First Thirty Years
Museum of Contemporary Art
Right in time for its 30th anniversary, MOCA presents Collection: MOCA’s First Thirty Years, on view through May 3, 2010. The exhibition celebrates MOCA’s collection in a big way: more than 500 works by more than 200 artists. Collection also takes up a lot of real estate and is spread out between MOCA’s two downtown locations. This is why this inquisition will be dished out in two parts. Beginning at Grand Avenue with the 1940s and Abstract Expressionism, the show is organized chronologically. The show continues at the Geffen Contemporary with art from the previous 30 years (check back for part two).
Not only is MOCA showing its much bragged about permanent collection, it actually provides some informative/educational wall texts, or as close to informative/educational wall texts as MOCA would go. Throughout the many galleries, the curators have integrated quotations from the artists on display. The quotes range from remarks on art theory to explanations about artistic process.
The show is curated using several tactics. Two of these tactics were creations of suites of a single artists work, and another was the system of juxtaposing a series of a single artist’s photographs with a sculpture. This second tactics was my favorite and used twice with very successful results.
Suite no. 1: Rothko
The first suite of artist work was given to Rothko, a venerable chapel had been created for the massive abstract expressionist pieces. The curators also utilized temporary architectural elements to their advantage in this space (and throughout) to separate rooms into sections, but more importantly to highlight through framing particular works. This was used in the following gallery for a Pollock.
Savanna scene—Kline suite
The second major artist suite was organized for Franz Kline. I’ve never seen Kline hung in such a serial way. I didn’t particularly enjoy the suite because it began to look like a herd of zebra.
Forgot to snap a picture, Frank and Chamberlain
Then came a room which was installed using the second tactic: the juxtaposition of a photographic series and a sculpture. This one combined a series of photographs from Robert Frank’s The Americans series with the metal sculpture Rayvredd by John Chamberlain. Unfortunately I didn’t manage to snap a picture of this room’s installation, so I made a poor mock-up in my favorite program Microsoft paint. I like this room not just because I am insanely fond about Robert Frank (yes I own the expanded edition of The Americans exhibition catalogue) but because the combination of a multiplicity of photos compared to a single unique, seemingly irreproducible sculpture made me think on implications of media and display of various kinds of media.
Rauschenbergs large and small, this one, “Coca Cola Plan,” small.
This room was followed but another large suite containing MOCA’s extensive collection of varying and impressive Rauschenberg combines. The spacing in this room was effective in that it allowed for a consideration of individual works while still making obvious the trends in Rauschenberg’s work.
Works from “The Store” on the wall and on a stage
Another room that operated similarly in contrasting sculpture and painting was the room with the Oldenberg sculptures from The Store. These garishly painted works were mounted from the walls (like paintings) and set up on a kind of stage that separated them from the viewer’s space. The paintings in this room were Warhol and Lichtenstein. MOCA presented one of each from its own collection; both were in black and white. But full-color works from these two painters were also displayed, a Warhol Campbell Soup Can, and Lichtenstein’s I…I’m Sorry, both borrowed from the Broad Art Foundation.
Broadworks filling the gaps.
Wait a second; I thought this show presented works from the permanent collection, to the Broad collection! These two works filled a gap perhaps in MOCA’s collection. (A similar gap must also be in LACMA’s collection since these two works were also borrowed in the inaugural installation of BCAM).
Then came the long corridor. I’ve seen photographs displayed in this space before, but I sadly ignored most of them once I saw what was at the end of the corridor. The florescent bulbs of Flavin’s monument for V. Tatlin beckoned me to the end of the corridor; making breeze past what I’m sure was a treasure trove of photography. Flavin’s work really got me going.
Light at the end of the tunnel, Flavin’s "monument for V. Tatlin"
Once I was at the Flavin I realized I’d made my way to a kind of halfway point, since I’d been through half of the cycle of room at Grand Ave. There is a definite suggested route throughout these galleries, counterclockwise following the canon of contemporary art chronologically.
Unframed room
In another room were works all without frames, yes frames my other obsession. The works in this room were by Frank Stella, Bridget Riley, Jo Baer, and Elaine Sturtvant. All of the works were without frames, for various reasons. (I imagine it would be hard to find or created a frame to accommodate the curvilinear sides of Stella’s work.) All of these painting were humungous which made it hard for any one of them to dominate the space. This equality was created by the paintings’ demand for equal amounts of attention.
Shoe self-reflection, Smithson’s “Mirage No. 1”
MOCA aside from the major suites also created mini-suites of a single artist’s work. Two mini-suites were organized for Diane Arbus photographs and another for Smithson works. The Arbus mini-suite contained photographs mostly of pairings of people which was a selective decision on the curator’s part. The Smithson mini-suite showed the variety of media Smithson worked in, from sketches of spiral cinnabars to the row of mirrors hung at floor-level, Mirage No. 1.
I didn’t want to remove my shoes, so I didn’t go in, but I could have, and so can you.
The MOCA press release for Collection also mentions a series of special installations. One such installation was Doug Wheeler’s RM 669. A gallery attendant had a constant vigil to remind visitors to remove their shoes before entering the ghostly/heavenly space. Other light and space works were near by which were combined with finish fetish works. I had never realized that the two movements aesthetic both rely on perfection of execution to be really effective.
Cross-town connection, Baltz’s Industrial Parks
A series of photographs I didn’t ignore or rush by was Lewis Baltz, his series of structures from Industrial Parks near Irvine. The photos were familiar to me since I had just seen some of them at LACMA in the New Topographics show. LACMA displayed far fewer than MOCA does. I think I favor MOCA’s display because it is so much larger showing how extensive the series really was.
I saw, I smelled, but I did not taste
Another special recreated installation was Ed Ruscha’s Chocolate Room. I’m a fan of having my senses (beyond sight) engaged when I visit museums. I like hearing a work of art from rooms away and then gradually finding my way to it. Ruscha’s work engaged another sense, smell. The smell of chocolate wafted through the galleries leading me to the chocolate covered papered walls of Ruscha’s installation. It reminded me of Dieter Roth’s Chocolate Lion Tower that was in LACMA’s Art of the Two Germanys exhibition where you smelled the artwork before you saw it. Both Chocolate Lion Tower and Chocolate Room turned a chalky white once the chocolate began to oxidize in the gallery spaces. The gross white layer was the only thing keeping me from licking the walls.
Sexy room, Goldin above and Kusama below.
Another room installed using the tactics of photography series and sculpture combination was a small room hung with a fascinatingly sexy display of Nan Goldin photographs and a Yayoi Kusama sculpture. The work on the walls and the phallic sculpture on the floor made this intimate room feel scandalous, but in a subtle way that I enjoyed. It was probably the smallest room, and also the room I spent the most time in.
Mendietta Silueta Suite.
A final suite was organized for Eva Mendietta. The two walls of photographs of her her siluetas were the last thing I saw before I was scurried out the door at closing time. I managed to see everything (some things were more actually browsed) in part one of Collection. I must say bravo to MOCA for organizing this show (whatever the reasons). MOCA constantly brags about its monumental permanent collection, but rarely shows it. Well, MOCA finally is actually showing it.
- H.I.
P.S. Check back for part 2, the Geffen Contemporary portion of Collection.
