#ben lee ritchie handler

[ilikegoodstories]

Kodak Colorplus 200 exp. ‘21  

[paysagesinterieurs]

Texte 309 - Telle le Pape

Feb 10, 20 Hollywood Babylon Nicodim et Jeffrey Deitch Los Anhgeles _ Voir circuler l’info de l’opening Night d’Hollywood Babylon. Sans l’horaire de l’événement et ça, ça veut dire que c’est un Opening privé. Et se dire qu’il sera difficile de s’y incruster Hollywood Babylon: re-inauguration Curatée par Benjamin Lee Ritchie Handler et Jeffrey Deitch. Aaron me renvoie l’info qu’il faudrait y aller. Mais lui non plus n’a pas l’horaire. Entre temps suite à mon post sur insta l’artiste Alison Blickle qui participe à All Of Them Witches chez Jeff’ D. s’abonne à mon compte, et reposte la photo avec Miley Cyrus J’avais taguée Alison Blickle puisque son œuvre est sur la photo. Et j’ai bien fait car cette meuf a un super mental, tu vois quand elle sent bien quelqu’un elle hésite pas elle se connecte. Très sympa. Je lui avais écrit pour la féliciter pour son travail et pour savoir si elle allait à la Frieze, histoire qu’on se rencontre physiquement. Elle irait le jeudi, puis elle me parlait d’Hollywood Babylon et m’y invitait! Voilà comment je m’y suis incrustée en donnant son nom. Alison Blickle m’a ouvert les portes de ce paradis où l’on circule de biais en se frottant aux autres. Cela plaît beaucoup à mon personnage de se frotter aux autres comme si elle était assurée ainsi de réellement exister. Elle aime non pas jouer des coudes, mais je dirais plutôt frétiller des épaules. Elle s’imagine toujours frappée par la grâce. Maintenant elle a soif, elle parvient à atteindre le bar et se prend un cocktail. Elle voit passer Alison emportée par la foule, elle boit un coup, lève la tête. Alison a disparu. Je croise Heather Benjamin, tu te souviens elle m’avait refusé froidement le selfy, c’est une autre artiste d’All Of Them Witches, un tempérament opposé à celui d’Alison, mais La Bambina ne se laisse jamais abattre par les hautain-e-s et du coup lui demande si elle sait dans quelle direction est allée Alison. Le temps de lui poser ma question et j’étais passée de son côté gauche à son côté droit. Le temps qu’elle se remémore qu’elle m’avait refusé un selfy et que peut-être elle aurait pas dû, qu’elle me réponde « i don’t know » et j’étais au pied de l’escalier à 3 mètres d’elle. Je grimpe. Vous le savez que La Bambina ne passe pas inaperçue, hein? Il faut toujours avoir en tête que lorsque je décris ce que je vis en La Bambina, j’hypnotise, fais rire de bon cœur et me fais photographier, on me demande même de caresser la tête des enfants. Telle le Pape. Et je revois mémé, petite femme originaire de Vénétie, devant son poste de télé, fan de Jean Paul II, avec son petit chien engraissé à ses pieds. Genre, son arrière petite-fille est là comme comme environ une fois par mois, elle la saluera chaleureusement plus tard. Pour le moment y’a Jean Paul II à la télé, rdv dominical à coup de larmes écrasées par un mouchoir de tissus, et de bouches entrouvertes pour mieux atteindre l’état transcendantal. Bref, tout ça pour dire qu’il faut toujours avoir en tête le pouvoir de La Bambina, pas au point que des mémés pleurassent à son passage, mais pas loin. La Bambina visite les différents espaces et retrouve enfin Alison. Elles s’embrassent et sont contentes de se rencontrer. Yeux étincelants de part et d’autre. Elles papotent. Alison est une véritable alliée pour le mental de la meuf que je suis derrière La Bambina, elle me file l’info du jour. Le charmant mec dans son imper beige, avec des tatouages surgissant par endroits, qui laisse s’exprimer son corps en maître des lieux, c’est Ben Lee. Elle lui dit même son nom entier, mais que tout le monde l’appelle Ben. Elle lui explique qu’il gère Nicodim. Waou. C’est The pro à suivre absolument, c’est le mec important de l’art à LA à se mettre dans la pocket, à essayer d’approcher, voire présenter son boulot, être connectés à lui en tout cas.Je salue mon amie en espérant la revoir vite pour continuer la visite. Ben Lee se retourne à mon passage et me dit : You! I know you! I’ve ever seen you! Je ne sais pas pourquoi, j’ai envie de mimer qu’on est de vieux potes de longues soirées  drag’show ou je ne sais plus ce qui me passe par la tête. Hey! How are you Ben! La Bambina aime me faire croire que je suis hyper cool comme meuf. On s’enlace puis il réalise qu’il se trompe, il ne me connaît pas, je le sens dans son raidissement corporel, je veux donc parler de ses bras, de ses pattes, de son buste, de son cou, de ses poignets, de ses tatouages qui semblent se retirer à l’intérieur des fringues et même sa longue mèche de cheveux se défrise. Enthousiaste je lui dis : Congratulation for the show Ben! Il répète « congratulation » comme si c’était quelque chose qu’il avait entendu toute la soirée. Ce froid m’aurait personnellement fait m’effondrer, mais La Bambina ne se démonte jamais, c’est comme si elle transformait les humiliations en mises en lumière puis en gloire. Elle va pour quitter la pièce, elle se retourne, genre Rita Hayworth, le cherche du regarde, le salue de sa main aux doigts virevoltants, il lui renvoie un sourire de plastique. Elle retient uniquement qu’il lui a sourit. Pour elle, les présentations sont faites et bien faites. Elle va sur la terrasse, elle regarde viteuf le film de Kenneth Anger tourne la tête à gauche et elle le reconnaît dans la pénombre, son visage s’illumine. Job est en train de faire une captation de son film préféré. Elle l’interrompt, car elle n’a pas de pitié face à ses propres émerveillements. Ils se saluent chaleureusement. La Bambina lui dit que Sea l’avait prévenue qu’il venait pour la Frieze Artweek, il est surpris que je sois connectée à une proche amie des Goldberg, ils discutent, il est total détendu, et hyper sympa, c’est la première fois qu’ils se parlent. La Bambina l’avait trouvé un peu froid à New York lorsqu’elle avait notamment participé au workshop de Kia LaBeija à Performa 19. Mais là, c’est hyper cool, elle veut fixer cette rencontre, comme si la mémoire ne lui suffisait plus, elle lui demande un selfy. Job l’amène là où il y a le plus de lumière sur la terrasse. Et ça la met dans une joie indescriptible, comme si la faille de San Andreas se réveillait et réunissait à jamais Los Angeles et New York Comme si RoseLee Goldberg me prenait dans ses bras, et que nous dansions ensemble un fox-trot. Musicals Lifestyle.

