Classic films, old bars and 19th century Romantic paintings are all fodder for Guerrero. Plus, Sanford Biggers at CAAM and Frank Gehry's latest in our weekly arts newsletter.
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â [Los Angeles Times]
[Essential Arts] PRESENTED BY THE PAGEANT OF THE MASTERS* If the heat has you feeling like a spent dishrag, then get on up by streaming the absolutely joyous [âSummer of Soulâ]( on Hulu. Itâs got music. Itâs got moves. Itâs got mounds of late â60s polyester. Iâm Carolina A. Miranda, art and urban design columnist at the Los Angeles Times, and Iâm here with all the cultural essentials: Western history through a distortion lens In Raul Guerreroâs solo exhibition at David Kordansky Gallery, you start at the end. Specifically with the word âFin,â which is painted in the undulating style of a cinematic end credit over an image of a stagecoach in the middle of a violent robbery. A man lies prone as if wounded. A woman pleads with a cowboy on horseback. Assorted bandits go about their ransacking. The painting may depict an end of sorts, but in many ways, itâs a beginning â an excellent primer on Guerreroâs attitudes toward his subjects. The piece, âAtaque de Una Diligencia,â 1995-2021, marries his eclectic interests: cinema, colonial history and the ways in which culture is mediated. âThatâs how we understand our history â as cinematic,â says Guerrero via telephone. âWe know it through media.â [A painting shows a film's end credits with the word "Fin" over a scene of settlers around a stage coach]
âAtaque de Una Dilgincia,â 1995 - 2021,â by Raul Guerrero â on view in the artistâs solo show at Kordansky. (Elon Schoenholz / David Kordansky Gallery) As with much of his work, it features a rich color palette and comes pre-loaded with a dose of absurdity. (The handsome lettering of the words hang like an elegant scrim over a scene of pure chaos.) The painting contains a mournful aspect too. As far as the European settlement of the West was concerned, episodes such as this did spell an end of sorts. But it wasnât for the settlers; it was for the the Indigenous cultures who lived in their path. Guerreroâs one-man show, âFata Morgana,â at Kordansky through the end of the month, offers a generous sampling of the sorts of images and ideas that drive this [long-time Southern California painterâs work](. Born in Blythe, Guerrero grew up in National City and lives in San Diego. His fatherâs family was Indigenous â Tarahumara or Apache, he says â while his motherâs relatives were descended from Spain and France. He occupied a hybrid reality in more ways than one: Like a lot of Mexican Americans who grow up along the border, he spent his life traveling back and forth between Mexico and the United States and inhabiting a territory (Southern California) where those realities overlap in myriad ways. âYou are going through these paradigm shifts and these different reality shifts,â he says. âThat inspires the imagination, simply because you are living in a shifted situation.â Now 75, Guerrero has never settled into one reality, and the show at Kordanksy â which features paintings from various stages of his career â reflects that. This includes paintings of food, bar interiors, invented historical scenes, canvases inspired by filmmaking and his appropriations of romantic 19th century paintings of Native Americans. One series was inspired by his journeys through South Dakota in the 1990s. Driving through the Pine Ridge Reservation, he hung out with a group of Indigenous women who had car trouble. This was followed by his own automative break-down in the Black Hills where he ended up in a joint worthy of a Hollywood Western. âThe first night I walk into this bar/restaurant/saloon and itâs 1990 and my hair is dark and Iâm Mexican ... and I thought, Iâm going to get killed,â he says. âThese men are all at the bar and they all have long hair and beards and they look like they are straight out of a movie. I realized that everything I knew about this place was through media â movies, television.â In the wake of that journey, he placed some of those faces in paintings inspired by the history of Western settlement, but also by Westerns. There are barroom standoffs and âWantedâ posters and Gen. George Custer getting shot with arrows. All of this is delivered in a deeply saturated color palette that Guerrero describes as âLooney Tunes.â Itâs an interesting parallel. The ways in which U.S. history is recounted can sometimes feel like a cartoon. [A salon-style hanging of paintings in deeply saturated colors show various Old West scenes like "Wanted" posters and saloons]