New Topographics: Photos of a Man-Altered Landscape
Los Angeles County Museum of Art
LACMA’s New Topographics, which runs through January 3, is a recreation (but actually a curation of a curation) of a show that was originally presented in the Rochester New York at the International Museum of Photography, George Eastman House, in 1975. Apparently the originally show drew a limited amount of viewers: it was winter, and there was a lot of snow…The Center for Creative Photography in Tucson decided this show was so pivotal that they wanted to recreate it and bring the show to several venues, one of which was LACMA.
The show at LACMA was curated by Edward Robinson, but Britt Salveson probably had a lot to do with the shows incarnation at LACMA as well. Salveson was the director and chief curator at the Center for Creative Photography. Somewhere around the time of this show coming into existence Salveson was sucked up into LACMA and is now the head of both the Wallis Annenberg Department of Photography and the Department of Prints and Drawings. Check out an interview with Salveson here.
LACMA has spent a lot of time and effort on this show, as is evidence to the mini webpages devoted to each of the ten artists in the show found here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here. Further tribute to the importance LACMA now places on photography is the space that New Topographics inhabits. The second floor of the BCAM is half taken up by New Topographics, the other half photographic self portraits (this is the first time the whole second floor of BCAM has been all and only photography.)
The space is actually immense when considering the size of the exhibition. LACMA brags that the two thirds of total work from the original exhibition is in this reincarnation. This is an impressive number; however LACMA has two times as much gallery space compared to the Eastman House. Yikes, this means a lot of white wall. The many colored walls of Your Bright Future have been reformed back into the blinding white cube.
White cube diagram of New Topographics
Despite the several issues with labeling, and the issue of curating an already-curated show, I mush say I think the curator was very creative in dealing with the issue of massive space and a smaller amount of content. In some rooms this was done better than in others.
Room 1:
Rows of homes: Adams, “Mobile Homes, Jefferson County, Colorado, 1973”
This room was given to Robert Adams. A single line of same sized photos hugged two walls drawing the eye along from left to right. Several vitrines had an awkward presence in the room. These vitrines were there for context apparently, Ruscha’s Every Building on the Sunset Strip, and several other Rucha books were included to show how the design of these books influenced the exhibition catalogue of the original New Topographics. These vitrines seems like a bad way of filling an otherwise sadly empty room, and the things inside the cases were not clearly defined as not being part of the original exhibition.
I love you, but why are you here?--Ruscha’s “Every Building”
Room 2:
Modern city: Nixon, “Buildings on Tremont Street, Boston, 1975”
This room was very evenly spaced: two walls each for the two artists, Nixon and Gohlke. These photos weren’t in any particular dialogue with one another. I thought the Gohlke spoke more to the Adams in the previous room or to the Wessel in the following room. Nixon’s photographs of Boston were some of my favorite works in the show, clean and new and seemingly promising.
The Gohlke works brought up an interesting point about the information provided. The work below on the right had a caption which said the photo was taken in ’74, and that it was printed in ’75. Was LACMA bragging about having one of the original photographs? I noticed that the curators were irresponsibly inconsistent with providing this information and distinguishing the dates these photos were printed, and informing the viewers what was an original print.
Concrete Jungle: Gohlke, “Landscape, Los Angeles, 1974” x2
Room 3:
Freakishly Empty Los Angeles: Wessel, “Hollywood, 1972” x2
The Wessel photos in the next room spoke volumes to the Gohlke not just because they both featured barren Los Angeles Landscapes. These amused me for a while trying to figure out their locations, they are all so seemingly familiar, and also very nondescript.
Barren landscape: Baltz, “South Corner, Riccar America Company, 3184 Pullman, Costa Mesa,” From the series New Industrial Parks, 1974
Baltz’s work was also in this room across from Wessel. His series of buildings from industrial park in Irvine were clustered together in a grid in the center of the wall, which for a minute almost distracted me from the inappropriately high white ceilings.
Lying about their size: Shore, “Proton Avenue, Gull Lake, Saskatchewan, August 18, 1974”
The third photographer featured in this room was Shore. These photos stood out because they were the only in the show that were color photographs, and they were big. I was informed that at the time these photos were originally taken such large-sized color photos would not have been possible to print, so clearly these were printed more recently, a fact that LACMA curators did not point out. Nor did they point out the fact that they had changed the scale of the photos which dramatically impacted my reception of the work. Shame shame.
Room 4:
Not enough views to fill the space: Deal, “Untitled View (Albuquerque), 1974” x3
Deal’s many untitled views of Albuquerque attempted to flood an entire wall in this room, barely managing to fill the space. And then finally a successful attempt at filling the space. The curators attempted the same corner-hugging line of installation used in room one with the photos by Schott. These photos were all from a series where Schott documented Motels along Route 66. The crazy architecture of these buildings flows from image to image around the corner like following an arrow-shaped street sign.
Kicks on Route 66: Schott, “Untitled,” from the series Route 66 Motels, 1973 x3
Room 5:
This room was entirely used for the husband and wife team Bernd and Hilla Becher, artist nine and ten. The series of mine architecture and coal manufacturing plants were hung in groupings. One of the works in this room was from the original New Topographics (the tarnished silver frame signified this) was actually a series set into a grouping in the same frame. All the other works in addition to being hung on high, stark white walls, were also framed with in white frames. Oh the little details like frames!
Serial photos: Bechers, “Loomis Coal Breaker Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania, 1974”
After this last official room of the works from the original New Topographics came two other (what LACMA would say were) contextualizing rooms. In the one room with windows opening up onto Wilshire Boulevard were works by Smithson, Graham and my favorite Turrell. The Turrell piece was a sort of ephemera from his Roden Crater project which makes me go crazy whenever I think about it.
In the final room, which was a kind of screening room was the space created by the Center for Land Use Interpretation. On the far wall was projected a commissioned piece about oil and landscape with a bench set in front of it. Along another wall were two computers for viewing the Center’s website. Plastered above the computers where poster for some of the center’s previous exhibitions which looked like a college student’s dorm room. And obnoxiously there was another living room type space. I mentioned this in the Beuys inquisition were LACMA curators set up an awkward sitting area with cushy chairs and reading materials.
So final conclusions: The photographs in the exhibition spoke for themselves; there was no need for all the extra stuff that was supposed there for context. Sure there was a lot of white walls, but if the curators had just embraced the white expanse full heartedly instead of half-heartedly the installation would have been far superior.
- H.I.
The Wall Project
Wende Museum
Correction: MAJOR BOULEVARD CLOSED
On the night of Sunday November 8th the Wende Museum finally presented The Wall Project. The event commemorated the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. I’ve been looking forward to this event for months and months. I’ve been reading all the press leading up to it wondering what the final wall would look like, first the wall was going to be up all day long and then finally it was decided it would only be up for several hours. The wall across Wilshire ran across the boulevard right in front of LACMA’s Urban Light.
The event necessitated the closure of Wilshire Boulevard, so no big deal. The closer of one of L.A.’s major streets signified the divide between East and West Berlin caused by the Berlin Wall. Wilshire was closed for several hours, giving crews time to construct the wall across Wilshire. And at midnight that wall came down.