[ownerzero]

80 LA Galleries Band Together In an Effort to Survive the Pandemic

GPLA Operations Committee and Editorial Committee in a Zoom meeting. Members listed L-R, top to bottom: Lindsay Charlwood, Matthew Marks; Melahn Frierson, Jeffrey Deitch; Shaun Caley Regen, Regen Projects; Emilia Yin, Make Room Los Angeles; Nicoletta Beyer, Blum & Poe; Ben Lee Ritchie Handler, Nicodim; François Ghebaly, François Ghebaly; Marta Fontolan, Sprüth Magers; Jeffrey Deitch, […]

The post 80 LA Galleries Band Together In an Effort to Survive the Pandemic appeared first on AWorkstation.com.

source https://aworkstation.com/80-la-galleries-band-together-in-an-effort-to-survive-the-pandemic/

[caveartfair]

The 20 Best Booths at The Armory Show 2019

Installation view of Sadie Barnette’s solo presentation at Charlie James’ booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of Charlie James.

The weekend’s snow and ice melted just in time for the VIP preview of The Armory Show, which is celebrating its 25th edition. Director Nicole Berry, who’s led The Armory Show since the end of 2017, called the fair “the unofficial kickoff to the New York art calendar” during the press preview. The 2019 fair presents a group of 197 galleries, hailing from 33 countries—including Tunisia, for the first time, with Selma Feriani Gallery.

The sunny weather on Wednesday morning was good fortune for the fair, particularly in light of the bad news they received in February—that Pier 92, one half of their traditional venue (along with Pier 94), was plagued with structural difficulties. As a result, some Armory exhibitors were relocated to Pier 90, where Volta was originally scheduled to take place, leading the latter fair to be canceled. In light of this, some of the galleries slated to participate in Volta are exhibiting at various other fairs, including Plan B—an initiative helmed by art-world figures including gallerist David Zwirner, and organized in just the past couple of weeks. Despite the last minute shuffle, Volta director Amanda Coulson reaffirmed her support for The Armory Show at the press preview.

