Last night the Hammer Museum presented a conversation between John Baldessari, “conceptual artist,” and Christopher Knight, art critic for the LA Times (among other things).  Baldessari came off imminently likable and immensely quotable and left me with many ideas to ponder.  A recurring theme, obvious to anyone who knows Baldessari’s work, was what makes art Art, and what and where the art exists.  In his use of painterly and photographic tools, the artist has worked through these ideas physically and mentally throughout his career.  One of the more interesting statements he made was actually something once stated to him as the speaker entered his studio to find books and magazines bearing works of art and theories surrounding his work-space, “oh, so you import your culture.”  Baldessari grew up in National City where he wasn’t exposed physically to art and his early paintings included text written by a local sign painter.  He and Chris Knight pondered the importance of being exposed to the real works of art later in the discussion and another lovely quote arose, “a lot of art gets done by students who are just looking at reproductions; a lot of art gets done by art being misunderstood.”  Knight brought up technology and internet access to great works as expanding this phenomena but fell short of really heading into a discussion of authenticity and aura in art.

Of course this makes me think of many contemporary photographers, notably the Starn twins who I mentioned in my last blog, and Joel Peter Witkin, who are influenced by and even utilize in whole, the iconic images of western art history in their work.  This dimensionalizing of images, and focus on the fact or myth of reproduceability has certainly been a common thematic trajectory for fine art photographers in the late 20th century.  Baldessari himself considered these ideas in his photographic work, as he says, trying to understand why photography and art has different histories and trying to understand what made something art (as he puts it, “it had to have canvas and stretcher bars,” and later “it had to be done by the artist.”).  These are complex ideas, not light things, and Baldessari himself plays with them rather than espousing them.  On the one hand, he felt at a point that art had to be done by the artist, while at the same time he was employing a sign-painter to execute his conceptual works and for other pieces he heavily incorporated found imagery into his painting (or, hesitant to call himself a painter, his post-studio work).  The question is not only, what and is there an aura of the artist’s hand in anauthentic work of art, but also whether and what the ubiquity of reproduced imagery has done to art making today?

The conversation brought up a lot of big issues in brief segments, Knight and Baldessari only spoke for one hour, and Knight was clearly trying to give an overview of the full 30 year time period of Baldessari’s work, from the 50s through the 70s.  Another of the important topics they glossed was the role of money and the marketplace in art.  A quote that was all over twitter immediately following the talk was, “there should be a new dating system for art, Before Money, and After Money.”  In this case, the 0 year being sometime in the late 70s or early 80s.  Baldessari brought this up directly after positing that the tipping point for California art came with the students from CA schools deciding to stay and not flee to the art mecca of New York.  His claim being that this greater talent pool staying in Los Angeles brought an influx of galleries to sell their work.  This is the reverse of anything I would think; my impulse would be to attribute the expansion of the gallery network in Los Angeles to the great growth of creatives with money from the entertainment industry who were looking to adorn their sprawling homes with contemporary art works, and these more local galleries being a draw for artists to end up staying in town rather than needing to head east to develop representation.  I guess in the end it is a bit of a chicken and the egg discussion, do patrons inspire a market which inspires artists, or do artists inspire a market which inspires patrons?  No matter which way it goes, however, clearly something happened during that period on the west coast where the legitimization of the arts here through the development of not only a marketplace but also funded arts institutions, allowed artists to stay and flourish and inspire and change the face and history of Los Angeles for artists that followed.

Two more little quotes from Baldessari bear repeating today.  Asked about the “occupy” protests and what he thinks, the artist was interested but less than enthusiastic about the outcome, saying “I’m reminded of the late 60’s, when we thought the world would change.  It didn’t.  Now there is that discontent again.”  When Knight expanded the question to ask what role artists might play in civil movements, Baldessari responded a little more hopefully, saying, “art does change things–it may be preaching to the converted, but it can surreptitiously worm its way into people’s unconscious… in that way it can have an effect.”  Again, this is one of those concepts that I keep coming back to in this blog, how art can change people and that in order to do so, it must find an “in” with the viewer, be it through beauty, through masquerading behind mass culture, or by catching one unaware in a moment of openness and reflection.  Some of the most political art, however, is meant to shock the viewer and to confront them with an idea or image that is uncomfortable or disgusting, and I truly wonder whether this kind of work can have any effect to those uninitiated when all it makes them really do is turn away?