An installation view of paintings from Raul Guerreroâs âThe Black Hillsâ series, painted in 2021. (Jeff McLane / David Kordansky Gallery) A pair of paintings depicting a hot dog and a chorizo platter in sickeningly garish colors show an artist who likes playing with his food. (He crafts faces out of mustard and jalapeños.) They also serve as his observations on the ways in which food travels across cultures. âIf you think of Mexican food ... itâs chiles, itâs tortillas de maÃz, itâs carnitas, aguacates [avocados],â he says. âThese are all Indigenous foods. I find it interesting that itâs taken ahold of the society. Everybody creates or digs Mexican food. But what they are really digging is Indigenous food. âCould it be that Indigenous philosophy is spread through the food?â he asks. âThatâs an interesting premise.â [A painting shows a hot dog smothered in relish with eyes drawn in bright yellow mustard]
Raul Guerreroâs painting âHot Dog: The Weinerschnitzel,â 2006. (Elon Schoenholz / David Kordansky Gallery) What do paintings of hot dogs and the Black Hills have in common? Guerreroâs perceptive eye. These are works that are less about the objects than the ways in which they are perceived. The paintings, taken together, function as a humorous ethnography of our culture â the American one, the Mexican one, the Indigenous one and the ways in which they fuse and collide in this place we now call Southern California. âRaul Guerrero: Fata Morganaâ is on view at David Kordansky Gallery through Aug. 28; [davidkordansky.com](. ADVERTISEMENT BY THE PAGEANT OF THE MASTERS
[THE PAGEANT OF THE MASTERS](
The Pageant of the Masters returns with the magic of âtableaux vivantsâ (living pictures) now through September 3, 2021. This iconic, long-running Orange County tradition combines artfully costumed people, extravagant sets, and theatrical illusion to recreate famous works of art on stage in an outdoor amphitheater. The Pageant of the Masters is known around the world and has been lovingly parodied in pop culture by the likes of Arrested Development and Gilmore Girls. Watch art come to life! Order now and save 20% on select Pageant tickets when you use code LAT21. [Click here]( to order your Pageant tickets today. End of advertisement Art report At the California African American Museum, L.A.-born, New York-based artist Sanford Biggers [has a solo show]( âCodeswitch,â which explores quilting as material but also as a technique. He reassembles found quilts in ways that play on tradition. âThroughout the show, thereâs a sense of these additive moves being made up as the artist went along, rather than following a predetermined design,â writes Times art critic Christopher Knight. âThey radiate pleasure in the making.â [An angular, three-dimensional wall sculpture is made from scraps of quilts and pieces of American flags.]
Sanford Biggers, âReconstruction,â 2019, writes Christopher Knight, âis reminiscent of the folded planes of Japanese origami.â (RCH Photography)
Design time A 1960s bank building in Inglewood has been reborn as [a new performance hall and rehearsal space]( for the Youth Orchestra Los Angeles courtesy of Frank Gehry. Itâs a warm and unfussy 272-seat performance hall with 45-foot ceilings and acoustic design by Nagata Acoustics International. A handsome work of adaptive reuse, it helps preserve at least one aspect of Inglewoodâs profile at a time of rising rents and gentrification. âItâs not necessary to build a bright, shiny object that everybody looks at,â Gehry tells me. âThe programming and the effect on the community â that is the issue.â [An angled view of the facade of the Beckmen YOLA Center at night illuminated from within. Traffic streams to the right.]