As the fair got into full swing, collectors (David Mugrabi, Howard Rachofsky) mingled amongst a cross section of journalists, museum directors (Anne Pasternak), artists (Ryan Gander, Deborah Kass, Dustin Yellin), and celebrities (Sofia Coppola, Isabelle Huppert, Paul Rudd). Carts of Pommery champagne navigated crowded aisles, while on Pier 94, Cameroonian artist Pascale Marthine Tayou’s hanging installation of hundreds of plastic bags served as an ideal selfie spot.

The Armory Show has certainly come a long way since 1994, when it was just a scrappy project (then known as the Gramercy International Art Fair) conceived by gallerists Colin de Land, Pat Hearn, Matthew Marks, and Paul Morris, and located in the Gramercy Park Hotel. Back then, cash purchases were advised.

Here, we share the 20 best booths from the 25th edition of The Armory Show.

P.P.O.W

Galleries Section, Booth 717

With works by Anton van Dalen, Hew Locke, Dinh Q. Lê, Betty Tompkins, Suzanne Treister, Robin F. Williams, Martin Wong, and David Wojnarowicz

Installation view of P���P•O•W’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of P•P•O•W.

The violence of the 1980s—epitomized by the AIDS crisis and the Cold War—erupts in The War Comes Home (1982), a monumental oil painting by Anton van Dalen. A tank and a fighter jet unleash hell on the Lower East Side, the neighborhood in which the artist has lived and worked since the 1970s, as the silhouette of a man on fire runs from the chaos. The Dutch artist, who survived World War II, is pleased that the work is being shown in 2019, the gallery’s art fair director Trey Hollis told me; for Van Dalen, this same theoretical war has gone underground and online today. The techno-apocalypse he suggests is reiterated in “Survivor (F)” (2016–18), an elaborate series of watercolor diagrams by Suzanne Treister that illustrate “a post-human fantasy about Earth being repopulated by algorithms,” Hollis said. Hew Locke’s Ghost (2015), a flower-covered model warship that dangles from the ceiling, reminds me that the fair is upriver from the Intrepid, a sure sign that the struggles illuminated here by artists like Van Dalen, Martin Wong, and David Wojnarowicz have remained relevant for the generations that follow them.

Pace Gallery

Galleries Section, Booth 514

With works by Leo Villareal

Installation view of Leo Villareal, Star Ceiling, at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. © Leo Villareal. Photo by Rich Lee. Courtesy of Pace Gallery.

Installation view of Pace Gallery’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. © Leo Villareal. Photo by Rich Lee. Courtesy of Pace Gallery.

Installation view of Pace Gallery’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. © Leo Villareal. Photo by Rich Lee. Courtesy of Pace Gallery.

Upon entering Pier 94, fairgoers are treated to Leo Villareal’s Star Ceiling (2019), a 75-foot-long installation overhead that recalls the cosmos (walking through it is not unlike watching the opening sequence of Star Wars). In addition to the installation, Pace Gallery presents a boothful of shimmering new work by the artist, who is known for his innovative manipulations of LED lights. Inside the pier, the 12 featured LED pieces together make up a single work called Instance (2019). The works (each priced at $48,000) are all governed by a code the artist developed himself, but emit different sequences. If you watch long enough, you’ll notice similar patterns and streaks of light that appear to jump from one square panel to another. The presentation offers a glimpse of what we can expect from Villareal’s major public installation The Illuminated River, which will activate 15 bridges over the Thames in London, beginning this summer.

Nicodim

Galleries Section, Booth 824

With works by Moffat Takadiwa

Installation view of Nicodim’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of the Nicodim.

Nicodim turned over its booth to the undulating, sculptural tapestries of Zimbabwean artist Moffat Takadiwa, who will have his first U.S. solo show at the Los Angeles gallery this September. The intricate, large-scale assemblages of toothbrush heads, bottle caps, and computer keys might recall the work of El Anatsui, but the artist started working with such discarded materials out of necessity. While he was studying at Harare Polytechnic College, funding to public education was halted, and Takadiwa didn’t have money for art supplies—so he went to the dump, which amassed trash from European countries. “He recycled the refuse of the West into the cultural language of his own Shona people, who are known for their textiles,” explained gallery director Ben Lee Ritchie Handler. The works reference colonialism and the country’s oppressive military practices, and also hint at art history. One piece filled with rivets, Handler said, echoes Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain. The pieces range from $8,000 to $35,000 for the larger works, two of which had sold only hours into the fair.

