LACMA

LACMA has a new building which is fantastic for LACMA and just sort of OK for the rest of us. It is a large box shaped structure, hilariously sheathed in what appears to be rock dug from the same hole in the ground as that wrapping the Getty. The lighting is mostly from a sun harnessing system of one type or another which even at dusk works very well and seamlessly switches over to regular lights as we spin away from the sun each evening.

The stairway/escalator is placed on the outside of the building and there is a giant elevator in the center of the building, the shaft of which is visible and sheathed in a Barbra Kruger installation (Remember her? Nazi colors, pseudo propaganda that has been recycled by the graffiti artists/criminals du jour like Shepard Fairey and Spazzmat) the installation again challenges the “less is more” ideology, asking if less concept is actually more concept? The art and subsequent viewing experience at BCAM is so much better than anything LACMA had to offer before, but the structure’s content and it’s inception made me contemplate the nature of contemporary art collecting and the role of the wealthy in taste making and declarations of an artist’s importance. But that’s a topic for another lengthy and thoroughly researched review.

Let’s talk about art: I had seen almost all the work few years ago at Broad’s private stash in Santa Monica, and I must say that that it all looks much better in the new space. Unfortunately a Koons is still a Koons no matter how you light it. The work is a virtual who’s who, and a, who gives a crap of contemporary art, giving musty old LACMA some much needed relevancy. That having been said, seeing the work is like visiting old friends that have been telling the same jokes for the last 20 years.

Richard Serra owns the first floor with his giant rusty metal intestine/vagina/whatever sculptures. They definitely have the scale to impress, though I have enjoyed interacting with his other works outdoors a bit more where they have the feel of remnants of some ancient civilization with slightly questionable taste. The placard on the wall stated something to the effect that the sculpture is specific in it’s tolerances and measure down to the millimeter, but you will notice it doesn’t sit flat on the floor, so either it’s not really that exact or the building is off slightly (Ok, I’m nit-picking, but this is the type of stuff I notice) also enjoyed an oil stick piece of his hanging at a slight angle on the back side of the elevator shaft. (Wish I had taken a picture). I couldn’t figure out if it was created on a giant slightly angled piece of fabric or if it was hung incorrectly, or was perhaps even working it’s way off the wall and onto the floor.

John Baldessari’s work is still the most poignant; his blank-except-words paintings did the most for me. One is is emblazoned with the text: “Everything is purged from this painting, but art; no ideas have entered this work”. This acutely sums up my feelings of BCAM and most contemporary art yes, all of my feelings.

After 5pm they have a “pay what you want entrance fee” or lack there of, which I think is fantastic, the cost of admission for myself and a friend wound up being a buck, but only because we were feeling generous. I think they should alter the entire admission fee system to be “pay what you want-as you leave.” If a show was particularly interesting a person might be moved to pay more, not such a good show, you could walk right by the arrogant looking cashiers.

--Snowflake

Disorderly Conduct, OCMA

Disorderly Conduct, OCMA

I could say a lot about this show but here’s the short of it. It was an ok show over all, some of the work was great, most of it was acceptable, and a couple pieces were bad. This however, is usually the way that multi artist shows seem to work at museums. Over all, the work didn’t seem terribly cohesive but some was interesting. Then I started reading the placards and the statements about the artists and the curatorial direction of the show.

For a Show titled: Disorderly Conduct, the work seemed pretty predictable and in no way disorderly. Perhaps pieces lampooning Dr. Condoleezza Rice and the war in general (Karen Finley) felt provocative for the board of directors of a small museum in Orange County, but fails to bring up any points the rest of us haven’t already considered. The statement for the show claims the work is about conflict, war, violence, racial tension, urban strife and environmental disaster, which one might think would make for a grotesque, visceral, and perhaps even offensive viewing experience. The work however, while it does address these omnipresent issues, does it in the most orderly means imaginable, creating a feeling of the predictable and almost polite.

The show comes off less like the sum of its parts and instead like a bunch of parts lacking a summation. So I chose to view the show as a lot of individual works that just happen to be temporarily housed in the same location. Here’s my break down of the artists:

Robin Rhode’s digital animation is a quick read, which is unfortunate because it moves slow enough that one quickly loses interest but not before wondering why there was so much use of the Ken Burns effect from iMovie and longing for the aptly filmed pixilation of Jan Svankmajer instead.

Karen Finley got a chuckle out of me, just one.

Pilar Albarracin is the Spanish Cindy Sherman.

Pearl C. Hsiung, I enjoyed standing very close to her paintings, I wish they were abstract. I also liked the irony of her “Site Specific” installation which was small enough to be specific to almost any location.

Glenn Kaino deftly combined intrigue and disappointment with a very cool one-liner of a chess board piece and his apparently related “One Hour” paintings which I think was intended to illustrate the point that it doesn’t take long to figure out you are not proficient at something, or perhaps that we all spend a lot of time on things we should either give up or never show to people. His spinning rock and house piece is a great metaphor for missing the mark or just going around and around and never getting to the point. Which I think is what this show is all about.

Mike Kelley was interesting as usual and managed to get his own room (don’t miss it, it’s removed from everything else)

Martin Kersels knows something you don’t; you should try to figure out what that is.

Daniel Joseph Martinez takes up a lot of space with very little.

Rodney McMillian didn’t inspire me to write any notes.

--Snowflake

Are we lucky to live in Southern California or what?

