I don't know where to begin....first things first -- Enemy Elite Trooper 2008:
Cindy Wright at Mark Moore Gallery -- Her paintings do that thing, that sexy thing where the paint falls off the bone up close. Sumptuous, fitful strokes of dull pinks and grays coalesce to form subject matter that has been rendered into glistening, overwhelming geographies of beauty. And we all got to hang out later. She said nice things about my paintings.
Louise Bourgeoisie at MOCA -- A perfect complement to the Kippenberger show. Him- all over the place male painter that died young. Her - consistently interesting female sculptor that is still active, 97 years young. She presents the themes humanity has the most trouble ever coming to terms with -- love, intimacy, sex, relationships, family, gender -- in the most inviting and universal ways. Her methods are the same ways ancient peoples communicated these ideas; transmitted through the hands on the oldest materials with the simplest forms. Fantastic.
Oranges and Sardines at the Hammer -- Father-raping awesome. 6 abstract painters pick their favorites, and its named after a line from a Frank O'Hara poem. Go, go, go to this show. Take me with you again. Bacon. Guston. Mondrian. Still. Heilman. Amy Sillman. Dieter Roth. Malcolm Morley. Amy Sillman is my new favorite painter. I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve, I'm afraid and cannot be properly critical. And the Hammer Cafe is open, and they make a nice tuna melt.
Didn't make it to any openings this Saturday because I went to see Marnie Stern at the El Rey. Dopeatronic. Her and her band are just a three piece and they make a hellacious racket. What is gained in her live show reminded me of live Hendrix footage; you see it happen all right there, it's for real. That's a human being making those cosmic sounds. And she brought her dog.
My old pal Mark Flood is in town from Houston. He has a show at Peres Projects in Culver City this weekend. He brings the piss and the vinegar with all he does, despite being a real sweetheart and buying me lunch at LACMA Saturday. Machine Projects had taken over the entire LACMA nation-state that day, and I am going to attempt to describe the interventions they staged as I remembered and encountered them:
-- A wonderful group of cult like musicians invaded the restaurant while we had lunch and played haunting, joyful melodies while we and the rest of the patrons ate.
-- A woman in the area between the BCAM and the Ahmanson building was doing some kind of vocal/noise/perfomance thing on the floor.
-- A screaming box in front a Kurt Schwitters piece.
-- A masked, singing couple in front of some paintings in the room before you get to the Picasso room.
-- A big yellow tarp on the floor where the medieval stuff was.
-- A fake breathing kitty in one the ancient Mesopotamian display cases.
-- A dude video-ing and altering images of....some great painting with a whole video computer setup.
-- Various group workshop things going on all over.
-- Blindfolded amateur art installing.
All in all, a wonderful afternoon.