Laurence Miller Gallery

Insights Section, Booth 313

With works by Gary Brotmeyer

Gary Brotmeyer, Air Circulating through a Leonardo Da Vinci Drawing with Bonus Picture Live from the Met, 1988. Courtesy of Laurence Miller Gallery.

In the Insights section on Pier 90, you’ll find many galleries promoting major, underrecognized figures, with printed catalogues and art-historical scholarship. Laurence Miller, in contrast, is offering a more lighthearted presentation, featuring Gary Brotmeyer’s cheeky mixed-media collages (priced at around $6,000 each). These wry delights riff on literature and art history. I Was to Be a Ham (Scout, Mockingbird book quote) (ca. 2002–03), for example, features a black-and-white photograph of a man with a sculpted ham shape affixed to his head. Miller describes another work, Rocketeers 4 (Normandie) (1995), as site-specific. The collage, which depicts a French postage stamp and a picture of a man smoking a pipe on a ledge, references an ocean liner that anchored—and sank—at Pier 88, just beyond The Armory Show’s walls.

“He’s been one of my all-time favorite artists since the day I met him,” Miller told me, noting that the artist, now 72, lives up on the Upper West Side and is still making collages, but mostly sculptures. Among his collectors, Miller added, is Elton John; he’s tried to persuade the musician to buy some of the artist’s rocket-related work (given John’s nickname: Rocket Man), but the musician hasn’t bitten yet. The Brotmeyer collages may not be major art, but they’re a lot more fun. Stop in for a chuckle.

ACA Galleries

Focus Section, Booth F19

With works by Faith Ringgold

Installation view of Faith Ringgald’s solo presentation at ACA Gallery’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of ACA Gallery.

ACA Galleries’s mini Faith Ringgold survey is a true gem—an opportunity to see the legendary artist’s work from the 1960s to the 2010s unfold in one small space. Rare activist prints from the 1970s (ranging from $40,000 to $60,000) are showcased on an exterior wall, while the interior of the booth features a plethora of works, including two large, sequined figurative sculptures from the same era (priced around $250,000). There are also several paintings from the “Black Light” series, ruminations on black skin inspired by Ad Reinhardt’s black abstractions. Two of these paintings were on hold within the first hour of the preview, but the real standout is a large, $3.5 million piece called Black Light Series #11: US America Black (1969). Sliced up into eight parts, US America Black shows a moving range of personalities and emotions in shades of black, blue, brown, and red. Among several quilts on view is a trio dedicated to black activists (Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Martin Luther King Jr.) from 2010, and another covered in photographs of the artist, a reckoning with an unintended 100-pound weight gain.

Galerie Nagel Draxler

Galleries Section, Booth A4

With works by Mark Dion, Andrea Fraser, and Renée Green

Installation view of Galerie Nagel Draxler’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Photo by Teddy Wolff. Courtesy of Spring/Break.

Installation view of Galerie Nagel Draxler’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Photo by Teddy Wolff. Courtesy of Spring/Break.

Gallerist Christian Nagel, who attended the first-ever edition of The Armory Show in the Gramercy Park Hotel, honors the original presentation in his commemorative booth. Back in 1994, Mark Dion’s contribution to the fair was a lemonade stand—“the symbol for every young kid to learn about capitalism and selling,” Nagel told me. Dion is once again serving the sugary drink in miniature solo cups at the 2019 exhibition, from behind the 25-year-old stand. Anyone who asks can have a cup, but if you want the whole artwork, you’ll have to shell out $60,000.

Also on view are two films by Andrea Fraser ($6,000 apiece) and an installation by Renée Green—all, like Dion’s work, exemplars of institutional critique. Green’s piece, The Pigskin Library (1990), priced at $150,000, consists of a series of colored plaques that viewers may pick up with white-gloved hands; the Latin name of an animal is printed on each. Nearby, there’s an organizational key—purple plaques signify “comfort”; green, “money”; black, “see future”; grey, “hexing”; and so on. Such arbitrary designations ask the viewer to consider how we categorize information and who establishes dominant classification structures.

Alison Jacques

Galleries Section, Booth 924

With works by Dorothea Tanning

Installation view of Dorothea Tanning’s solo presentation at Alison Jacques’ booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of The Armory Show.