Wall across Wilshire
Also part of the project was the wall along Wilshire. This wall had been installed since earlier on in October and remained there for a few weeks after the main event. This wall was made up of ten pieces of the actual Berlin wall and is the largest section of the wall outside of Germany.
Sister cities
Official installation video:
When I arrived at the event people were surrounding this wall, in a way that surprised me. Large lights had been set up along the wall to illuminate it brightly. People were standing in front of the wall to take pictures, and the flashbulbs were going off like it was a paparazzi event. The whole scene reminded me of a red carpet, but I guess this is L.A.
Is this a red carpet event? I did see Sandra Oh there.
After taking some of my own photos of my friends it was time to go see the wall across Wilshire. This wall was not made from the actual Berlin wall, but was constructed out of wood and Styrofoam bricks.
Ost (East) - Side of the wall across Wilshire
...and West-side of the wall across Wilshire
On the front of the wall artist had created murals on the various section. Shepard Fairey, and other professional artists, as well as art students from several L.A. schools had decorated the panels of the wall across Wilshire.
Shepard Fairey portion of the wall, my hot little hands couldn’t resist
Thierry Noir was notably involved in the project; he was one of the first artists to paint on the Berlin Wall. Part of his work was featured in the wall along Wilshire, and he was also invited to decorate a segment of the wall across Wilshire.
Thierry Noir on the wall across Wilshire
The need for a bathroom dragged me away from the wall across. A private event for the Wende Museum was happening in 5900 Wilshire (the Variety building). Directly outside of this event a replica of a section of the Berlin wall was set up. Sharpie markers were provided for anyone to write messages or sketch doodles on this section of wall.
Wall comments
Some people simply signed their names, other wrote political messages. While I was standing in this crowd I realized that the majority of the people there were German.
This guy was probably German.
The festivities were starting (around 11:15) so I decided to head back to the wall across.
Germans and Non-Germans gathering.
Significantly more people had gathered, people of all ages, many were my age which was interesting since none of us were alive, or are old enough to remember the fall of the actual Berlin wall. This is why this event was so meaningful to me, because it served as an event to replace a memory of a historically important event I don’t personally have.
Seeing East and West / actually North/South
A documentary style video was on the TV monitors showing the fall of the original wall. Then the presentations started. Frank Mottek introduced all of the speakers for the night beginning with a broadcast from the mayor of Berlin, Klaus Wowereit.
Mr. Mayor live, all the way from Berlin
Tom Labonge from the city spoke and made some lame jokes about his efforts to get Wilshire closed off.
Then Ute Lemper was introduced. She certainly was something, but her speech about her experience living with the wall was very touching.
A real-life chanteuse
The chanteuse performer only had time to sing two songs before the wall was scheduled to come toppling down. A short while after midnight several people from the Wende Museum and some of the participating artists pulled down a central section of the wall. This central section was made up of Styrofoam bricks with a thin layer of paper onto which the painting had been done.
Wall across Wilshire, going, going, gone.
People starting throwing the bricks into the air, their silhouettes dancing created quite a dazzling moment. Then people started attacking the wall trying to get their own souvenirs. Opps the rest of the wall across Wilshire was supped to be auctioned off. I may have gotten a portion of the Shepard Fairey section…
Some cops were sent out to keep us from completely tearing down the wall.
A Sunday night extremely well spent.
- H.I.
Luis Meléndez: Master of the Spanish Still Life
Los Angeles County Museum of Art
LACMA’s current exhibition: Luis Meléndez: Master of the Spanish Still Life (on view until January 3) has traveled from the National Gallery of Art in D.C. and is currently on view in LACMA’s European painting and sculpture galleries (which are currently closed for reinstallation). The exhibition was originally organized by the National Gallery to celebrate its new acquisition of Meléndez’s work. Works from the 18th century Spanish master are on loan from many collections, including the Prado, the Louvre, the North Carolina Museum of Art, the Kimbell Art Museum, and a few private collections. The show at LACMA features 26 still lifes, one self portrait and an odd collection of kitchen artifacts.
What nice melons you have.
Because I knew the shorter route to the two galleries the show occupies I initially missed the introductory wall text, so I went back to the front entrance to go through the show the direction in which the curators wanted me to. The introductory wall text was set on a slab of a wall (on the back of which was hung Meléndez’s self portrait). A nice gold title seemed fitting for an old master exhibition. The wall text mostly sang the praises of Meléndez as a mostly-ignored master overshadowed by the formidable Goya. This show it seems is a way of rediscovering a forgotten master.
LACMA don’t you dare do this to the European galleries
The first thing I noticed about the galleries was the hideous treatment of the walls. Christopher Knight of the LA Times gave his opinion, as have other bloggers. And I am not alone in thinking that the walls are only ugly but also out of place in these galleries. The odd plaster treatment (which LACMA’s Unframed blog claims makes “new walls look old”) are distracting and look like a project on a reality television home improvement show.
My rendering of the frames, thanks Microsoft Paint
Once I was able to get away from the odd walls, I was able to focus on the numerous still lifes. What I noticed immediately was that most of the paintings had the exact same frames, gold with a pilaster-look and circles in the four corners. This frame was used on works from the various collections the exhibition was culled from. This made me think that most of these works came originally from the same place.
Something that made me aware that these paintings were not all from the same place was the wire partition set in front of only some of the paintings. The paintings that were “special” enough to warrant the ugly wire partition (same wire from Your Bright Future) were the works from the Prado Museum. The segments of wire were obnoxious—I felt that if any of the paintings were valuable enough to justify the wire partition they all should have had a partition, just run a wire all around the galleries. I wasn’t the only one curious about the wire, another visitor asked a gallery guard about it.
The Master Himself
The only painting that wasn’t a still life was Meléndez’s self portrait. The portrait was an amazing addition to the now seemingly generic still lifes. The self portrait was painted by Meléndez while he was still in school. It is hung in a way that makes it a real centerpiece of the show, behind the wall with the exhibition title and intro text. The portrait shows all the skill and technique required of a master painter, and the portrait shows Meléndez’s ambition and genius, which the exhibition claims were never fully realized.
I will keep making these diagrams until someone tells me they’re stupid.
The first room of the exhibition features mostly smaller works, and then the second contained both smaller and more extravagant tableaus of apples, grapes, watermelons, cantaloupes, etc. I did have an issue with the order that one wall was hung. Two works from the Prado museum, which a wall text clearly said “are probably pendants” were hung at opposite ends of the wall, with two large artichoke works dividing them. Formally the two works: Still Life with Pomegranates, Apples, Azaroles, and Grapes in a Landscape and Still Life with Watermelons and Apples in a Landscape look like pendants, and I was confused why the curators did not hang the works directly next to each other, there seemed to be no reason why the weren’t.
So, why aren’t these hung next to each other?
At the end of the second room are two display cases set into the walls of the galleries. Inside the two cases were objects like wine coolers, chocolate pots, and other vessels which can be seen in the still lifes of Meléndez.
Get it? That’s that thing in that painting.
Through some research I discovered that the addition of these objects was not LACMA’s idea, the curators at the National Gallery are responsible for the inclusion of the objects (however I still don’t forgive LACMA for the walls). I understand that the objects are there to illustrate the skill required of Meléndez to depict such objects in such a high degree of realism.
