Posts Tagged ‘Ed Ruscha’
When I began writing this update to my previous post, I thought a list of bullets with links to the LA Times would suffice, but then I realized a crazy amount of MOCA drama has occurred in just over a year. At least Vanity Fair journalists who love to write about the LA art scene have plenty of material.
It’s easy to make accusations about MOCA’s obsession with celebrity considering the museum’s galas. Following Francesco Vezzoli‘s Lady Gaga gala in 2009, the museum hosted a gala directed by Marina Abramovic in 2011. The Abramovic gala drew the ire of some for being exploitative of performers who served as live centerpieces… Debbie Harry also performed, and the whole shebang culminated in Harry and Abramovic hacking into cake-effigies of themselves… Last this year’s gala happened on 4-20, and was themed appropriately – Cheech Marin attended and guests wore Hawaiian leis for some reason.
“Even though Eli is not involved with the museum any longer, his name is still on that building. We should have never called it a museum. How can LACMA have a museum? LACMA is the museum.”
– Lynda Resnick, LACMA Trustee[i]
In February 2008, the Broad Contemporary Art Museum (BCAM) opened at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA). The Renzo Piano-designed BCAM is not an autonomous museum; it is one of several buildings on LACMA’s museum campus (the largest American art museum west of Chicago).
LACMA was founded in 1961, when it seceded from the Los Angeles Museum of History, Science and Art in Exposition Park. The new art museum opened in 1965 with three buildings designed by William Pereira: the Bing, Ahmanson and Hammer buildings. In 1986, the Art of the Americas Building (then the Anderson Building) opened, and was followed in 1988, with the Pavilion for Japanese Art. The museum continued to grow when LACMA purchased the neighboring May Company department store building in 1994. (LACMA is currently collaborating with the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences to bring a museum to the vacant building.[ii]) In 2001, plans for a tabula rasa campus designed by Rem Koolhaas were scrapped due to its ambitious scale (all existing buildings would have been raised) and lack of public support (a proposed bill would have provided public funds for the project, but was not passed by voters[iii]). Then in 2004, the board approved a multi-year capital campaign called Transformation.[iv]
Michael Govan, Wallis Annenberg Director and CEO of LACMA, inherited Transformation when he took LACMA’s helm in 2006 (little more than a year before BCAM’s inauguration). Exciting, high profile, high-cost building projects are Govan’s specialty. Before coming to LACMA, Govan had been the director of the Dia Art Foundation where he oversaw the renovation of an old Nabisco factory in the Hudson River Valley, into Dia Beacon—a gargantuan facility capable of housing many large-scale, contemporary art installations. Before Dia, Govan worked under Richard Armstrong at the Guggenheim Foundation and aided in the realization of the Guggenheim Bilbao. Govan had the resume required to lead LACMA during Transformation. Eli Broad was on the search committee that lured Govan to LACMA.[v]
Museum of Contemporary Art
It’s been a long while since we (yes, the royal we) posted about a MOCA exhibition, which is sad since it was the museum that was closest to where I used to live in LA. A lot has happened since Collection: the First 30 Years opened not so long ago. MOCA is under new management, Jeffery Deitch from New York. Changes are afoot, and Deitch wasted no time organizing new exhibitions. The show is curated by (non-MOCA employee) Julian Schnabel, who like Hopper, is also a director slash artist. The show is, of course, Dennis Hopper: Double Standard. The show was being organized while the famous director/actor/artist? was still alive, but sadly Hopper passed before the show opened in the beginning of July. The show is presented at the Geffen Contemporary in Little Tokyo.
You enter the space down a flight of stairs and immediately see the ass of a large colorful sculpture of a man in a sombrero. This retrospective is not organized chronologically which I actually don’t mind in the slightest, the groupings are thematic or organized by medium. There is a combination of large-scale sculptures, photographs and other media in the first room—an introduction to all the kinds of media that Hopper dabbled in. As previously mentioned, the first thing you see is the ass of Salsa Man (2000) a massive pop sculpture of a mustachioed man holding a tray. You have to walk around the man to see him frontally which is the kind of curation that demands movement.
This movement gets visitors to the wall text, which is actually chalk full of information, but is still all the info provided for the whole show. Some things at MOCA will never change. Other than thanking the sponsors (duh the Broad Foundation, which doesn’t own any Hopper works), the intro walltext also gives a concise rundown on the works in the show. It explains Hopper’s interest in AbEx, how all but one of his AbEx paintings were destroyed in a fire, which begs to question: Where is this one painting MOCA? It also explains the gap in Hopper’s artistic production from the end of the 60s until ’81.