An armchair upholstered in snakeskin fabric with a matching tail opens Alison Jacques’s spotlight on the late Surrealist powerhouse Dorothea Tanning, who died in 2012 at the age of 101. The timely presentation coincides with the artist’s first career retrospective, which is currently on view at Tate Modern. While the booth includes paintings (Evening on Sedona, 1976—a large painting of an abstracted nude body couched between two large, furry pups—is a highlight), it’s meant to showcase the sculptural nature of Tanning’s work, gallery director Fiona McGovern explained. Works on view span from 1945 to her final piece, called Victory (2005)—a framed slice of burnt toast. (Works on paper are on offer from $10,000 to $60,000, while paintings range from $60,000 to $350,000.)

Jeffrey Deitch

Galleries Section, Booth 817

With works by Ai Weiwei

Ai Weiwei, Zodiac, 2018. Courtesy of Jeffrey Deitch.

Across from Tayou’s show-stopping plastic bag installation, you’ll find Jeffrey Deitch’s eye-catching presentation of Ai Weiwei’s Lego paintings. Part of the artist’s “Zodiac” series, these 12 works (all 2018) depict the animals of the Chinese zodiac. This is the second time the artist has mined this imagery (previously, it inspired a series of sculptures), which is based on famous depictions of the zodiac figures that decorated the fountain in the Chinese Old Summer Palace. During the opium wars in the 19th century, the palace was destroyed, and most of the heads were auctioned off in Europe or lost. The “Zodiac Heads” are a way for the artist to confront ideas around national patrimony. Legos, meanwhile—one of Ai’s preferred materials—represent not only fatherhood (his son plays with the blocks), but also the idea of amassing a collection. There are three versions of the series: The one on view is the smallest and is an edition of 10; two editions are on offer at $150,000 for individual pieces, or $1.2 million for the full set.

Galería Max Estrella

Insights Section, Booth 204

With works by José Val del Omar

Installation view of Galería Max Estrella’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of Galería Max Estrella.

Green, amoeba-like forms writhe across the wall in Galería Max Estrella’s presentation at Pier 90. The germs are unleashed by a projector outfitted to create arresting special effects by the new-media pioneer José Val del Omar (the projectors are for sale, along with a selection of slides). If there is any one through-line that connects the late Spanish artist’s experimental films created over his four-decade career, it’s evolution. In the 1940s, Val del Omar fell in with Spanish Dadaists and Surrealists. His “film-poems” from this time mimic Salvador Dalí’s nonsensical cinematic experiments, but retain a slightly more grounded point of view. Throughout the 1950s, ’60s, and ’70s, Val del Omar continued to create innovative underground films, like Aguaespejo granadino (Watermirror from Granada) (1953–55), which utilizes digital effects to upgrade quotidian, black-and-white scenes of Granada landscapes and street life to thrilling experiences. As the camera shows us a still mountainscape, for instance, the sky begins to pulse with manufactured lightning. Val del Omar called himself a “cinemist”—part filmmaker, part alchemist—a name that suits him well.

David Nolan Gallery

Galleries Section, Booth 707

With works by Jorinde Voigt

Installation view of David Nolan’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of the David Nolan Gallery.

The prolific Berlin-based artist Jorinde Voigt holds the title for most chromatically pleasing works at the fair. To achieve the effervescent turmeric yellow of her Immersive Integral Firm Radiance V (2018–19)—a painting-drawing hybrid that incorporates gold leaf, pastel, and graphite—Voigt submerged the entire sheet of paper in a dish of India ink. The work’s “immersive color,” as David Nolan Gallery director George Newall described it, is an effect enhanced not only by the artist’s painted frame, but also by the gallery’s decision to decorate the booth in a soothing teal color. This and similarly energetic, abstract compositions are on offer for $60,000, while a larger showstopper like Immersive Integral Zenith XVII (2018), which seems indebted to the mysterious symbolism of Hilma af Klint, goes for $105,000. These powerful colors add another compelling and strangely spiritual dimension to Voigt’s expansive explorations of drawing, which seek to “map ethereal phenomena,” Newall said. Drawings of this ilk from the early aughts round out the presentation, and seem to presage the more recent works.

Von Bartha

Galleries Section, Booth 912

With works by Antonio Calderara, Anna Dickinson, Terry Haggerty, Imi Knoebel, Landon Metz, László Moholy-Nagy, Karim Noureldin, and Jesús Rafael Soto

Installation view of von Bartha’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of von Bartha, Basel and S-chanf.