The conversation ended with a question about what inspires the great artist, he responded, “everything inspires me – a chance comment behind me on an airplane seat or in a restaurant– I don’t even know what it refers to… it is just a part of a thing.”  He claimed that he is inspired by music or art, but could be just as inspired by a hot dog he ate for lunch.  This is not surprising coming from a man who claims that if he lived in a beautiful city, he wouldn’t make art… but it was truly an inspiring thing to hear.  Those who meditate regularly understand the concept of mindfulness in everyday life, but many of us lose this in our daily activities and obligations.  Baldessari’s comment reminded me: be aware of the world around you, even something that initially seems irritating (those people talking loudly behind you on the airplane) might lead you to something inspiring in yourself.  With that in mind, I drove home along the typically congested Los Angeles roads and rather than being frustrated, I tried to appreciate the drives between cultural institutions for the think-space they provide.

John Baldessari, Terms Most Useful in Describing Creative Works of Art, 1966-68

John BaldessariJohn Baldessari, Terms Most Useful in Describing Creative Works of Art, 1966-68

Obviously art fairs are nothing new especially in a city the size of Los Angeles, but Art Platform this weekend was truly something unique.  As we entered the fair space, I was struck by the differences between this fair and many others I have attended in the city, including Contemporary Art LA, Art LA, and Photo LA.  First of all, the show felt more manageable than some others, it seemed more contained and more clearly laid out.  Art fair booths are always a maze, but something about the larger size of the booths and the flow of the spaces was much more welcoming here.  Usually, the spaces are laid out in little cubes that are filled with each gallery’s most well-known artists, in this case the walls merged into one another at times, and although it was clear which galleries were representing which artists, the gallery was not the first nor most prominent impression.

I was truly impressed by the breadth and beauty of the offerings by each of the galleries, they were shown clearly and the galleries seemed to have kept their offerings concise and limited to one or two artists.  By doing so, viewers were given greater space, mental and physical, to consume each image.  I do realize, of course, that art fairs are not meant for viewers, but rather for buyers.  I am not in the business of art, but this show truly appealed to my viewing personality and I believe it was also successful for many of the galleries who participated in terms of their sales.  It of course helped that these seemed all to be legitimate and well-established galleries already!

In the end, it seemed like the aspect that made this show imminently viewable was the fact that it was de-facto “curated” by its role as part and patron of Pacific Standard Time.  Each gallery seemed to make a point of playing to that general theme of California artists both from the time period focused on in the larger initiative of 1945 to 1980, and those artists who have been influenced by the artists who are part of PST.  A few exhibitions around town have given us a grand view of the city’s art history during that time, especially those at the Getty and MOCA’s “Under the Big Black Sun,” but this art fair added that element of what came next.  If you read this blog, you will remember that that was an aspect I particularly appreciated about the inclusion of Heather Cassils’ piece at the LACE show earlier last week (her performance/video “Cuts” evoked the work of  Lynda Beglis and Eleanor Antin in a modern voice).  The history and trajectory of the time period 1945-1980 is absolutely fascinating and has been eye-opening for me as a scholar and artist, but I also love seeing how that period and those artists continued and influenced the next generation.  I’m just sorry that this show lasted only a weekend!

I can’t wait to see if participants in Contemporary Art LA, at Barker Hanger in January, follow suit with this kind of focus to their offerings.

Some real highlights included gorgeous photographs by Jim Cambell illuminated and animated by LED lights that added an eerie dimensionality that I have never seen before, presented by Bryce Wolkowitz, New York.  I also always love Doug & Mike Starns whose collaged images have matured so much in theme and material through their careers, presented by Hackelbury Fine art, London.

Jim Cambell, presented by Bryce Wolkowitz, New York

Karl Benjamin presented by Louis Stern, Los Angeles

Doug & Mike Starns presented by Hackelbury Fine Art, London

Friday was the first day of the opening weekend for Pacific Standard Time here in Los Angeles.  I had the pleasure of being able to tour a private collection in Pasadena that morning then off to the Norton Simon museum and to round out my sojourn east, I swept through a sneak preview of the exhibition “Speaking in Tongues” of works by  Robert Heinecken and Wallace Berman at the Armory Center for the Arts. These two artists both worked in the same neighborhood at the same time in Los Angeles and were both working to some degree with photography as a base medium.