More stuff from the display cases
This display made me think; well if they’ve included the kitchen objects why not also include fruit from the still lifes in these cases. This is ridiculous I know, but I think included these objects is just as ridiculous. A visitor can see that the still lifes in this exhibition are extremely realistic, almost photographic.
Artichokes show the skill of a Master
The skill of Meléndez and this show as a tribute to a forgotten master seems unrealized in the size of this exhibition. While the collection of paintings from many collections is an impressive feat on its own, I thought that some editing was in order. Not all of the works in the show were Meléndez’s finest; the show could have been edited down to maybe half the size, with only the best of the works. Featuring only the best of Meléndez’s work would have done Meléndez more justice, especially when trying to convince an audience that Meléndez is an underappreciated and mostly ignored artist.
Christ in Limbo? What are you doing here?
As a final note, when exiting the Meléndez show one is confronted with LACMA’s Christ in Limbo. The work, while Spanish, has nothing in common with the Meléndez show. Christ in Limbo and two other painting remain in the chamber right after the Meléndez exhibition, they are remnants of the reinstallation of LACMA’s European galleries, but no other works are still on view, the curators should really remove the three works as they are out of place and starkly alone.
And please, please LACMA curators do not use the weird plaster technique on the walls in the European galleries once they are reinstalled as you have hinted at, save your money.
- H.I.
sixbeaststwomonkeys
LAPD Headquarters
New Kids on the Block
After reading all of the reviews and discourse in the LA Times about Peter Shelton’s work, I knew I had to scuttle down to 1st and Spring streets to the new LAPD headquarters see what all the hoopla was about. My mistake was two-fold: because I went at night, and also because when I chose to visit the new public artwork, it was completely surrounded by a temporary fence, which I think was installed to protect the setup for an inaugural event elsewhere on the headquarter grounds.
So I may have climbed up on a barrier to get this picture.
Seeing sixbeaststwomonkeys at night was nice in a way because all of the photos I had seen in the press were taken with lots of daylight. I think the sculptures really change at night. Anyone walking around downtown in the dark (no one but me is) should be creeped out by these eerie sculptures (especially the two “monkeys” which look to me like two crazy, long-legged Dali elephants). In terms of installation the works were surprisingly well-lit at night, in that awful municipal lighting that turns everything either black or yellow. Good for me the sculpture are inky black anyways.
Urban Light is so much prettier.
Each of the eight pieces in the procession of sixbeaststwomonkeys is placed on a raised platform. The eight platforms break through the long line of the stylobate-like steps that lead from sidewalk level up to the secondary pedestrian pathway. All of this space functions to distance the building of the headquarters from the street; this construction is all about safety. But I’m glad they used public art to beautify the space.
Is that your leg?—Oh no, it’s just a railing.
There are some things I did not care for in the installation of these works. Running around all of the sculpture are railings. I know these railings are functional, helping people climb the three measly step up, or helping visitors up ramps, but these railings really conflict with the sculptures. The skinny metal poles of the rails look terrible with the skinny legs of the “monkey” figures. The formal comparison the two skinny features is ugly.
Another thing I disliked about the installation was the spacing in between the parade of sculptures. Going south along Spring Street, all the figures were equidistant from one another, but the last “monkey” was drastically separate from the rest. This spacing was dictated by the service driveway that led up to the building, but it really divided the last “monkey” from his friends.
Driveway that ruined the spacing.
Finally my last issue with the installation of sixbeaststwomonkeys, and a major issue, is the way these sculptures are integrated into the landscaping of the site. Directly in front of every sculpture is a tree. And I mean, directly. These little saplings are fairly short at the moment but they will grow, and their foliage will get fuller. These plants completely obscure the sculpture from view!
Monkey hiding in a tree.
To be fair, the trees will probably be taller than the “beasts,” but the trees in front of the “monkeys” will completely overpower the sculptures, people on the street, even on the sidewalk won’t even notice the “monkeys.” My question then is this: Why spend more than a million dollars on public art to decorate a space, if you then go and cover it with trees?
I know there has been much debate over sixbeaststwomonkeys, and that many of the people who work inside the new headquarters dislike it (yes I’m making reference to the “cow splat” comment), but I must say I think these works nicely adorn the contemporary façade of the new building.
Too swanky for a police headquarters, or just swanky enough?
The uneven windows of the building rise up behind the Shelton’s figures twisting the eye upward. The “beasts” and “monkeys” of this work seem to function differently fro one another. The “monkeys” operate similarly to the windows of the building, twisting upwards, while the massive “beasts” anchor the work securely to the space.
I think the critics should embrace sixbeaststwomonkeys, and if they don’t it is not as if there are that many pedestrians in that area passing them anyways…
How could you not love this?—It’s so endearing!
- H.I.
Joseph Beuys: The Multiples
Los Angeles County Museum of Art
In case you forgot...
Continuing their hold of the top floor of LACMA’s BCAM, the Broad Art Foundation presents Joseph Beuys: The Multiples. A collection of 570 multiples (from 1963-1986) fills the east galleries on the upper-most floor of the citadel for contemporary art. Since the second floor is now a venue for temporary exhibition, it seems the Broad Art Foundation is especially concerned with maintaining their stronghold on the top floor, and since it has been more than a year and a half since BCAM opened, its about time that a new installation of Broadwork was rotated in (at least to half of the floor).
Entry / Image of the artist
Up the spider (the red, exterior escalator), and in through the colossal glass doors of the building…The first thing one sees is the Barbara Kruger freight elevator. To the right are galleries with more Broadworks, Warhols and Koons, and only one Baldessari left. But to the other direction, to the left, is the exhibition of Beuys multiples.
The first thing one sees is a rack with catalogs of the works in the exhibition. Honestly, to be up front about it, I think that looking through this nicely designed little book would be more interesting and manageable than this overwhelming exhibition. And then, Beuys confronts the viewer: an image of Beuys (on of the multiples in the show) is blown up and covers the entire wall leading into the exhibition. The title of the installation is superimposed on this large graphic. Yes this is an installation and not an exhibition, LACMA has made the distinction. What qualifications make something an installation instead of an exhibition are unclear.
The exhibition installation, was contained in six rooms, which are defined by the pre-existing walls. The plain white walls from which previously hung Rauschenbergs and Johns have now been painted a very, very dreary shade of grey. The color is oddly familiar, was it the same color used in LACMA’s Art of the Two Germanys exhibition, those crude metal display cases certainly look familiar from Two Germanys as well.
Diagram, thank you Microsoft paint
The introductory wall text explains several thing, it explains what a multiple is, and the history of multiples including Marcel Duchamp and his Boite-en-valise. Then came the rationale behind the organization of all those multiples, as well as some not-so-subtle bragging:
This presentation of the nearly complete set of Beuys’s multiples from the Broad Art Foundation is organized thematically within six rooms. The topics explored include Myth, Fluxus, teaching, environmentalism, political activism and the holocaust, and Beuys in America.
Each of the six rooms came complete with a title in white, an educational paragraph, and weirdly integrated quotes. The format was very thorough. And through all of the piles and masses of multiples, I looked always first for the paragraphs, to get some guiding hand through the many, many, many multiples. (Do you get the point that there are a lot of multiples?)