Salsa Man is paired with a sculpture on the same scale Mobile Man (2000), both face out away from the rest of the exhibition towards the large garage doors of the gallery space. This seemed odd to me, until I looked at photos from the opening reception where the garage door was open and people entered the exhibition that way. This enforces speculations about the purpose(s) of this show, is it really to promote this artist?—Or to be attendance booster? And what kinds of people (Hollywood types) is Deitch trying to get involved with MOCA? Regardless the garage space in interesting considering its similarity to Hopper’s mixed-use home/workshop space out in Venice.
The second room is dominated by Bomb Drop (1967/68/2000); I have no idea what the slash in the date is for (maybe it is a recreated piece) thanks for the explanation MOCA. The piece is very reminiscent of that Oldenberg Swiss Army Knife Boat (that wonderful prop). This is pretty much characteristic of Hopper’s work, it was obviously inspired by other artists, many of whom he was besties with. This room seems to be devoted to Hopper’s dabbling (yes I’m going to use this word multiple times) with Pop Art. A Coca Cola Sign (1962) hangs in this gallery. It is labeled as a “found object,” which begs to question the authorship of the piece, did Hopper even consider this one of his works, or was it something he had in his house that he hung on one of his walls?
The next two rooms, and my favorites, were all about photographs. The curators used the whole length of the walls and hung works on high and on low (much more stimulating than hanging them all in a row at the standard level). The photographs were clustered into themes: Pop Images, Civil Rights, Spain and Bullfighting (very Manet), Celebrity Friends, Artist Friends…Instead of having labels on the wall visitors were provided with laminated cards attached to a ring (kinda cheap) with all the info listed there. It was a fun game (for a while) to focus on one photo and attempting to find its label on the laminated sheets.
The most telling clumping of photos was the ones of Hopper’s celebrity artist friends. Present were: Larry Bell, Bill Al Bengston, Robert Irwin, Allan Kaprow, Craig Kauffman, Ed Kienholz, Claes Oldenberg, Ed Ruscha, and Andy Warhol. (Notice a lot of big LA names—who’s looking forward to PST?—I am!) This wall of famous artist friends is very telling about the kinds of people Hopper surrounded himself with, and makes a lot of sense when examining his artistic practices.
Following the two photography rooms, was a room with three humungous paintings. All of them were blown up versions of photographs from the previous room. The title work Double Standard (2009) was accompanied by Biker Couple (2000) from a ’61 photograph, and Rope (2003). I wonder if Double Standard was commissioned specifically for this show, it’s unclear how these works were executed, and whether Hopper actually painted them himself, or if they were just printed on huge canvases. No collection or other notation is mentioned on the labels for these works.
At the back of the gallery is a dark theater with seating where there is a selection of movie clips called “Excerpts on Freedom” edited by Julian Schnabel. It features clips from movies Hopper either acted in or directed: Easy Rider, The American Dreamer, Out of the Blue, Apocalypse Now, Giant, The American Friend, True Romance (damn that’s a lot of imdb links). This theater acts as a kind of footnote: oh yeah and Hopper was an actor and director. But wait, that’s what he is actually most known for, you’re trying to convince me he was an artist remember MOCA.
Another wing of the exhibition features additional large scale photorealistic paintings. Henry Geldzahler (2009) form the Met, and Lichtenstein (2000) no collection mentioned hang with Warhol with Flower (2004) from a ’63 photograph in the other room.
The exhibition as a whole was much better than expected, I thought that the curators might attempt to deemphasize Hopper’s influences (his artist friends) and promote Hopper as more original then he really was. The show is very honest; the writing is on the wall: in the form of Hopper’s portraits of his famous artist friends.
And now for your delight I present a complete waste of money spent shooting and editing a girl flipping through the Hopper exhibition catalogue. Really? Really! Is this necessary for any reason MOCA?
Oh and in case you missed it, MOCA has a blog. Who knew. The curiously titled The Curve looks like it is fairly old, but didn’t go public until fairly recently. And look they do posts just of installation shots (I’m sure a lot of work went into crafting this post). Now you don’t even need to go see the exhibition.