The show reminded me of something I talked about in my last blog post about performance art, the need to draw in the viewer before the artist can convey their personal or political message.  In this case, Heinecken in particular was able to accomplish this feat by utilizing mass media images and conveyances.  I certainly must confess to having a soft spot for participatory art, or art that forces or requests viewers to engage with the art in some way.  This kind of work can have profound effect on viewers and society especially when it takes the message outside of traditional institutions and into the streets, living rooms, and hands of lay viewers (those not already interested and open to art viewership).  One of Heinecken’s most interesting works, and one to which the Armory show devotes substantial space, is his series based on the photograph of a Cambodian soldier holding two decapitated heads.  Heinecken plastered this gory image of the smiling soldier over the insides of news and fashion magazines and then placed these in such innocuous places as dentists offices and back on the shelves of magazine stands. This and many other collage works are certainly worth viewing in the exhibition and the collaborative nature of Berman’s work is inspiring to artists working today (see my blog post on “free art” to see what I have to say about collaboration).

Heinecken and Berman also are touted in the exhibition as addressing the sexism and violence in media images through their work.  They certainly do address these large issues in their many manipulations and collages but I am struck, especially after having just seen the LACE show, at the difference between how men engage with sexism in popular culture and how women dialogue with these topics in their art.  It feels like for men it is more about admitting to their own obsessions than reviling them. To this point, two video pieces in the exhibition, one by Heinecken and one by Berman, are unique in their titillation alongside condemnation.  The piece of Berman’s was shot over ten years and configured post-mortem into the image structure we see presented whereas Heinceken’s was installed by the artist during his lifetime and has been re-figured on several occasions in different ways throughout the years.  Heinecken’s work is presented as in a living room with commercial images flashing on a television through the image of the torso of a nude woman plastered to the surface of the screen.  Despite being utilized to point out to the viewer the abundance of sexualized imagery and violence on television and in popular culture, the female body by being shown decapitated and powerless, becomes and enforces male fantasy as well, in many ways belying the attempted criticism.

In the end, despite the issues inherent in their version of addressing sexism, the beauty and complexity of the images is certainly worth viewing.  As artists we all have those fellow artists who, when we look at their work, are like visual soul-mates.  Looking at Heinecken’s work for me has always been like coming home to an aesthetic that is comfortable and complete, something that is just so right and close to my own that I can’t view it critically.

More to come on many of the other shows opening this weekend in Los Angeles – whew, how inspiring this all is!

Heinecken from series using image of Cambodian soldier

Wallace Berman's veritfax TV with nude woman

I hit up the Los Angeles Goes Live show at LACE in West Hollywood on Tuesday night and it gave me a chance to think about performance art.  Several galleries in Los Angeles are attempting to give us an overview of their own history as part of the Pacific Standard Time initiative.  Cirrus opened last week with an ode to their own exhibition history, and that was essentially the case at the LACE show as well.  Both shows had a wall covered with notes, letters, and receipts giving us a peek behind the scenes of some of their most important events and exhibitions.  At Cirrus, this piece of the puzzle was tucked away through the hall that leads to the back patio and another exhibition space upstairs, at LACE it took up the entire left wall as you enter the first of three rooms in the gallery.  It really is interesting to have access to these glimpses into what makes the art come alive, but for someone who wasn’t there and isn’t privy to the details of the pieces mentioned, it is a little difficult to enjoy thoroughly.

This feeling continued for me throughout the LACE show on Tuesday. The exhibit did a great job of giving viewers access to pieces of the history of performance art and context as to the history of performance art, but I was left wondering about the actual art.  In the second room there were costumes from some pieces and short didactic panels that contained the artists’ names and the titles of the pieces but I missed a real description of the piece itself.  Obviously I recognized many of the names, but having not been in Los Angeles in the 70’s and 80’s I didn’t have the reference to be able to fill in those blanks.  This section was curated by Ellina Kevorkian  and is intended to posit “clothing or objects used in a performance [as] not remnants but a sculptural void holding an inherent performance to be fulfilled.” The third room brought some of this together with three large screens that rotated pictures of performances from this time period.  Some of these photographs showed the costumes from the second room in action, and others were not referenced elsewhere in the exhibit.  All in all I didn’t feel like I came away from the show understanding the connections between these artists nor did I feel like I really understood what the performances looked or felt like during that time period.  I was also disappointed that there wasn’t mention of Los Angeles’ contribution as unique, in terms of performance art, to what was going on in the rest of the country and world.

