Precious Contemporary Artwork Practically Invites Art Museum Newbies to Damage It

Pity the beleaguered museum gallery attendants who get assigned the shift to keep watch on the art installation by artist Carmen Argote at LACMA. The art in question is titled “720 Sq. Ft.,” and for good reason.

The title references the 720 square feet of carpeting ripped from the artist’s childhood home and displayed on the wall and floor of a high-ceiling BCAM space as what some might like to call a “sculptural object.”

About half of the artwork lies on the floor like a … well, like a carpet. This can cause confusion for some museum visitors, unsure whether they’re allowed to — or are supposed to — walk on the carpet (you know, the one that’s on the floor, as it were).

Sometimes for certain kinds of works, artists encourage or expect viewers of their work to physically interact with it — to touch it, walk on it, sit on it and so on. But not here. Not for “720 Sq. Ft..” Casually sauntering across the re-purposed and modified floor covering would amount to vandalism. It’s verboten.

The gallery attendants have their work cut out for them here, ’cause a lot of museum visitors think they can and should walk on carpet or don’t even realize it’s a work of art. There are many “Excuse me, sir”s and “Please don’t walk on the artwork!”s uttered in the cavernous white space where “720 Sq. Ft.” is on view.

These utterances are often spoken quickly, firmly but politely. But on occasion you sense the exasperation in the attendant’s voice and a curt and mildly-aggressive tone seeps in. It’s kind of #sad but a little entertaining too.

But take note: Encountering this adds yet another dimension to the experience of Argote’s artwork (though it may not have been intended). This makes “720” one among our favorite set of artworks on view at LACMA. 

Shocking: Street Art is Possibly Portrait of Late Iraqi Dictator Saddam Hussein

We recently stumbled upon some awesome street art work (see pic below) by the talented “Decisions and Review.” The work was wheatpasted in a back-alley (is there any other kind?) in the recently hip-ish Los Angeles suburb of El Segundo.

Never heard of El Segundo? Well, let us fill you in. It’s a respectable residential hamlet famous for being geographically surrounded by aerospace industry, oil fields, power plants, and LAX, as well as being the occasional location of ’90s-era rappers leaving behind their wallets.

There’s not a lot of street art in quiet, solidly middle-working-to-middle-hipster class “ELS,” or “the Gundo,” as some feral cafe-running locals like to call the place. So imagine our surprise to see some 100% Grade-A street art, the kind you see every five feet in NYC’s Lower East Side, in his staid LA burb.

But we’re burying the lede here: The street artwork in question, at first glance, looks like a colorful portrait of the late and notorious Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein.

“Now, why would anybody want to do that?” you ask, red-faced and exasperated. Well, chill your fucking jets, ok! It’s not a portrait of Saddam Hussein! It’s somebody else.

Who? Well, we don’t know. But it’s not Saddam! Look closely at the photo … The dude is playing an acoustic  guitar. Like when did you EVER see an Iraqi dictator strumming 12-bar blues on a six-string Gibson? You cool now? 

Anyway, massive shouts to Decisions and Review for all their beautiful work. Check ’em.

Bed, Bath & Beyond or Art Museum? You Decide.

Take a look at the photo below. Well, the answer is pretty fucking obvious, right? This colorful selection of curtains pictured below is at the Bed, Bath & Beyond on Pico Blvd. in West LA.

“No! I don’t believe you!” you exclaim with a healthy dose of culture-savvy skepticism tinged with seen-it-all world-weariness.

Ok! So we’re joking! You’re right. It’s NOT at BB&B, clearly. (And, take note, if it was it wouldn’t be at the one on Pico in West LA. We mean, c’mon … blech!) But, admit it, for a hot sec, we had you.

The curtain is in fact a sublime and subtly evocative site-specific installation artwork (<— BTW, that’s a bit of IAE … “International Art English”) at the Hammer Museum in Los Angeles. The work is titled “For Instance” and is by the artist Yunhee Min, and we love it. It’s the kind of contemporary art that not only invites contemplation but also searing, snarky jokes about how it could be on sale at Bed, Bath & Beyond.  

Breaking: Cats Like Espresso Too!

It’s all starting to make sense now. Upon seeing this cute stencil street art of a feline sipping from a coffee cup, a critical observation came sharply into focus: Cats drink coffee, too! Just like us humans!!! OMG! It explains sooooooo much about cats, doesn’t it?

And it may be that they just don’t merely drink coffee. They well may be discerning third-wave connoisseurs of the stuff, who if they had their say in the matter would order up a $16.00 cup of premium Yemeni Port of Mokha-branded coffee from the nearest Blue Bottle. Gee, that’s kind of awesome.

But we may be way overthinking this. Maybe it’s not about the coffee at all. Maybe it’s really about the the milk in the coffee. Uh … cats like milk, right? Ok, shit! Nothing makes sense anymore. Forget everything about cats liking coffee.

“Transparent Migrations”

The LACMA exhibition “Home – So Different, So Appealing” is turning into something of a landmark show with all the buzz from critics and patrons alike. The exhibition features a sprawling collection of artwork from Latin American and Latino artists since the 1950s to the present. As the shows title suggests, it explores themes of home, aspirations and identity,  as the collection reveals, it’s in the context of immigration, socio-economic hardship,  and the personal bi-cultural experiences that come with migration and transience. Contemporary art figures prominently. There are many art-installation pieces and many worthy of attention. One of the more striking and evocative works is “Transparent Migrations” (2001) by the American Latina and Californian artist Amalia Mesa-Bains, who is now in her seventies. The work is beautifully mysterious and sublime shrine.