Oh Hammer Museum, I don’t expect your gallery guards to be able to discuss your art like a curator would, but I do expect them to be able to tell me why I can’t take a picture in certain galleries. When asked why I could not take a photo of Out of the Box, I was told, “oh well, this is a special exhibition.” Yes it is special…But isn’t this part of your permanent collection? “Uh no, um it isn’t.” Actually it IS gallery guard, the works in Out of the Box were recently acquired jointly with LACMA. When asked why I couldn’t take pictures in Selections From the Hammer Contemporary Collection: “Oh well it’s a special exhibition.” Yes it is special…But the reason why I can’t take photos in here is because some of the works are promised gifts not yet officially part of the collection. Maybe the Hammer should spend some time educating their gallery guards.
Now let’s discuss the summer shows at the Hammer. There is an installation by Greg Lynn, Out of the Box (editions of artists’ prints), a selection from the Armand Hammer Collection, and a selection from the Hammer Contemporary Collection. So that’s three shows/installations of permanent collection works, but I was only allowed to take photos in the Armand Hammer Collection installation. (I didn’t ask if I was allowed to take pictures of the Greg Lynn, it’s out in a public courtyard after all.)
Let’s begin with Greg Lynn’s lovely fountain. LACMA on Fire blog had a fun post about the kitchy work, oh and the blogger doesn’t have a secret identity anymore. (That blog somehow seemed more fun when it was a secret and when it wasn’t hosted on artinfo.) The spurting fountain is made from casts of children’s toys and is an apt summer installation. The work is looking a little dirty though and could use some cleaning, or the Hammer could just dump some bleach into it.
Next up is the installation of works from the Armand Hammer Collection. Yeah, he’s that guy that founded this museum. (That’s right LA, Broad isn’t the first collector to found his museum based on his private collection, oh wait, there’s also the Norton Simon, the Huntington, oh and the Getty, well hmmm.) His portrait bust is right there in the room, just like the creepy J. Paul Getty bust in the Brentwood center. I could swear I’ve seen this room installed this exact way before; do the curators reinstall it the same way every time? So much for enlivening the permanent collection…
The gallery is sliced into three sections. The first section has a row of Van Goghs and some other big name impressionists, and some Rembrandts. Interesting to note that there is no mention of Rembrandt in Southern California, an initiative of several Southern California museums to promote Rembrandts in their collections. Way to be a team player Hammer Museum. And of course the striking Singer Sargent portrait of Dr. Pozzi at Home (1881) is hung prominently in the first room, as the first work you see. Dr. Pozzi was a pretty sexy guy, and a gynecologist! I learned this fun little fact from the wall label, so yes there is some informative text in this installation.
The next room features a display of works from the museum’s Daumier collection: some great sketches and a slew of bronze caricature busts of famous Parisians. This room is a little dark, and I’m unsure why they displayed the busts in this overly theatrical fashion.
The last room has some smaller impressionist works flung together and hung closely on one wall. The other works are given a lot of space. All the big name works from the Armand Hammer Collection (the ones Ann Philbin decided to keep, not the lesser works the Hammer Foundation took back) are here. A Titian portrait of a man dressed as a soldier looks in need of cleaning, or maybe it’s just significantly darker than a similar work that hangs in the Getty.
Two Gustave Moreau’s hang in the last room next to each other: Salome Dancing Before Herod (1876) and King David (1878). These works are absolutely amazing, and you can get up very close to them (the gallery guard didn’t yell at me when I did) to see all the tiny application of bright white paint that Moreau used to achieve his sparkling lighting effect.
Now for the contemporary stuff. This installation is composed of acquired works (bought with that Da Vinci sketchbook deacquisition money perhaps) and promised gifts. The intro wall text thanks the Hammer’s “Board of Overseers for annual contributions to the Hammer Contemporary Collection acquisition fund and to several dedicated donors.” This is the third installation of works from the Contemporary Collection; was the second one Second Nature? No it wasn’t. The two earlier shows were this and this.
A lot of the works in the show come from artists who have been shown at the Hammer, whether in monographic shows, in the Hammer Projects series, or in Hammer Invitationals. No photos from this installation unfortunately, which means you have to go see it for yourself. I was really impressed by how contemporary most of the works are; many of them made in the last five years, and acquired by the museum soon after they were created. The Hammer is doing an impressive job at executing its five-year-old initiative to seriously collect contemporary works. Gold star for you Ann Philbin!
The last of the summer shows (that I’m going to discuss) is Out of the Box: Edition Jacob Samuel, 1988-2010. The collection of prints from the Santa Monica-based EJS studio was jointly acquired by the Hammer and LACMA. I wonder how this joint ownership works. (LACMA jointly acquired an El Anatsui work with another UCLA museum, the Fowler, two years ago.) The list of artists represented in this exhibition is a real who’s-who of the contemporary world; check out the roster below (click to enlarge).