MYTH: the paragraph addresses the mythology Beuys created around himself, that he was a pilot in the German air force during WWII and was shot down over Crimea, and then was nursed back to health by the Tartars. Well that was educational. There was a LOT of stuff. Cases and cases, cases against the walls, lots of stuff hung from the walls, a long case (set on hobby horses) aligned along the hypotenuse of the room to allow for eve more stuff to be cluttered into the room. There was so much stuff, that really it was the odd piece that stood out. One such piece was Sled 1699, (which had its own descriptive wall text). The work was set on a short platform that required some very flattering squatting for closer inspection, and was surrounded by black tape so I wouldn’t squat too close.
Room with a view of Fluxus
FLUXUS and PERFORMANCE: This room had the same format of title and wall text. The quote that was integrated in: “Actions, Happenings and Fluxus will of course release new impulses which will, we hope, create better relationships in more areas”—a vague quotation. In this room were also display cases, posters, artifacts of performance art, photographs documenting performances. A major difference from the last room was the tiny video monitor set into a short little pilaster-like architectural element. Some simple dark wood chairs were set in front of monitor; you had to sit close to really see the video.
Stuff, stuff, lots of stuff own by the Broad Art Foundation
ENVIRONMENT: If I thought the previous two rooms were crowded, I had no idea what was to come. The Environment room was the most crowded room, absolutely stuff-full of things. There was very little blank space on the walls, there were so many things hung from the walls that it necessitated a completely separate diagram labeling all of the works. Some multiples from the same sets hung together, sometimes in rows, sometimes not. In this room were more of the wooden chairs (no video) just to take in part of the gallery. This room was hung like a Parisian salon; frames rubbing up against one each other. The work that separated itself from the rest was Hare Stone (1982, Basalt with gold spraypaint), again this piece was displayed on a short platform, but this time was partitioned off with metal wire fence (saw it in the Your Bright Future Show).
Between a rock and a hardplace
TEACHING in the F.U.I.: This was the sparsest room, seemed nicely relaxing on the eyes, especially after the environment room. This room was nicely packed in, instead of cramped, there was an ease of the packed-in-ness that did not exist in the environment room.
My obsession with seating, some wood chairs
POLITICAL ACTIVISM & The HOLOCAUST: more posters, more cases, more photos, same medium, slightly different subject matter. The thing that set this room apart was the almost feature on Braunkreuz. In the 1960s Beuys created this material called Braunkreuz, an opaque reddish-brown medium of paint mixed with other materials. Beuys marks his objects with crosses that allude to the steel cross, reclaiming symbols of Germany and Nazism. See, I learned so much from the paragraph in that room. Another video monitor and chairs were in this room in the same configuration as in the Fluxus room. There was a lot of education in this room, which was really necessary for this exhibition.
I had no idea how high the ceilings were
BEUYS in AMERICA: this room had an ease in the cramped quality of the space as well. This might have been because the objects hung from the walls utilized the height of the wall: some things high and some things low. A big banner was one thing displayed awkwardly up on high (like that one photograph in the Collecting History show at MOCA). In this final room was also a wall text likening Beuys to Yves Klein (French) and Warhol (American), claiming all of these artists created a artist-celebrity personality. This is a nice attempt to create a continuous flow into the corridor which leads to the west-side of the top floor of BCAM.
In the hallway are some photos and objects, displayed in a tall case, from a collaborative project between Beuys and Warhol, but no information in provided, how frustrating. A continual comparison was made between Beuys and Warhol, and then also to Koons. Two TV monitors with seating, two bookshelves full of books, and more upholstered chairs and a comfy couch created an odd domestic-like space in the cold sterile setting of BCAM. Continuing with the usage of quotes, the curators include one quote each from Beuys, Warhol and Koons.
At home with Beuys, Warhol and Koons
The west gallery on the top floor had been changed from its inaugural form, but only slightly altered and is still full of Broadworks. One wall was removed, which effectively eliminated the space that had previously displayed Baldessari, and now there is only one Baldessari left, on the wall which remains oddly alone in the space. The Koons had been spread out to fill the space. The space behind the lone wall is still only for Warhol: some works have been removed and tons more Kelloggs boxes have added, huge piles of boxes actually, created mountains of faux-cardboard containers.
It is great to see contemporary art in a space that was constructed to showcase exactly that. The Beuys installation is a fitting example of post war German art because of its nice connection to the Art of the Two Germanys show. But it also seemed like the installation was a way for the Broad Art Foundation to maintain its claim the top floor of BCAM as exclusive space to display their art. Also the wording of the text seemed to not-so-subtly brag about their near complete collection of Beuys’s multiples.
Some lovely "Urban Light"
It was also exciting to see LACMA at night, especially the space of BCAM, which is lit so different at night, it really is a must see. Especially when you get to scamper, swing, dance through my favorite public artwork in Los Angeles, Urban Light.
- H.I.
Divine Demons: Wraithful Deities in Buddhist Art
Norton Simon Museum
The “Fierce deities with bared teeth, flame-like tongues, and wicked expressions” of this exhibition are contained to a small concise space, but the show itself is rich and meaningful. The show is unavoidable because of where it is located. At the bottom of the staircase down to the Asian galleries of the Norton Simon, there it is: a nice little alcove of a space, nicely tucked away.
Can’t miss this exhibition
Only approximately 20 works make up the exhibition, most of them are small-scale and necessitate a closer, intimate inspection. The Norton Simon has also done an amazing job with the education of this show. There is a large wall text which nicely explains the items in the exhibition:
“These powerful figures also destroy demons and inner obstacles to enlightenment, such as greed and anger. Their frightening appearance belie the good deeds they perform in protecting individual devotees, monasteries and Buddhist doctrine…In the photo below, the Dalai Lama of Tibet, holding a ritual thunderbolt and bell, performs an initiation ceremony seated in front of a large appliquéd image depicting wrathful gods.”
This wall text was very informative, though some sentences were constructed awkwardly. The mention of the Dalai Lama seemed to be a reference to something from Tibetan culture which perhaps was somewhat recognizable the audience of museum. Along with the introductory wall text, every item in the exhibition had an accompanying wall label with an educational paragraph
Interesting to me was the color chosen in this room. The medium-tone blue paint was too-odd-to-be-a-coincidence similar to the blue-colored walls in LACMA’s Tibetan galleries. To be fare the color was located elsewhere in that level of the museum, but I’m curious as to why this color is so popular in being partnered with Tibetan art.
Blue on blue, nice frames
The museum has provided two small, wooden, yet comfortable benches in the small space. The only medium not present in the small exhibition was stone sculpture, but these works were displayed right outside this space, and were all very large. The show was focused on the close inspection of small intimate objects.
Show and tell of Buddhist treasures
The exhibition was strikingly symmetrical. The C-shaped exhibition was reflective on left and right. Along the right wall were watercolors and small sculptures. One watercolor was framed in a blue mat and ark wood frame, which matched another watercolor across the room which made me think that the works might have been acquired by the same time, or come from the same place.
