Walking the Art

For me there is usually one thing that makes the adventure worthwhile. On trips where many things are found as clumps of ore to be shoveled away, if I am lucky I will stumble upon a rock that is a little heavier than the rest. It's often a satellite off the beaten path and out on the edges because that's were things of substance and value live.

Laura and I went to the Art Walk in downtown Los Angeles yesterday. It's held on the first Thursday of every month. It's a little scary driving from Orange County to LA on a late Thursday afternoon, one never knows if the traffic gods will smile on you or not. We rolled into LA about 3 PM because we had read the Gallery's are open from 3 to 9. But as we started to walk down Spring street with our little map in hand, we heard from the first few Gallery people that the real action did not start until 6 PM. Many of the places were beginning to setup small stages for bands that would be preforming later, right about the time we would be heading home.

The first thing that I noticed was the stark contrast between the urban LA of my childhood with that of today. As we were standing outside one of the trendy lofts that permeate the new downtown, a J. Crew father came out of a door with a baby in a stroller and a young boy in tow. When I was a kid hanging out trying to shine shoes in LA, most likely that would have been a drug dealer or a schrizophrenic gang member. Downtown is unrecognizable.

The official Art Walk is a loop around Spring and Main streets between 2nd and 9th. We stepped into about a dozen galleries, most were strangely sparse with the art extremely abstract. Two things I don't really like, first is neon lights as art; it annoys me and I don't now why. Second, if you are going to spend all the money to rent Gallery space in downtown LA, put more than 5 pictures/paintings in it. Cram as much art into it as you can get your hands on. I only have so many steps left in me, make it worth my while to walk through your space.

At the end of the loop are three galleries clumped together for warmth. They were the Infusion Gallery, G727 and the must see Hive Gallery. Infusion had some very interesting works, three artists I really liked are Kellie Becker, Duncan Asper and Patrick Gunderson. G727 I don't remember. The Hive was something like an artist co-op. As we entered the front door, it appeared to be a typical fancy gallery, with some beautiful fantasy paintings by Danni Shinya Lou in the first room. But as I started to head deeper and deeper into the space each artists space was unique and captivating, some dark, some erotic, some political. Each artists had a little space and some were already there working on pieces getting ready for prime time later in the evening. It is an eclectic mix of bizarre and fasinating art that I found really intriguing with the end of the journey a dark room with purple fur lined walls. It was like going down the rabbit hole and as I came back out the front door I felt physically invigorated and slightly drugged. What a trip.

We stopped for dinner at Cole's French Dip, a dark, cozy, restaurant that sits slightly below ground level and has been in business since 1908. Of course we had the french dip. On the way back to the car we came across a big open lot were a dozen or so street artists had setup their works in an unofficial "show". While not nearly as polished as the professional works in the Hive, I enjoyed this impromptu show. These are the blue collar artists trying to sell something to buy food and make rent. Of course aren't we all.