Von Bartha’s booth offers a dynamic mix of modern and contemporary artists whose abstract works, many in muted primary colors, create a thoughtful exchange. Contemporary figures like Landon Metz and Imi Knoebel are shrewdly paired with works by their forebears—including Jesús Rafael Soto and Antonio Calderara—to create a resonance between generations. An alcove devoted to Knoebel includes a striking large yellow wall piece, while a two-panel Metz painting with washes of olive green, priced at $35,000, commands another wall. Before it, a table is laden with glass vessels by British artist Anna Dickinson. Each sculpture is inspired by industrial spaces and machinery, and runs from $26,000 to $32,000. A rug on the floor—a piece by Karim Noureldin (priced at $22,000)—cements the booth’s cohesion.

Eric Firestone Gallery

Focus Section, Booth F3

With works by Miriam Schapiro

Installation view of Eric Firestone Gallery’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of Eric Firestone Gallery.

In a tight presentation of six paintings, Eric Firestone Gallery illustrates the conceptual transformations that brought Miriam Schapiro from gestural abstraction in the early 1960s to pioneering feminist art in the 1970s. At first glance, the diverse selection of works (priced from $45,000 to $550,000) appear as though they have different authors. Yet the booth’s magic lies in the swiftness with which one comes to see Schapiro hopelessly chafing against her domestic responsibilities as a woman (paintings like Untitled, 1961, suggest a kind of housewife’s prison), and then actively exploding definitions of the female domain. Her Pattern and Decoration paintings elevate the domestic by incorporating fabric and other so-called “decorative” materials. Lady Gengi’s Maze (1972), made the same year that Schapiro co-founded the groundbreaking Womanhouse installation, is both a consciousness-raising statement and—with its mix of graphic, black-and-white lines and floral textiles—a plainly gorgeous painting.

Mariane Ibrahim Gallery

Galleries Section, Booth 720

With works by Florine Demosthene

Installation view of Mariane Ibrahim’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of the Mariane Ibrahim Gallery.

A new sort of heroine features in a set of collages (all 2019) by the Haitian-American artist Florine Demosthene. The expressive figures are a kind of alter-ego for the artist, who often takes her own body as her subject. Many works show sets of twins, a manifestation of the thorny dualities between woman and witch; beautiful and obscene; angry and in love. Their titles (You Made a Mockery of My Love; I’m A Risk) reference a woman’s turmoil, yes, but also her agency, a sense of freedom that resists misogynistic chastisements of emotional women. Against the kelly-green walls of Mariane Ibrahim Gallery’s booth, the bodies’ dynamic mix of ink, mylar, pigment stick, and glitter offer a visual sorbet of sorts to cleanse the palate of standard beauty tropes. Though she is in her forties, Demosthene’s multimedia work shares an affinity with a younger peer, Tschabalala Self, who takes a similar poetic license in her tumescent depictions of the black female body. Demosthene seems poised for her breakout moment; she’ll have a solo show with Ibrahim after her gallery moves from Seattle to Chicago later this year. The larger works on offer at the fair are a relatively affordable $7,000, though Ibrahim cheerfully noted, just a couple of hours into the preview, that most had already sold.

Sorry We’re Closed

Focus Section, Booth F4

With works by Eric Croes

Installation view of Sorry We’re Closed’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of Sorry We’re Closed.

The whimsical ceramics of Brussels-based artist Eric Croes make for a vibrant gateway to Pier 90. The colorful works on view—including five towering totems made from 10 to 12 different pieces—speak to the artist’s interest in reimagining Japanese masks, Aztec figures, and other ancient art and craft traditions. Many works appear as though they’re melding together distinct ideas—and they are. Croes often begins his sculptures with exquisite corpse drawings that he creates with friends, which he then translates into sculpture. This method lends the work a “surrealistic, Belgian touch,” said gallery director Emilie Pischedda.

Victoria Miro

Galleries Section, Booth 600

With works by Alice Neel, Wangechi Mutu, Chris Ofili, Celia Paul, and Howardena Pindell

Installation view of Victoria Miro’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. © Celia Paul. Courtesy of the artist and Victoria Miro, London/Venice.

Celia Paul’s light-filled paintings of women and the sea never fail to stun. Victoria Miro’s spotlight on her work gives this quiet, gentle practice its due. Her nubby canvases add texture to her fragile brushstrokes, and the drips and cracks that enhance their character and imperfection. Paul’s oeuvre sooner evokes 19th-century literature than anything remotely contemporary, but the potency of Paul’s hues and gestures establish the paintings’ relevance for any age.