It's in the details: flames and skulls, very rock & roll
The display case along this wall contained six objects. The objects are made from a wide range of medium, from different times, but all from Tibet. An accompanying diagram to the right of the case provided the labels for these objects as well as more educational information. This small case was like a treasure chest full of precious objects. The workmanship and the details were beautiful in this case, including the carving of a conch shell, and the small inlaid eyes of a skull.
Chakrasamuara: decapitated-head necklaces are so in right now
Another example of small scale details was in another small plexiglass display case. The small bronze sculpture of Chakrasamuara & Vajravarchi (China, lat 18th c.) invited close inspection. The wall text described in detail the gruesome nature of the details: “Each of Chakrasamuara’s four faces has a fierce expression, a fierce eye and a skull tiara. In addition he wears garlands of skulls and severed heads and in his 12 arms holds various attributes: a lasso, and arrows, as well as a thunderbolt and bell.” This description encouraged further investigation of the piece, were those really garlands of heads draped around the figures neck?—Why yes there were, isn’t that precious…
Mandala at the center of the universe / exhibition
This work led to the central (in terms of location) work of the exhibition. The Mandala of Chakrasamuara (Nepal, Kathmandu, 1648) is a large painting featuring the same demonic character as the sculpture directly to the right. Again, a beautiful description accompanies: “surrounding the palace are eight graveyards, separated by stylized waves representing rivers. These charnel grounds…” All of the wording of these texts is very vivid, and helps to explain not only what we are seeing, but also utilizing colorful language which achieves a grim effect integral to this installation examining violence and demons.
From the prop shop?—No, from the Norton Simon
Speaking of violence, the case to the left of the Mandala painting holds some sensational objects, which honestly look like props from a Hollywood movie. The case with ritual weapons holds a Ritual Staff or Club (Tibet 20th c.) and a Ritual Axe (Tibet 20th c.). These objects finalize and literalize the exhibition’s theme of violence.
Orange is the new white box
Among the hall of blue were accent colors. Three items were distinguished by their special mounting in the exhibition. A wooden ritual sword from Tibet, a bronze sculpture of Hayagriva, and a mask of Bhairara were displayed differently from the rest of the works in the room. All of them were displayed in specially made shadow boxes. The frames clearly had been made specially for this exhibition because they were made to look like they were attached to the walls permanently, and painted the same blue color. However, the accent was the orange color used on the interiors of these frames. But why the bright orange color? To admit the first thing I thought of when I saw the color in this context was that it was the color of Buddhist monastic robes (which could be seen in the images of the Dalai Lama in the exhibition). The orange accents did a lot to subtly highlight these works.
Diagram of back wall, thanks Microsoft paint
These objects fit nicely into the symmetry of the exhibition. All in all the small show was informative and beautiful, showing that even topics of violence can be beautiful.
- H.I.
Brian Eno: 77 Million Paintings
University Art Museum – CSULB
Seeing red
Fire-engine red is always a bold color, an entire entry wall and gallery painted red, is even bolder. The designers of Brian Eno: 77 Million Paintings chose to be very bold. When you open the doors to the University Art Museum at California State University Long Beach, all you see is red (and also two very large black velvet curtains). The only wall text in the whole exhibition is in this entry way. It describes Eno’s career in terms of being a music producer, but says very little about his artistic statement for this show. The following was included on both the wall text and on the exhibition pamphlet:
“[77 Million Paintings] challenges the notion that the artist must be in control. Eno’s work simply sets the trajectory for the work to evolve into patterns that have the potential for surprising him as well as the audience.”
The work has been seen internationally, including at the Venice Biennale and at the Luminous Festival in Sydney Australia. This is the first time the work has been seen in Southern California. The work also changes forms, and can be smaller in scale (as it is at the University Art Museum), or in enormous scale as it was when it was projected on the sails of the Sydney Opera house. The show at the University Art Museum, while small, fits the space and captures the dazzle and spectacle of its larger incarnations.
Sydney Opera House – Luminous Festival
Still seeing red
After entering through the black curtains you come into a large (red) room. The ceiling rose to a high skylight from which some natural sunlight came through. The room was full of prints from 77 Million Paintings. These images are the source for what gets programmed into the system of screens that make up the central work of 77 Million Paintings. Even those this is a small show the display is simple and smart. First you get shown the still images, and then you are shown those images in motion and set to sound.
Wall labels, very discrete
Only two labels (at opposite corners of the square room) were used. They said simply that they were all signed Giclee prints in editions of 50. The prints were hung all in nice polite rows, some were hung landscape and some were hung portrait, even though the works themselves could have been hung either way it wouldn’t have mattered. The one thing I did not like about these prints was the glass that was used in the framing. All of the prints had severe track lighting aimed at them. But the bright lit bounced off of the highly reflective glass and cast distracting glares onto the floor.
Halos of reflected light
Behind the first room was a frighteningly dark hallway (I started to feel like I was in a very artsy haunted house). In the hallway was a large pile of stones, according to the wall text it was actually a “cone of vermiculite.” Vermiculite, I discovered with some google-hunting is commonly used as an insulator and as a fire-proofing agent. The artistic use of the mineral was interesting. This first cone was lit from above (but very faintly) by a red light. The cone didn’t have any barrier around it, and it looked like it was looking less than perfect. Then while I was standing there a museum employee came out with a broom and swept the cone back into a more perfectly-conical shape.
Vermiculite cone, wikipedia it
This dark hallway lead to the main event. The sights and sound of 77 Million Paintings were installed in a long room. The room is so dark when you first enter you really have to let your eyes change to the darkness. At the end of the room is what looks like an ever-evolving stained glass window in a chapel. The window is actually the paintings, and the paintings aren’t paintings at all, but actually 12 video monitors of varying sizes which play images that are constantly changing and on random. The video screens aren’t the only thing in the room; several more vermiculite cones are lit from above in ever-changing colors.
Main event in this three-ring circus
Large low benches also populate the space. I hated this seating not only because they were ugly but because I was being lied to. In the wall text: “Seating in the gallery allows viewer to comfortably enjoy the ‘paintings’ for any length of time.” The seating was not comfortable, it was horrible, and sitting there uncomfortably made me get out of my seat after only two minutes.
"Comfortable" benches
I then went on my hunt for the sound. As always I’m obsessed with sound in gallery spaces. This is probably because I’m used to museums being very silent, but more and more I’ve noticed sound permeating through an exhibition space. The wall text, again, said that the sound came out of “strategically places speakers.” I think the speakers were more like obviously placed speakers. Once my eyes had gotten accustomed to the darkness I had no problem targeting out the exposed (ugly) speakers. I guess I found this shocking because the T.V. monitors are embedded in the wall which makes them hard to distinguish, and then the sound speakers were so exposed and obvious.
Painting # 64,212,865 of 77,000,000
Personally I didn’t like the installation because the seating was not comfortable, and therefore I didn’t stay and enjoy the morphing play of light and sound in front of me. I honestly enjoyed looking at the color on my friends’ faces change with the monitors most.