Along with the exhibition of performance art documentation, LACE has also commissioned re-stagings of several performance pieces.  This, I feel, is the most successful way to update and document performance art for a new audience.  These performances will be spaces out through the year of PST, and there were two on the opening night. Cheri Gaulke’s “Peep Totter Fly” took up the right wall in the first room of the exhibit with multiple pairs of red high heels in various sizes, meant to be worn by audience members as they walked through the space.  This was accompanied by a short performance wherein several people clad all in white synchronously put on shoes and marched along Hollywood Boulevard.  A bit innocuous given Hollywood Boulevard’s usual crowds, but an interesting moment none-the-less.  This was accompanied by a video of high heels marching in natural environments that could have been larger on the wall, but was beautifully shot and a nice addition to the contributory performance of the heels on the wall.  I must mention that Ms. Gaulke was my teacher in high school and so I’m a little biased given that she was inspirational in my early years as an artist…

In the last room we were treated to a video installation (that ran between the montage of photographic images I mentioned earlier) of a Heather Cassils piece, “Cuts: A Traditional Sculpture.”  Cassils draws from two well-known performance works from the 70’s and 80’s, Eleanor Antin’s “Carving: A Traditional Sculpture” and Lynda Beglis’ “Advertisement in Artforum.”  We were shown short video snips of Cassils’ earlier works and then the two channel video of “Cuts,” wherein she documents herself transforming her body through hormones, bodybuilding, and a strict diet.  The transformation was extraordinary and the photography and video truly allowed us into the performance (probably because it was conceived as a video project and not just a performance).  This ode to the history of performance art conceived and produced for a contemporary audience was a wonderful addition to the show, I just wish there had been a didactic panel giving the viewer more information about what the Cassils piece was referencing.

All in all I was taken back to my early days in art school at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago where I hung out with many performance artists.  I remember always being so interested in what they were doing, and thinking so much of the interventions they were making in social preconceptions… but, really, I don’t know that I truly understood much of it.  I pranced up and down Michigan avenue dressed in my best goth attire, went in and out of fancy high-end hotels wielding a metal chain menacingly for a friend’s video project, but I’m not sure that we really did anything with these performances beyond amusing ourselves.  The thing about performance art (and, really, all art), is that it must draw the viewer in to some degree, before it can confront them.  The performance pieces that I observed on Tuesday were able to do this.  Gaulke’s piece through humor, personal engagement, and beauty before the dull pain of wearing those heels set in, and Cassils’ piece through fascination and awe at her transformation, before the idea of bodily change and preconceptions about beauty, strength, and sex took hold.  I still can’t claim to be someone who truly “gets” performance art, but I can say I still revere those who utilize the medium to great ends.  I look forward to experiencing more from the series!

PST is just getting started here in LA – check out the full schedule here:
//www.pacificstandardtime.org/exhibitions

To find out more about programming at LACE – check out their web site here:
//welcometolace.org/

Cheri Gaulke's 1978 performance, "Broken Shoes"

Heather Cassils Performance "Cuts"

On Saturday I finally got around to visiting “Beauty CULTure” at the Annenberg Space for Photography in Century City.  This was an exhibit I had looked forward to since the first light post banner went up months ago.  The idea of a major institution presenting a thorough and revealing look at the beauty culture, especially in a city so embracing of, and reliant on, the proliferation of this culture, was extremely intriguing.  Needless to say, it went the way of every movie I’ve ever spoiled for myself by reading the book first, it fell far short of my expectations.

Upon entering the space, one views two large images, on the left a Herb Ritts of 5 traditionally gorgeous nude women embracing one another in a classical pose, on the right a Leonard Nimoy mirror image of 5 women who fall outside of our culture’s magazine standard of beauty.  Good start, right?  I love the juxtaposition, the confrontation of two similar images, both black and white and similarly posed, begging the question of what and where is beauty in the individual and in the art.  Unfortunately, the next segment consists of a long hallway jam-packed with salon hung images of models shot by almost exclusively magazine and advertising photographers.  With the exception of a very few images that are by more traditional fine-artists (most of whom have a reputation for chauvinism and a background in magazine work – I’m looking at you Man Ray), these are pages right out of any fashion magazine.  The didactic panel prefacing a long wall of photographs of extremely well-known models presents us with text that would imply that the history of beauty in the fashion industry is complex and has changed greatly over the years.  They tease us with an idea and then present a hodge-podge of images that in no way support the thesis on the panel.  This section could have been powerful had the images been hung with a greater focus on the assertion made in the panel, and with text that clarified the ideas with each photograph.  Instead we were treated to text on the gossipy image panels that told us of the models’ reality shows and selling figures.  Beyond this, the photographers are barely addressed, despite this being a museum of photography, and the images are incredibly hard to examine in any detail given the proximity of the viewer to the images, the salon-style hanging, and the great height to which the images are hung with traditional gallery lighting that ended up reflecting glaringly off most of the higher hanging works.