The gallery also dedicated space to a series of watercolors by Chris Ofili; they feature mermaids, carnival hues, curlicues, and kissing. Victoria Miro director and partner Glenn Scott Wright noted that the artist recently gave them the paintings, but the gallery intentionally held onto them in order to show them at Armory—“That way, more people would see them,” he said.

A final solo presentation in the booth is given to Alice Neel. Richard with Dog (1954) is a highlight; the painting features a mustachioed man in a red-and-green floral shirt as he rests against a tree, a pug peeping from beneath his right arm. The exemplary piece reminds us that while most of Neel’s subjects are long gone, the characters she created remain as redoubtable as ever.

Charlie James Gallery

Presents Section, Booth P16

With works by Sadie Barnette

Installation view of Sadie Barnette’s solo presentation at Charlie James’ booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of Charlie James.

Installation view of Sadie Barnette’s solo presentation at Charlie James’ booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of Charlie James.

Installation view of Sadie Barnette’s solo presentation at Charlie James’ booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of Charlie James.

Gallerist Charlie James groaned as a young woman entered the centerpiece of Sadie Barnette’s installation—a ring of retro, sparkly pink speaker sets and vinyl seats—to snap a selfie. Despite its inevitable Instagram draw (the carpet of James’s booth is also bubblegum pink), the installation as a whole suggests a narrative more complex than the typically shiny treats offered elsewhere at the fair. The Oakland-based artist, who gained attention for a 2017 series that presented the massive dossier the FBI had gathered on her Black Panther father, further investigates the trappings of black life in America. The domestic, Afrofuturist vision constructed here includes crushed soda cans, similarly coated in glistening metallic car paint, littered across the installation; outdated technologies like an off-the-hook landline and a handheld calculator; and photographs (showing a crumpled dollar bill, hair picks, and the artist’s car) alternately overlaid with pink bows and polka dots. In this case, the glitz functions “not as bling, but deliverance,” James said, which adds “a cosmic glint to vernacular black imagery.”

Kohn Gallery

Galleries Section, Booth 614

With works by Jonathan Lyndon Chase and John Altoon

Installation view of Kohn Gallery’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of the Kohn Gallery.

Gallerist Josh Friedman told me that by midday, three institutions (including Minneapolis’s Walker Art Center and the Institute of Contemporary Art Miami) had already purchased the bright, large-scale paintings of young Philadelphia-based artist Jonathan Lyndon Chase. All created since November, these canvases (all 2018) debut alongside airbrush, pastel, and ink-on-board works by Los Angeles–based artist John Altoon, who died in 1969, at age 43. Friedman hopes that booth visitors will consider how two men on different coasts, working five decades apart, broke “certain conventions of how the body needs to look.”

Chase’s practice, like Altoon’s, is rooted in drawing. Though his massive canvases can feature acrylic paint, marker, chalk, pastel, glitter, and spray paint, his own wobbling line makes them feel intimate. Run away with me, for example, features a reclining, androgynous body that’s less a realist portrait than it is a tangle of limbs; cross-hatched yellow lines and green clothing melt into the painting’s background. Behind the figure, Chase lightly rendered an apparent goal post, which creates a sense of depth within the composition. Chase embraces queer love and lust (often among African-American characters) throughout his canvases—in one painting, Bad dream, a man explicitly reaches into another’s shorts. “You feel his touch in everything he does,” said Friedman.

Robert Koch Gallery

Insights Section, Booth 120

With works by Foto Ada, Ferenc Csík, Ferenc Haár, György Kepes, André Kertész, Károly Kismányoky, László Moholy-Nagy, Arthur Segal, and Endre Szász

Installation view of Robert Koch Gallery’s booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Courtesy of the Robert Koch Gallery.

In the first half of the 20th century, Hungarian artists living in their country and as expats abroad redefined what photography and images could do. László Moholy-Nagy, arguably the best known of the group, produced striking photograms, a term that he coined. The last-known photogram by the influential Bauhaus instructor, made in 1946, is on view here (and on offer for $75,000). It’s a gorgeous, supremely modern work that seems to foretell complex grayscale experiments by contemporary artists like Avery K. Singer.