Personally I found the majority of the prints really boring. A series of prints of the number two was less then inspiring. There were few exceptions, but this whole project of prints seemed very elitist and overly self-congratulating. The exhibition design was effective but obvious; to clearly separate the projects of each artist a funny paint job had been devised. Each artist project was demarcated by a band of tan paint that segregated each project from the others. The earthtone paintjob was only about two feet high, and was immediately recognizable as an organizational strategy.
Admittedly I may have been overly critical of the Hammer and its summer shows, but when everyone that works there is so damn smug about themselves I expect the best. Maybe it’s just a slow summer. I’m going to admit that prints are hard to make exciting, and to be fair a lot of the work in the Contemporary Collection installation is really fantastic and warrants a long visit. See, I can be mildly subjective.
Just to make sure you don’t miss any of this great and mediocre stuff here is a rundown of when these shows close:
Greg Lynn: September 26
Armand Hammer Collection: ?
Hammer Contemporary Collection: January 30 (you’ve got a while)
Out of the Box: August 29 (opps you’ve missed it)
de Young Museum
Across from the recently reopened California Academy of Sciences is another new building. The de Young Museum (part of the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco) looks like a beached and rusting submarine, parked awkwardly in the middle of Golden Gate Park. Vestigial elements of the old building remain; a pair of sexy art deco sphinxes mark where the old museum’s entrance used to be (a few hundred feet from where it is now).
Several of the museum’s collections are displayed on the first floor: Alaskan art, some contemporary decorative arts, Pre-Columbian, and modern and contemporary American painting and sculpture. Alaska art (mostly small crafts pieces) leads to the contemporary decorative arts gallery. This room contains a mixture of tacky glass pieces from the 80s (purple and teal color palette dominates), predictable pieces like Chihuly, and a Nick Cave body suite thrown in. The dec arts room leads off in two directions, one to the randomly linked pre-Columbian galleries, the other way along a window-lined hallway to the modern and contemporary galleries.
These collections are given the most real estate—allowing the large sculptures and paintings space to breathe without competing with each other. For example: even though Josaih McElheny’s Model for Total Reflective Abstraction (after Buckminster Fuller & Isamu Noguchi) takes up most of the floor in one room, a hanging fixture of burn wood, Cornelia Parker’s Anti-Mass, and Al Farrow’s cathedral reliquary made from ammunition are all given their due space.
Several rooms of painting later, was a smaller room with a special curatorial title and wallpanel. Photo / Synthesis features works by eight contemporary artists “who have explored various methods of assembling and organizing photographic images into multifaceted constructions.” Predictably Ruscha is included; in a series of parking lots, and of course Every Building on the Sunset Strip. I was surprised with how awkwardly the accordion book was displayed, it was even worse than how it was displayed in LACMA’s New Topographics. The form of book was completely denied in the de Young’s display, which was laid out in a ring standing up on its side. The display of Every Building that I think was the most successful was how it was displayed in a show at the USC Fisher Museum of Art. In a long display case that reached almost from wall to wall, the accordion book was laid out flat and almost to its full length.
I circled back to explore the Pre-Columbian galleries. Pre-Columbian galleries interest me especially since seeing the Jorge Pardo designed galleries at LACMA. (Look for a post comparing LACMA’s Pre-Columbian galleries to the Natural History Museum’s galleries soon.) Had I come out of the dec art gallery into the Pre-Columbian galleries, the first thing I would have seen would have been the dominating wall mural. This kitchy map of the world displays various flora and fauna, and seems more educational in function than artistic. The de Young sometimes has an odd way of connecting adjacent galleries with seemingly unrelated works. This map is one of those odd ways.
The display of the Pre-Columbian collection is fairly standard, other than being in a glass walled, natural light-flooded room. At the de Young wall cases, and free standing glass vitrines are light naturally, somehow making the objects more relatable and utilitarian, rather than simply being elevated to the level of an art object.
Little explanation is given for many of the objects, especially in the case of the Western Mexican ceramics. These objects are notoriously looted, and became popular with collectors especially in the early half of the 20th century. One of these ceramics even features prominently into an Alfred Hitchcock film. Similar like ceramic objects are gathered into vitrines, one has a cache burnished dogs in various activities, even including copulation.