Who’s watching? It’s the money you could be saving with Geico
When I got home from the exhibition I did some more research about the sponsors listed on the exhibition brochure. One of them, Lumen London caught my eye. Courtesy of Lumen London’s fancy beta website: “Lumen (London) Ltd was incorporated in 2006 to produce and create Brian Eno’s 77 Million Paintings shows around the world.” Lumen also makes a nice little profit on selling the (signed) prints from the first room of the exhibition online. Lumen does have a very nice website however where they document all of 77 Million Paintings previous incarnations with plenty of images. The website is almost better the exhibition at the University Art Museum because you can see the whole range of possibilities for Eno’s work.
Stained-glass window
Below is a video of a public program with Brian Eno at the University Art Museum CSULB:
- H.I.
Permanent Collection – Korean Galleries Reinstallation
Los Angeles County Museum of Art
The Los Angeles County Museum of Art recently opened their new display of the museum’s permanent collection of Korean art. The new space, on the plaza level of the Hammer Building, is the largest space devoted to the display of Korean art outside Korea. The museum used the existing space (which was previously used for temporary exhibition), and made only small changes to the architecture. The space still exists as a cycle of rooms which are easy and pleasing to traverse.
After entering the double doors of the gallery you are greeted by an opening in the wall, which has been flanked by traditional paper windows, which are opened like shutters.
Highlighting loan pieces
The space showcases a loan piece: The Pensive Bodhisattva, which which is graciously being loaned from the National Museum of Korea. Also in the entry room is an approachable wall text which introduces briefly the historic periods of Korea that the works on display come from. It also explains that the galleries are organized thematically versus by time period or by region. This reminded me of the way the Getty Villa organizes its galleries, which I think they do successfully. On the left side of the entry way there is a large blown-up photograph of a Korean temple, if front of which is a long bench.
Room with a view
The galleries had the same cement floors that previously existed in the space, except in the entry room where new luscious hardwood floors have been installed. The walls were all a very clean white, which when inspected closer were not painted, but actually crisp rice paper.
The first room had just one object in it: a beautiful painted map of Korea. The map is also a loan piece, but when it was displayed by itself it served as a nice way to introduce the artistic region of Korea. Already it was obvious that the loan pieces were being displayed with great respect, and were highlighted throughout the exhibition. The National Museum of Korea loaned LACMA a selection of 26 artworks for the opening of these galleries.
The second room focus was on painting. The dimly-lit rooms felt warm dispute the cold cement floors and simple wood benches allowed the visitors to sit down and appreciate the paintings. Large landscapes were displayed on one wall, vertical hanging scrolls on another, and large scale portraits on the far wall. The way the paintings were displayed in correlation to one another I though was done in a very interesting way. There seemed to be an effort to not display things in a way that involved symmetry or balance.
- Painting gallery – screens & scrolls
The two landscapes were unbalanced, the hanging scrolls purposely hung to deny bilateral symmetry, and the portraits seemed to be hung left to right in descending order. On the fourth wall of this room was a display case with smaller scale paintings. The paintings inside presented a variety of the ways painting could be mounted, on silk, on paper, and even on long scrolls. A video screen even showed the entire scroll in the case unrolled. This video was only one of many in the galleries. The didactic videos never had sound and only short snippets of text to read. In the paintings room there was a video which showed how brush paintings are made and focused on showing technique.
A Queen’s screen
The next room had several areas. In the first area was displayed the “Women’s Quarters.” This area featured several painted screens which were conveniently displayed on the ground and on angles, to show how the screens actually functioned. Also in this room were glorious glass display cases containing luxury objects. Some cases featured only one object and some contained several objects that had similar utilitarian uses. The cases were themselves beautiful modern art objects glittering in their brand-spanking-newness. The cases were designed by One O One Architects, and fuse contemporary look with traditional Korean materials.
Utilitarian treasures
On the other side of the room more display cases contained a slew of objects like ceramics, tiles, and hats. I found the hats particularly interesting because they seemed to be the exact hats that were worn by some of the men in the portraits from the previous painting room. It was an excellent curatorial choice to display the actual objects is such close proximity to the painted versions. You had to go back into the painting room to continue on to other rooms, so the comparison and recognition of the objects in the portraits was unavoidable.
I just saw that hat
The next thematic room was what I assumed was the religion room. The room featured sculpture and painting. A longer video ran on another small discrete monitor which informed in a very subtle way the motifs and subject matter of Korean religious art. The inclusion of both painting and sculpture was very clever as it invited comparisons about the way the same subject, themes, and story are depicted in various mediums. Two sculptures were displayed side by side, and a formal comparison of metal and wooden sculpture was displayed.
Religious images, in wood and gold
Then it was onto to see the star of the exhibition, the loan piece of The Pensive Bodhisattva. The piece is here in America for only a few weeks, and when you view it, you will know why Korea wants it back so quickly. The sculpture is a masterpiece of the late sixth century. The gilt-bronze Bodhisattva was cast in a now lost technique, and is uncommonly large in scale. I noticed that there were cushions or pads in the room. They were left there after a ceremony in which monks came and blessed the galleries. The curators decided to leave the pads there for viewers to meditate on. Or a viewer can simple walk around the Korean treasure and enjoy it in the round.
National Treasure: “The Pensive Bodhisattva”
After this bright room was a dark room which featured works organized thematically around the art of the literati. Brushes and small works of calligraphy were displayed in one case. I did not stay long in this room because I was quickly courted on into the next room due to the fact that it was flooded with natural light.
Most beautiful room in LACMA
I’m not used to seeing natural light flood the space of a gallery, which is only one of the reasons why the ceramics room was such a treat. The exhibition designers decided to remove the existing wall, and exposed the large floor-to-ceiling windows that were behind the wall. In front of the window are five large ceramic vessels; behind them through the windows is the green of the bark and large planter boxes full of bamboo. This room might be the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen in an art museum.
Color-categorized ceramics
The display cases in this room were organized by type of ceramic. So in one case would be only blue and white ceramics made from Kaolin, in another would be only the jade-tone Punchong ceramics, and in another would be a collection of rich green celadon glazed ware. One case in this room also displayed a collection of lacquer boxes. All of them were ornately decorated in mother-of-pearl inlay. With all of these cases in the room the small differences were what matter, so in the lacquer boxes only small differences in decorative motif separated the boxes. The close inspection required to viewer to really look closely at the works on display.
Celedon glazed ware & Turquoise inlay lacquer boxes
In the last room was a really innovative installation of objects. The narrow hall forces a reflection between the grid-like contemporary painting with an innovative display case of ceramic shards. The shards are a selection from LACMA’s 850 piece Asakawa-Henderson Korean Ceramic Shard Collection. The collection was created by two Japanese researchers during the 1910’s and ‘20s. According to the exhibition’s press release, “LACMA is the only institution outside Korea and Japan to hold such a comprehensive collection.” The shards are displayed in a long case in a color-coded grid. The accompanying map is the key to the map, where different colors signify Korea’s eight main provincial regions. The educational tool is functional and really beautiful; a truly innovative way to communicate information to a museum’s public while still being aesthetically pleasing.
Asakawa-Henderson Korean Ceramic Shard Collection
The reinstallation as a whole is very beautiful, and not just because it is new. It shows that permanent collections can be displayed in creative ways that aren’t too theatrical or zany (like LAMCA’s Pardo-design Pre-Columbian galleries). The new display also proves that education can be displayed in a non-distracting way, and that giving the viewer to freedom to choose his or her level of engagement with the educational materials really is the best way to do it. I can’t wait to return to these galleries, because they are now my favorite in Los Angeles.