The exhibit then went on to show us images of “women of color” and “women of size” mostly sticking to the typical magazine shots again, with a few well-known women of color, but very little to guide us or to critique the industry visually.  Lachapelle’s image “Miss Anna don’t like fat people” being the main exception in it’s critique of the industry that produces these images.  Overall the didactic panels and the imagery presented felt like they belonged in two different shows.  The idea behind beauty culture is so strong, and the imagery in the art photography lexicon so strong, that I was disappointed by the great reliance on standard magazine imagery with very little dialogue between these images and the critical images of fine artists like Carrie May Weems, Alex Sandwell Kliszynski, or Aziz & Cucher.  These contrasting works are instead tucked away on the last wall of the show, poorly lit in their position beside the looped half hour documentary by Lauren Greenfield.  The whole space takes on an inside/outside vibe, with the outer walls densely packed with glossy pin-ups and super models and the inside walls vibrant with Greenfield’s insightful documentary and more critical photographic fine art works.  I only wish that the “inside” photographic pieces could have been displayed with as much thought and honor as the documentary project, but I guess most of those didn’t focus on celebrities and, after all, this is Los Angeles!

Overall I am glad that the Annenberg Space chose to put on the show and I’m confidant that the exhibition has inspired some dialogue on topics of beauty and power in American culture.  I guess I was just really hoping for more of a critical dialogue than a display of the predominant norms that we are all aready confronted with every day.  Also, who says that the beauty culture only affects women?  Perhaps the curators addressed their decision to include only a vision of feminine beauty in the exhibition but I did not come upon any explanatory text.  The imposition of beauty and the pressure of external norms do not exist solely in the female realm.

The whole show brings up for me the issue of photography as a medium.  Photography serves so many different purposes in today’s world that I almost feel like we need several different words rather than the one term.  In fact, many exhibitions now call for “lens-based art” rather than photography.  What is photography now, and what is the role of a photography museum?  As an art historian, I want to see an examination of images, not just subject.  As a cultural theorist, I expect a thorough grounding in the psycho-social context of the image-maker.  Finally, as a photographer I am drawn to the visually seductive.  We all want to view beauty, but it is through the sublime that we are challenged and transformed as individuals and as a culture.  The Annenberg center takes us back to the curatorial tradition intrinsic in The Family of Man as curated by Edward Steichen.  In these shows, it is the curator who ends up being the artist rather than the photographers included.

Alex Sandwell Kliszynski

I love talking about art.  I forget about it sometimes in the day to day of shuffling children and family, but to sit and discuss the art world, media, practice, etc. is so enjoyable.  I had the pleasure of having dinner with two artists/art professionals last night, Jill Thayer and Ted Kerzie, and the discussion was truly lovely, encompassing everything from art education to material to the importance and inevitable encumbrance of market issues.  In addition, I had a two hour drive each way between Los Angeles and Bakersfield in which to simmer in these thoughts.

It all brings up something pretty important to me – the need for artists to have space and time to think.  Today’s world is overwhelmed with technology, irritants and interruptions.  We become so accustomed to having our minds in twelve different places at once, it really becomes difficult to sit and think about one particular thing, just to mull something over without wandering to another topic or another task.  Truly, when was the last time you were bored… BORED, as in bored to pieces, and didn’t allow yourself to stray?  Next time, just let yourself simmer – we really need those moments!

In our quest to complete our tasks and goals, to get where we are going, we forget the journey.  The journey may truly be the art.  What is a finished piece but a record of an artist’s journey.  Too many of us are thinking about how our work will sell, how to present it, how to display it, how to wrap it up with a bow for a teacher/colleague/curator/gallery owner/historian, that we don’t allow ourselves the time to just ponder and see where the impulse and the art takes us.  What does this do to the work being produced?

I know it can be difficult, but breath, meditate, think, talk about art and see where it takes you – the work will be the better for it.

Jill Thayer and Ted Kerzie in front of his sculpture, "Eclipse" in Bakersfield, CA

I’ve thought on and off about this topic for many years – is there really anything fresh or interesting in art and is there any room in the existing infrastructure for a free-flow of ideas that might, in fact, encourage a real change or real inspiration within the fine art community?  The reason I’m thinking about this today is because of a lecture I attended yesterday at Pomona College given by Thomas Crow and followed by a discussion between Mowry Baden and Hal Glicksman.  The ideas all three expressed and the re-telling of the particular period in art history (California in the late 1960s) were inspiring and yet also disheartening.