For about ten years, while in my 30's, I ran from one museum to another, soaking up every detail of what I saw. I wanted to see firsthand the work of all my heroes.
I felt that looking at great art was as important as making it and that one required the other. I enjoyed looking at the work of the truly great painters more than looking at anything I was doing. Furthermore, my own paintings were hard work, so looking at these paintings became an excuse for not making my own stuff as much as I should have.

Then something happened and everything changed. Most of the work I was seeing just stopped having the same effect and just didn't look that good anymore.
So for the time being I decided I had seen enough. I felt I could learn more by studying my own work. Then paintings started coming to me easier and I was having more fun at it, so I stayed in the studio.

Then last Thursday I went to LACMA/BCAM. I was so moved by what I saw that I now feel I have entered yet another chapter in my appreciation of other artists.
Instead of comparing what I am doing to the work at the museum, I just slowed down and enjoyed. What a privilege to get to spend a day surrounded by hundreds of incredible works of art. The experience will inform what I am doing now, not replace it or be a source of envy.

What a total success the new layout is!
Chris Burden’s, "Urban Lights" makes you feel like you are entering a Temple or place of worship, which of course is appropriate. I really had my doubts driving by one day, before it was done, but now I am a believer. I can only imagine it at night! Jeff Koons, "Tulips" was ugly and garish but as I moved I loved the way when I looked into the piece the colored reflection in the mirrored surface made fantastic convex images like a fun house mirror. Charles Ray's Fire truck did little for me and I understand it will be removed soon because of damage from weather exposure. Robert Irwin is doing something interesting by trying to exhibit most or all varieties of palm trees.

I went first through the old buildings to see what had changed. The best change in the old buildings is the relocated American art wing. It starts with paintings done during our country’s infancy all the way to the present. All the work on this floor was shown with furniture of the same period. Great Idea. Others museums have done the same but this was done better. They found ways to keep the paintings close and not let the furniture get in the way. I am a total sucker for work done in the last part of the nineteenth century.

Right now art gets no better for me than Eakins, Sargent and Whistler. They lowered Sargent's "Portrait of Mrs. Edward and son..." so a guy like me can stand in front of it for fifteen minutes and examine every mark. The blood red walls framing Whistlers, "Blue Bonnet" portrait and Eakins, "Wrestlers" was brilliant. I was drooling. I enjoyed the chairs and tables from the period almost as much as the paintings.

Over to the Europeans. The Giacometti stand of sculpture was breathtaking with the lighting over the work creating a haunting scene of ghost-like images. Rembrandt, always a must see, never disappoints. Much of what is considered great work by Matisse still eludes me. His, "Tea"(though a great title) is a fucking mess and the only reason I can think of, as to why it is so revered, is that a lot of bad painters (who have most likely became curators or something other than artists) see it and it gives them hope.

Now...some lunch and on to BCAM. Wow...incredible!
A perfect way to display that kind of work, in most cases each artist gets his own room. Jeff Koons is growing on me in a disturbing way. In the past I have been almost physically sick looking at his work and now, somehow, it's like it's from an earlier time and has weight. Perhaps society has thrown so much stinking crap at us that his work now seems almost meaningful. I also noticed that Bubbles has 5 arms and hands, the origin of the fifth is uncertain.

I got to see many pieces I have never seen. Damien Hurst is a brilliant artist. The Kingdom of The Father is stunning! The idea of beauty in death strikes me as a profound concept in his hands. It's one of the most beautiful, and disturbing works, I have ever seen. It looks like a stained glass and the craftsmanship is second to none. This museums setting is ideal for his work.

Eric Fischl's, "Haircut" is a very strong painting. The effect of the forced light, though poorly painted up close, works really well from the vantage points BCAM provides.

How lucky we are to have this fantastic space so close to us all. Add to this the two Gettys, the Norton Simon, The Hammer, OCMA, all the galleries and the list goes on and on. I don't think the art scene is better anywhere else in the world. There is nowhere I would rather be than right here in the big So. Cal.!
Go enjoy-
--The Fish

A Day at the Broad

Excellent!
That was pretty much my universal response as I entered each gallery of Renzo’s house of art worship. Devoted galleries allow the viewer to become completely immersed in the work of each artist. And they did a superb job of matching the scale of the gallery to the scale of the artist’sbody of work.

The huge gallery space provided for Jeff Koons reifies the commercial didactic that is the intention of this artist (one has to love the security guard who is always present guarding his Rabbit).

And then there is Cindy Sherman (an artist whose work is dearer to my sense of aesthetic expression) who was provided with another large gallery where one becomes completing encased within her self-other portraits.

What makes this exhibition so successful is that seminal works are included for every artist shown. And in most cases there are multiple important pieces for each artist. There are too many names to mention, but a few of my highlights were: Damien Hirst’s butterfly wing stained-glass paintings (they look like paintings), Jasper Johns Flag (nice to see it up close and personal), Chris Burden’s oversized LAPD uniforms (possibly my favorite), Leon Golub’s large scale figurative works (again, surrounding you in a single gallery), and of course Serra’s Band (don’t ask why, just walk through them and submit to the aesthetic).

Only one standout disappointment was the display of Burden’s lampposts. I would have preferred if these had been integrated into a transitional colonnade that everyone would have to traverse while commuting between the old and the new museums: clustered together like an art object did not seem to fit with the social didactic that we have come expect from Burden. I hope that he would have preferred to have had these integrated these into the museum in a more subversive fashion.

Anyway, this exhibition nicely links many of the most significant American modernists with some of the more critically acclaimed contemporary artists of our times.

This is a blockbuster show in my book.

--ART