Comparison installation
- H.I.
Second Nature: The Valentine-Adelson Collection
Hammer Museum
Second Nature is a display of a selection of a large gift of contemporary sculpture. The works were produced from 1995 to the present. The opening wall text uses several catch-all phrases (my favorite) to describe the collection and the exhibition: “three-dimensional objects” (duh) in a “variety of media.” So the only think linking these works together is they are all sculpture made in Los Angeles from 1995 onwards. The wall text also explains the importance of the show is being “two fold.” First is a personal collection vision (important?), and second is a cultural legacy of contemporary Los Angeles sculpture (which is important).
I would like to give credit for the educators of this exhibition for doing the best job they could with the artworks they were working with. Not every work had an explanative text, but every third work probably did. Some of the works spoke for themselves, and for the works which did not, the writers did the best they could to make me believe these works were actually interesting.
Pedestal Inquisition: Greely’s “Weaver,” Benson’s “Figure 8” & Ruby Neri’s “Untitled (Lioness)”
The first room features works of various sizes and mediums, as promised. What struck me immediately was the various ways of displaying art. Hannah Greely’s Weaver, was displayed on a very low white pedestal. Next to it was displayed Jonathan Pylypchuk’s Guy Peeing in Heart Plant was displayed hung from the wall, resting on a simple, rough wooden pedestal, which was part of the work. To add to this assemblage of pedestals were the polished wood of Frank Benson’s Figure 8, and the garish, neon green pedestal on which sat Ruby Neri’s Untitled (Lioness). Both Benson and Neri’s pedestals were part of the artworks. The collection of pedestals was almost distracting, and I focused more on them than I did on the art in the room.
Sculpture not-in-the round: Curry’s “Fragments from a Collective Unity (Standing)”
Aaron Curry’s Fragments from a Collective Unity (Standing) is also displayed in this first room. The work is made up of two parts: a tall wooden abstract sculpture and a movie poster set upside-down against a wall. I have to say I was disappointed with the way the piece was installed; the wooden piece was set too close to the wall so a viewer could not walk around it or appreciate from all angles.
Concert Hall: Johnson, “The Pianist”
A nicely displayed work is Matt Johnson’s The Pianist (Designed by Robert J. Lang, and Folded by Matt Johnson). The large work needs a lot of space, as it is impressively large, and the space was given. It was set alone in an appropriately-sized room allowing a viewer to completely ambulate around the artwork and appreciate all of its blue folded angles, at all angles.
Color-coded room
A large room features several works by various artists. All of the works are unified in color scheme: blacks, beige, and some silver. The works include Evan Holloway’s Dichotic Sculpture, Sterling Ruby’s 2 Stacks of Husbands, Patrick Jackson’s Black and Midnight Blue, Evan Holloway’s Black to Purple, and Nathan Mabry’s A Touching Moment. The works are nice together because they invite formal comparisons. This can be done in peaceful, silent contemplation. At least until Dichotic Sculpture turns on. When it started making a horrible, vibrating, electric sound I understood what the ugly black cord connecting the artwork to the wall was for.
Plug it in: Holloway, “Dichotic Sculpture”
The normally pleasing sounds of Pachbell’s Canon started ringing off the metal cans and pots inside the speakers of the work. This elicited the following reaction from my friend: “We learned how to make speakers out of household items in my physics class too” (said with feigned enthusiasm). The sound was so assaulting on my ears that it made me forget my formal comparisons and I quickly left the room.
Karaoke Machine: Kersels, “MacArthur Park”
I turned my attention to find the source of more noise: the disco music which had been bouncing off the gallery walls since I entered the exhibition. (This reminded me of my previous visit to MOCA’s galleries were the sound from an artwork permeated through an entire exhibition.) I found the source of the disco and was disappointed to see it coming out of Martin Kersels’s MacArthur Park. Regardless of my disappointment, the sound permeating out of its ugly exposed stereo did draw me to it. I was glad to see that this piece was one of the lucky ones; it had an informative wall label. From the label I learned the piece mixed low and high forms of art (where the high art aspect was I couldn’t identify) and the piece was also a self portrait…
Literacy Test: Craft, “Untitled (Lazy Daze)”
Another work which I felt rightfully deserved space to circumvent it was Liz Craft’s Untitled (Lazy Daze). Viewers can walk around the piece and see all of the letters in L-A-Z-Y D-A-Z, with the E being chased off by a little creature. The effort in viewing the work made it briefly amusing, until I was distracted away by the less-then-amazing works displayed elsewhere in the room.
Swept into a corner & Up in a corner: Lapinski, “Nothings of Such and Such a Sort” & Rocklen
Lisa Lapinski’s Nothings of Such and Such a Sort was pushed up into a corner like a heap of trash swept up into a pile waiting to be brushed into the dustpan. While at the same time a work by Ry Rocklen was elevated up on high by a video projector aimed at a corner of the ceiling, placed like a forgotten spider web.
Small-Large-XXL: Greely, “Molly and Johnny,” Ruby “Monumental Stalagmite” and Meadows, “Untitled (Picnic Table and Beehive)”
In the following room was the best installation of work. It combined small approachable works like Hannah Greely’s Molly and Johnny and Paul Seitsema’s sneakers, with large-scale works like Sterling Ruby’s Monumental Stalagmite and Jason Meadows’ Untitled (Picnic Table and Beehive), and then also combined artworks that invited the viewer to interact such as Mateo Tannatt’s Turkish Kitchen (where the viewer was invited to don headphones) and Chris Finley’s Damn Mosquitos (which kindly requested in the wall text a viewer to use a flashlight illuminate the painting on the interior of a wooden box). The combination of small intimate objects, with overwhelming large objects, and also with interactive art objects made for an actively installed room.
Touch Me: Finley, “Damn Mosquitos” and Tannatt, “Turkish Kitchen”
The final artwork that caught my attention was in the last room of the exhibition, it was Paul Sietsema’s Rococo Room. When you approach the work you don’t know what to expect as all you see is a large black box. Only after circling around the object (thank you to the curators for allowing this space) do you come to a window in the structure to look through. Inside the unrecognizable structure is a luscious miniature Rococo interior.
All the remodel budget went into the interior: Sietsema, “Rococo Room”
This work was sticking to me because of its extreme attention to detail: from the tiny gilded stucco work to and the crystal chandelier. The work reminded me of another work I saw recently at LACMA. In the recent exhibition Your Bright Future, there is a work called Fallen Star by Do Ho Suh. These works both have a maniacal attention to detail and it was interesting to me to see that sculpture perhaps concerned with similar ideas was being produced by both Los Angeles artists, and Korean artists.
Echoes across LA: Do Ho Suh, “Fallen Star”
Leaving the exhibition I felt I did not have a greater understanding about what contemporary Los Angeles sculpture is all about. If there was a message, theme or statement about sculpture, I’m not sure it was communicated well. There is not really a curator’s statement since what is on display was not really of a curators choosing. Instead the statement made is the collector’s statement. As acknowledged in the opening wall text the vision is all the about the collector’s taste rather then an informed curator’s vision.
- H.I.