Baden and Glicksman were a part of an inspirational art department at Pomona College that inspired many wonderful adventurous artists who have become more or less well known in the latter 20th century.  They told a story of a gallery run by the art department that embraced a young and untested preparator, who happened to be well involved with many local artists, as curator.  Hal Glicksman went on to create programming that bent rules and pushed boundaries, he brought in friends and artists whose work he had seen, telling them he would make it work and supported by (or at least presumably not deterred by) the greater institution for which he was working.  Crow, now a preeminent art historian but then a college student observing this movement first-hand, offered his own perspective in his lecture.  He told the story of artistic give-and-take, of a group of–if not collaborators–friends, and colleagues at all different levels of accomplishment, experience, and technical proficiency.  I loved the story for its focus on how ideas are spread – how artists inspire one another when you take out the financial and historical implications of the work.

Unfortunately the story is also disheartening because I just can’t see how this kind of cross-disciplinary/boundary/border/institutional/academic sharing of knowledge, excitement, and experience can happen in today’s world.  In the last few years several exhibitions have been mounted that have explored groups of working artists who inspired and interacted professionally as well as personally and who, for the interaction, grew to a level of accomplishment none would have achieved working alone.  In particular I think of “Semina Culture” presented by the Santa Monica Museum of Art and exploring the work and circle of Wallace Berman and his circle and the exhibition “Alfred Stieglitz and His Circle” exploring the group of moderns supported, shown, and surrounding Alfred Stieglitz in early 20th Century New York.  Art History is, in-fact, full with stories of artist groups and circles who corresponded and collaborated on work in their time.  Why is this impossible today?

Financial strain in the art world is real.  The pressure on artists to support the financial and developmental mission of any gallery or cultural institution that embraces their work is substantial.  For museums and institutions, the need to utilize their long-sought and dearly purchased collections is a primary factor in creating programming.  In art schools, especially in Master’s degree programs, the opportunity for cross-development and germination of ideas among artists is possible but the hierarchical structure of the university, the brevity of the programs and subsequent moving away and on of the artist/students, and the lack of support for display and continuation of the outcomes of these ideas, leads to a true stagnation in artistic innovation.  The Pomona College we heard about in this lecture was anything but – teachers, undergrads, graduate students, and local artists were joined together in the discussion, they saw each other not as competition, not as higher-ups and lower-downs, not as segways to a successful career, but rather as collaborators in an atelier of ideas.

The closest thing I am seeing today to this kind of innovation and public germination is in the street art and outsider art movements that are now again being embraced by the art community.  Unfortunately, with the adoption by cultural institutions, like MOCA in Los Angeles with their “Art in the Streets” exhibition, comes a growing commodification and classification of the movement that defies the impulse for collaboration and free art. This kind of freedom is not, and may never again, however, be able to spring from the established fine art system (educational and institutional).

Despite the fact that we all are so much closer to one another with digital technology allowing us to “friend” and “tweet” at people working on similar projects half-way across the globe, we artists are really growing farther and farther away from each other.  Perhaps it is just that I’m too close and too far away to see the movements and collaborations, maybe the Thomas Crow of the 22nd century will discover our generation’s circles of innovators, but from where I’m sitting I have to say, I’m not seeing it.

free art.

Mowry Baden and Hal Glicksman at Pomona

As so many have mentioned in their first sentence of their first blogs, this is the very first time, ever, in all of my years, that I have attempted to blog.  Originally I intended to revise my photography website to include newer images and information about my academic work, but then my smarty-pants husband decided to cajole me into integrating a blog to talk about my art, my take on theory and photo history, and my thoughts on current exhibitions and goings-on in Los Angeles.

So, a little about me – I hold an MFA in photography and a PhD in cultural studies and museum studies.  I received my PhD two years ago after defending my dissertation eight months pregnant with twins!  There was no way they were going to deny me in that state….  Hence, the last two years have been spent raising babies and doing very little academic or photographic work.  Finally emerging from baby-haze, I have been working on a couple of art projects (check them out under “photography portfolio”), have been pursuing more research (check out some synopses under “academic work”), and have been looking for a job (to very little effect… unfortunately!).

Stay tuned, and keep me in mind for any (and I mean any) academic, museum, or art-based work!