Thanksgiving

The Thanksgiving holiday is over. I planned to be a little more productive, but I wound up relaxing, watching movies, reading, eating and drinking — all the time, musing on what I'm thankful for. Well, I was very thankful that there were no art openings all weekend. I missed Christopher Russell's book signing at Samuel Freeman's this past Sunday.  (I plan to buy the book.) I was instead, at a dear friend's father's memorial. Somehow that seemed more important (please don't take that personal Christopher). My friend's father, Eli Sercarz, was a man of great accomplishments. He was a scientist and renowned immunologist. He received many prestigious grants and was a professor and mentor to many students at UCLA. Many of his close family and friends spoke about his great contributions to society in the name of discovery and medicine. His research will go down in history and in the future, most likely, be responsible for saving and prolonging many lives. He touched many people's lives, yet he was a very modest man who was so gentle and kind when I would encounter him and his lovely wife at my friend's many family events. 

So, what does this have to do with art? Nothing. But it's what art comes from. And sometimes, we all need to take a break from the art world to take a deep breath and understand what is really important in this world. And this sadly, makes me angry at the art world, and the world in general. 

Since I was able to catch up on a little reading this extended weekend, I was able to take the time to read other sections of the newspaper besides the Calendar and Arts & Leisure sections. I read about our war in Afghanistan (ugh) and California's waning higher education funds, reducing enrollment for students by 40%. Both are abominations to our nation. I guess keeping America stupid is essential, so we can keep convincing America that our engagement in war is more important than education. And it's working!

After that dismal dismaying bit of reading, I found myself in the  Sunday Style section of The NY Times. I read about Madonna's Brazilian 22-year-old boy toy. He frequently gets DJing gigs of $15,000 a night. How can that be? How is that fair? That kind of money would pay half a teacher's wage in California. Does that sound right? It's all so fucked.

So, what does that have to do with art? Nothing. I guess I should not take a weekend off from art, otherwise, I might start having trouble seeing the importance of it all.

Here's hoping to having a new attitude when I take off for Art Basel Miami this week. I'm sure everything will be back in place. Our safe little world, with our safe bank accounts, all in place, ready to buy that expensive piece of art to hang over our expensive designer couch. Is that our contribution to society? Does that seem as important, like Eli Sercarz' contribution? There's no comparison. But, I know for a fact, Eli loved art and going to the opera and symphony, all which enriched his full life. 

The world is a big mixed-up place, and art makes it a safe retreat for me. But is that sort of like putting my head in the sand?

Who's afraid of Larry Gagosian?

The Jeff Koons show at Gagosian Gallery royally sucks. And the fact that LA Times critic David Pagel bothered to dig deeper in order to find something redeeming about these new paintings actually proves how bogus and dishonest and pretentious and superficial the art world can really be — on all levels, right down to the critic for chrissakes. Of course, it's his opinion, and being a critic, one has to believe he has made an earnest assessment of the work he is writing about. But Pagel's critique of Koons' new paintings is just too hard to swallow. 

He started off the review with admirable frankness, but then blew it when he decided to do an about-face. He took another look at these works and managed to compare them to Warhol. (Granted, Warhol pretty much sucked in the end, and Koons is frequently compared to him) In the end, he praised them for their genius (these are not quotes, I don't have the review in front of me) and his new view of the paintings was attributed to the fact that the gooey sloshes of paint were not actually paint on top other layers of paint. In fact, there were no areas in the paintings of overlapping paint! OMG! What a fucking accomplishment! Why does that suddenly make them great paintings? This is very puzzling to me, and it seems like Pagel just could not bring himself to call a spade a spade. 

The paintings are just plain bad. Also brought up was the minor detail that the paintings are not painted by Koons himself, and his masterminding of these paintings to his lackeys also merited high praise from Pagel. I'm afraid this is just getting all out of hand. Perhaps Pagel is moving with the times, when art stars like Koons get away with just going through the motions fetching big bucks for each work. Everybody's got a make a living I realize, and Koons just knows how to do it really well. But, why can't a critic speak up and say something? I say shame on Pagel for kowtowing to the art world, namely Larry Gagosian. 

 

Dirty as in Filthy

Went to the "Dirty Show," and boy was it dirty. And I mean as in the motel rooms were filthy. The exhibition was held in an abandoned downtown LA motel called City Center Motel. Every room had photographs of soft-core pornography hanging on the walls. There was a lot of black-and-white photography — trying to trick the viewer into thinking it was art. My husband and I discussed this. Of course it wasn't art, was my response. But why not? he challenged. And when or can pornography be art, and vice versa?