Once a Security Pacific Bank and, later, a Burger King, a 1965 building by Austin, Field & Fry has been transformed into a permanent home for Gustavo Dudamelâs YOLA. (Myung J. Chun/Los Angeles Times)
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Performance notes At the age of 83, stage and theater actress Annie Korzen (âPen15,â âOliver Beeneâ and âSeinfeldâ) has developed [a new fanbase]( by speaking her mind on TikTok. The Timesâ Jessica Gelt sat down for an interview with Korzen, along with her pal Mackenzie Morrison, 30, who assists Korzen with tech and advice on how to stay relevant with the youngs. Reports Gelt: âBefore TikTok, Korzen thought she knew her fan base: âmiddle-aged or older college-educated people, mostly women, mostly Jews.â On TikTok, her followers represent all ages and a variety of races and ethnicities.â [Actress Annie Korzen stands in a shady garden and smiles while making a shrugging gesture]
Actress Annie Korzen is a technophobe who has nonetheless managed to assemble a big fanbase on TikTok. (Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times) The COVID-19 Delta variant is throwing a wrench into the theater communityâs best-laid plans. Taylor Macâs âJoy and Pandemic,â which was set to debut at the Magic Theater in San Francisco next month, [has been postponed indefinitely](. (Ironically, the work is set during the 1918 flu pandemic.) Berkeley Repertory Theatre [has also postponed its schedule]( â a world premiere of âThe Ripple, the Wave That Carried Me Home.â This pushes the theaterâs reopening to November. Pairings Sometimes reading a story becomes more meaningful after reading another that informs it. Iâve been enjoying artist Pablo Helgueraâs [newsletter]( âBeautiful Eccentrics,â which consists of erudite dispatches on a range of cultural subjects. In an essay published last month, titled [âUnelected Affinities,â]( he talks about how objects â including works of art that go unacknowledged by gatekeepers â can nonetheless turn into âthe signifiers of a period.â That essay shaped my reading of [a recent report]( by Times Middle East bureau chief Nabih Bulos. In it, he explores the one-year anniversary of the ammonium nitrate blast in Beirut, the third-largest non-nuclear explosion in history. It also leveled a set of grain silos at the port that served as improvised symbols of the countryâs resilience. âThey were like the pyramids, like the Eiffel Tower of Beirut,â artist Lamia Ziade tells Bulos. âEvery time I passed them, I would think how lucky we were to have this sentinel, these silos, protecting us.â A year later, they sit in a state of destruction and decay. Enjoying this newsletter? Consider subscribing to the Los Angeles Times Your support helps us deliver the news that matters most. [Become a subscriber.]( There are two other pieces I read recently that also offer interesting resonances. The first is the New Yorkerâs [recent profile]( of landscape architect Kate Orff. A founder of SCAPE, Orff and her team are known for devising nature-based designs to help mitigate the effects of climate change. Her ideas first came to wide public attention in the 2010 exhibition [âRising Currents: Projects for New Yorkâs Waterfrontâ]( at the Museum of Modern Art. At the time, Orff wanted to reinsert oyster beds into New York Bay â a process she referred to as âoyster-tecture.â Oysters had once been plentiful in New Yorkâs waters, but over the decades had been dredged to make way for shipping lanes. This removed a line of defense during deadly storm surges, such as the one that accompanied Hurricane Sandy, which made landfall in 2012. Back in 2010, putting oysters back in the cityâs waterways seemed like it stood a snowballâs chance in hell of getting implemented. But as the New Yorkerâs Eric Klinenberg reports, [that is exactly whatâs happening now](. [A view of the Brooklyn waterfront at dusk shows industrial buildings in silhouette and the waters of New York Bay]
In 2010, MoMA took a group of designers and reporters on a cruise around New York Bay to examine sites where Kate Orffâs âoyster-tectureâ might thrive. Eleven years later, some of her plans are becoming reality. (Carolina A. Miranda / Los Angeles Times) That story pairs well with [this beautifully illustrated report]( by my colleague Rosanna Xia, about how some California coastal communities are trying to re-wild beach areas, restoring sand dune ecosystems that function as critical buffers against rising sea levels. Currently, beach dunes are often âgroomedâ (a.k.a. raked and flattened) for the benefit of coastal development and beachgoers. Some scientists are saying itâs time to un-groom them. Together, both reports tell an interesting story about the ways in which the designers of the future may build: with oysters and sand. Essential happenings The Delta variant is making outdoor events more appealing than ever â and The Timesâ Matt Cooper has some good ones in his [weekly events round-up]( including a production of âThe Tempestâ at the Griffith Park Free Shakespeare Festival and a site-specific performance by the Heidi Duckler Dance Company on the Wallisâ outdoor stage. If you happen to be running around Koreatown, donât miss Gabriela Ruizâs installation, âGrounding, Prevent from Flying,â at the diminutive new art space LaPau Gallery. (Itâs in the same ramshackle, two-story building as Commonwealth and Council.) At LaPau, Ruiz has transformed the space â which is literally the size of a very large closet â into a riotous, color-saturated immersive experience that is a little bit like stepping into another dimension. Think of it as a mysterious trapdoor that leads to wonders beyond. âGrounding, Prevent from Flyingâ is on view at LaPau Gallery through Aug. 21; [lapaugallery.com](. [A close-up reveals hardened, plastic forms in strange shades of blue red and yellow, on which sits a piece of carved plastic.]