Another thing that struck me about some of the Western Mexican ceramics was the similarity of works, with ones I have seen in Los Angeles. The female and male burial pair with odd geometric appendages is almost identical to ones found in the Natural History Museum. A figured with a white running geometric design is a twin of one in the Natural History Museum, and a triplet to another at LACMA. These “types” are so prevalent in collections, and yet so little is known about them as they are scavenged from burial sites with no archeological information known about them.
Other works in the de Young’s collection do have a lot of attribution, explanation, and even respectly present this information. One dim room contains a collection of murals from Teotihuacan from the Wagner Collection. The wallpanel is almost apologetic and therefore praiseworthy for its honesty and its explanation about museum collecting practices.
“Owing to the size and importance of the donation and ethical issues regarding cultural patrimony, the museum approached officials in Mexico to discuss a cooperative program of conservation and care and the voluntary return of at least half of the murals to Mexico. After several years of negotiation, an agreement between this museum and Mexico’s National institute of Anthropology was executed, providing for the joint conservation, exhibition and disposition of the collection.”
I am really struck with the honesty of this wall panel, and think that it should be seen as an example of the correct way to handle issues of cultural patrimony, and the transparency of the museum’s wheelings and dealings. Okay, I’m getting a little choked up about the walltext…didactics aside, the murals were in excellent condition, the color looks like it was applied days ago instead of the centuries ago that it actually was.
The last thing of note on the ground floor of the museum was a tiny little annex of a room which contained two mural cycles. The two murals, The Land and The Sea, were painted by Gottardo F.P. Piazzoni between 1929 and 1932. More transparency! The labels for these works say they are a “transfer” from the S.F. Arts Commission and the Asian Art Museum. The two, five-panel murals were painted originally for the Old Main Library, and suggested views that might have been seen through the walls of the building. The murals were removed from the Beaux Arts building when it was converted into the Asian Art Museum. The room in which they are now displayed “was designed to reflect the dimensions and arrangement” of the original location. I have a soft spot in my heart for projects like these since I worked a mural cycle, which had been removed from its original home.
The second floor has galleries reserved for temporary exhibitions, as well as the display of its early American, African, and Oceanic collections. A curatorial trend I’ve noticed with the display of African art is to introduce it with contemporary works. Both in L.A. (at LACMA recently) and at the de Young this took the form of an El Anatsui work. The massive wall hangings, which look like glittering golden weavings by El Anatsui are actually made from recycled metal liquor bottle caps. The works are made in El Anatsui’s native Ghana. The contemporary work which is still craft-based is supposed to related to the more traditional African works in the galleries like masks and ceremonial objects.
Across from the El Anatsui work is the intro walltext for the African galleries. More honesty and transparency:
“The museum’s collection of African art originated in the California Midwinter Exposition of 1894, when exhibits from “the colonies of Africa” and countries around the world were displayed in pavilions in Golden Gate Park. The objects were presented as exotic curiosities in a stereotyped, even racist, manner; few people saw them as works of art.”
It then explains how the collection grew mostly randomly from various sources and that the objects on display are “mostly traditional-based arts,” but that the museum hopes that it will “grow in multitude and dimension in the future.” This declaration for pursuing an increasingly scholarly and serious collection makes the collection more valuable to the public. It also seemed to be a genuine statement of redress .
Linked to the African galleries are the Pacific Island galleries (typical museum strategy for putting the “primitive art” next to one another. The de Young never uses the term “primitive” I should add.) The large wooden vitrines are massive and beautiful in their own right except they seem in desperate need of cleaning. Finger and large handprints were strikingly visible on the glass of the cases, and they seemed neglected. This bothered me mostly because the remedy seems so easy, grad some Windex!
The de Young also has an extensive collection of earlier American art installed on the second floor: painting, sculpture, decorative arts and furniture. One of my favorite installations of objects from the permanent collection was an installation of a slew of various chairs in a skinny corridor. This installation seemed Warholian, and reminded me of Warhol’s curated show Raid the Ice Box at the Rhode Island School of Design. Unlike Warhol’s exhibition, all of the chairs in the de Young display are well conserved, but viewing them like this in one line allows for a visitor to see trends in object-making and compare materials and craftsmanship.
Crowning the museum is an observatory tower whose top floor can be accessed by the public and allows for sweeping views of Golden Gate Park, and on less-foggy days amazing unobstructed views of the city. The de Young also has special exhibition space. The largest of these exhibition spaces is on the lower level of the building. The next post will be a review of Birth of Impressionism, a traveling exhibition of works from the Musee de Orsay.