The old wag about pornography and obscenity — I know it when I see it — that's sort of the same response I have with pornography and art. Larry Clark's photographs have long been controversial because of its pornographic content. He frequently has images of large cocks of young boys, both flacid and erect, images of sexual acts such as blowjobs, gang bangs and car sex. The gang bang is hard for some people to take, as I accidentally learned when I featured Larry Clark's photographs (detail pictured) in my graduate seminar lecture some twenty years ago. The professor at the time was James Hayward and he still tells the story to this day. There is written text below the image: They met a girl on Acid in Bryant park at 6 am and took her home... . Hayward stopped the slide show on that image to rant and rave about the artist I was showing and how it wasn't art, but pornography. It continued in the elevator afterwards. 

I still don't think it is pornography. And Jimmy still thinks it is. I won't be able to change his mind, but there's no doubt in my mind. When I look at pornography, it doesn't strike me as art in the slightest. If I look at the Clark image, there's not a doubt in my mind that it isn't art. I know it when I see it.

I can go on and on about this, and I will be in my next issue of Artillery. So, perhaps that's why I'm blogging about this now. It's heavy on my mind. 

So, the "Dirty Show" wasn't that dirty, nor was it that arty. It was neither. It was a lot of soft-core black-and-white photography.

 

Chris Burden's Bad Hair Cut

Am I the only one that has noticed Chris Burden's very bad haircut? How come no one has said anything? How come my columnist hasn't ragged on it? Finally, today, was the last straw (no pun intended). There it was, in the LA Times. Those short little bangs, straight across (sort of) his forehead. Doesn't Nancy notice? Why doesn't she say something? I often wonder, when something as noxious as halitosis for instance, how does their partner tolerate it?

I realize he's a genius, but that's no excuse. Actually it sounds like a great punk band name: Chris Burden's Bad Haircut. Also, while we're on the subject of the LA Times, early in the story, Burden is 70 years old (that did raise my eyebrows). Then later, he is 63. I then looked at his picture, to determine which it might be. Was he 63 or 70? It was hard to tell. The bowl haircut threw me off. I kept thinking of Jethro Clampett. Even a slight part to a side would be an enormous improvement.

Other than Chris Burden's Bad Haircut Day, the new (old) show for MOCA's 30th anniversary might be something to look forward to. And the prices at Sotheby's were astonishing, which needs a bit more attention, but I'll leave that to someone better with numbers. Right now, I'm deeply concerned about Chris.

 

No Charles Shaw here (hopefully)

Finally got to see the new & improved Blum & Poe gallery; I was in New York during their opening weekend. Yes, it's a gorgeous space, and by space I mean cavernous, humongous, ginormous and all the other words that fit in that huge category. I don't know the square-footage (I'm not going to refer to their press release), but it just might be the largest gallery in Los Angeles now. I think Ace gallery held that title previously.

I understand the need for storage—which probably is half of their building, but I don't understand the need for two kitchens, unless some of the staff are required to cook for Jeff and Tim now. Apparently, one kitchen is for the "caterers." That's pretty fancy stuff. But, can't the caterers' kitchen be used by the staff when the caterers aren't there? Or are they part of the staff now? Honestly, doesn't that sound a bit excessive?

They also have a outside area designed for entertaining and elaborate dinners--that's when the caterers apparently come in to play. No more taco trucks for Blum & Poe. Of course, the tacos and Tecate were always for the hoi polloi, and we didn't mind that, really. At least they never served Charles Shaw--for that, we are thankful. So, maybe there will still be tacos and beer for us common folk.

But, in the end--the gallery looks great. It's beautifully designed. All the work looks stunning. It's a bit ostentatious, but I've never complained about an over-the-top venue for showing art. I guess, in the end, it's the two kitchens that bugged me.

Now on to the rest of the night. Bor-ring! I loved Samantha Fields new "fire" paintings though. There were multiple small paintings on maybe six by six inch canvasses, rows of three or four, covering three walls. She's concentrating on the fires themselves (not the surrounding landscapes of the disasters, like smoky skies against the horizons). It's really a California show, and Field's stories of hanging out with fire-chasers is a bonus to her experience. Check out the show, the paintings are irresistible.

And, check out the new Artillery. I love this issue, but I love all the issues. There's some good stuff--the lead story is about art in domestic settings, in other words, homes or spaces that people live in as well. Anne Martens is the writer, and we had to settle on spaces that double as living environs, which narrowed our selection of venues. It's a great story, and I talk about the history of such places in my editor's letter. Lots of subsequent dialogue has taken place, with a lot of nostalgia for the times of some great art that was spawned back in the day. Perhaps those days are happening again.