A detail of Gabriela Ruizâs installation at LaPau Gallery, a closet-sized space in Koreatown. (Salvador Lara / LaPau Gallery) Entering its final weekend is âIntergalactix: Against Isolation / Contra el Aislamiento," an intriguing group exhibition at Los Angeles Contemporary Exhibitions (LACE) organized by curator Daniela Lieja Quintanar, featuring work that explores borders of a physical and psychological nature. This includes compelling work by artists such as Beatriz Cortez, Tanya Aguiñiga and Cog*nate Collective. Particularly worthwhile is a suite of videos by Fire Theory, a collective of artists that came together in El Salvador and now operates internationally. This includes the beautiful and haunting âEl sonido del viento en las tierras de nadie (The sound of the wind on no oneâs lands),â 2020-21, by Melissa Guevara and Ernesto Bautista, which features audio of people discussing their motives for immigrating against images of stark desert landscapes, along with some poetic observations about the nature of those landscapes. Most riveting was an installation film by Bautista. âTeatro del desencuentro (Theater of Missed Connections),â from 2018-21, centers on the story of a group of young children trapped in a cage. There they discuss migration, violence, the American dream and have some intensely metaphysical conversations about their condition. âAre we dead or alive?â asks a squeaky-voiced child early on in the piece. [A film still shows a group of children lying down in a cage in a smoky penumbre.]
A still from Ernesto Bautistaâs âTeatro del Desencuentro,â 2018, on view at LACE. (Ernesto Bautista) Interestingly, this work of performance was not written by adults. The dialogue was inspired by a series of discussions and improvisations staged at a theater workshop with children in Tegucigalpa. Moreover, large portions of the video are filmed at angles that feel more like surveillance than cinema. It is surreal and unsettling â made more so by the fact that [child detention has not ended]( with the advent of the Biden administration. Bautistaâs piece is intended to be seen as part of a 360-degree video installation. But for reasons of space, it is presented at LACE as a single-channel video. Hereâs hoping some enterprising museum curator picks up on it and gives this theater of the oppressed the space and treatment it so richly deserves. âIntergalactix: against isolation/contra el aislamientoâ is on view at LACE through Sunday; [welcometolace.org](. Melissa Guevara and Ernesto Bautistaâs videos will be [available for viewing]( on LACEâs website through Aug. 31. Passages Hung Liu, an Oakland-based painter known for creating work that explored identity, migration and the Maoist culture she grew up in, in her native China, is [dead at 73](. This comes just as the artist opened a solo show at San Franciscoâs de Young Museum. In other news â A logical next step: New Yorkâs Immersive Van Gogh experience is partnering with a cannabis brand for [some special events](.
â How the new documentary, âThe Lost Leonardo,â [tracks the rise and disappearance]( of the mysterious âSalvator Mundiâ attributed to Leonardo Da Vinci.
â [A great profile]( of Ishmael Reed, the writer and satirist who wrote the play âThe Haunting of Lin-Manuel Miranda,â a critique of the founding father mythology that saturates âHamilton.â
â How museums are rethinking their roles in the era of climate change, [courtesy of new grants]( from the Frankenthaler Foundation.
â Speaking of climate: A [typhoon]( swept a Yayoi Kusama sculpture into the sea and Iâm imagining the countless cinematic possibilities of floating pumpkin sculptures in a Hollywood apocalypse picture.
â In South Korea, how one hospital has designed [a mobile, contactless COVID-19 testing booth](.
â Plus: Why isnât the COVID-19 vaccine card [designed to fit in our wallet](
â Variations on a theme: what the White House [could have looked like](. And last but not least ... Café Tacvba frontman Rubén Albarrán recently teamed up with San Diego band the Color Forty Nine on the song âWhat would I know? â ¿Yo que sé?â Tijuana artist Hugo Crosthwaite (who [I have interviewed]( in the past) designed the animations for their video and [they are terrific](. ADVERTISEMENT
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