Moholy-Nagy, however, is, for the first time, outshined in an exhibition by his largely overshadowed colleague György Kepes. Among the numerous examples of Kepes’s masterful photographs and photograms, his mixed-media paintings on view are a special surprise. Untitled (Skeleton in frame with newspaper) (1938–40), composed of newspaper, gouache, ink, and a photograph, is a relative steal at $28,000. Also on offer: poignant photo collages by Foto Ada ($6,500 each) and works by subsequent generations of Hungarian artists, including Endre Szász, André Kertész, and Károly Kismányoky.

Galleri Bo Bjerggaard

Galleries Section, Booth 615

With works by Anna Bjerger, Jules de Balincourt. Per Bak Jensen, Peter Linde Busk, Per Kirkeby, John Kørner, Tal R, and Janaina Tschäpe

Waist, 2013. Anna Bjerger Galleri Bo Bjerggaard

Perhpas, I will Angrier Later, as I will be Happier, 2010-2018. Peter Linde Busk Galleri Bo Bjerggaard

One of the most reliable ways for artists to raise awareness of their work is, unfortunately, to die. Galleri Bo Bjerggaard representative Jeanette Lindholdt Madsen affirmed that she’s seen renewed interest in Danish painter Per Kirkeby’s canvases since the Danish artist passed in 2018. “Obviously, we see a lot more going on with auctions, but also people approaching us and asking if we want to buy work,” she said, adding that the finite inventory of his work has increased collector demand. The booth features his lush gouaches and oils on canvas, in which the artist abstracted the natural landscape into moody swaths of deep greens and browns.

Alongside the Kirkeby works, the gallery shows a presentation of northern European artists. It includes a lovely pastel-hued landscape by Janaina Tschäpe (Germany); striking multimedia collages by Peter Linde Busk (Denmark); a boldly hued, blocky canvas by Tal R (Denmark and Israel); and a painting of shoes by Anna Bjerger (Sweden)—a young artist who sources pictures from magazines and other existing sources, then renders select details on canvas.

Susanne Vielmetter Los Angeles Projects

Galleries Section, Booth 803

With works by Nick Aguayo, Edgar Arceneaux, My Barbarian, Whitney Bedford, Sadie Benning, Ellen Berkenblit, Andrea Bowers, Jedediah Caesar, Kim Dingle, Sean Duffy, Nicole Eisenman, Charles Gaines, Liz Glynn, Karl Haendel, Stanya Kahn, Hayv Kahraman, Raffi Kalenderian, Mary Kelly, Samuel Levi Jones, Shana Lutker, Dave McKenzie, Rodney McMillian, Yunhee Min, Wangechi Mutu, Elizabeth Neel, Ruben Ochoa, Angel Otero, Pope.L, Mary Reid Kelley, Steve Roden, Arlene Shechet, Dasha Shishkin, Amy Sillman, Mickalene Thomas, Nicola Tyson, Monique Van Genderen, Tam Van Tran, and Patrick Wilson

Installation view of Susanne Vielmetter Los Angeles Projects’ booth at The Armory Show, New York, 2019. Photo by Dawn Blackman. Courtesy of Susanne Vielmetter Los Angeles Projects.

A choice wall of Susanne Vielmetter’s smart presentation hosts a fresh installation by the emerging artistGenevieve Gaignard (whose works on view are priced between $4,000 and $20,000). A yellow grandfather clock stuffed with books and thrift-store tchotchkes reminiscent of Gaignard’s childhood also includes a porcelain figure that the artist manipulated, replacing its head with one of a stereotypical “mammy” figure. In addition to one of Gaignard’s signature self-portraits—in which she’s dressed as a 1950s-era white woman in a beehive hairstyle—booth highlights include new Rorschach-esque abstract paintings by Elizabeth Neel, priced at $25,000–$40,000; a wall piece by Rodney McMillian made from a found crocheted blanket slathered with industrial house paint; a trio of Sadie Benning paintings; an Arlene Shechet ceramic that resembles a Mondrian crossed with a Rubik’s Cube; and a $9,000 painting by April Street made from vintage nylons that she dyes, stuffs, and paints to create voluminous works with hints of the quiet drama of Dutch still lifes.

from Artsy News

[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: From Flash Tattoos to a Fotomat Shack, Looking Beyond Books at the LA Art Book Fair 2017

Printed Matter’s LA Art Book Fair 2017 (all photos by the author for Hyperallergic)

LOS ANGELES — Printed Matter’s fifth annual LA Art Book Fair (LAABF) descended on the MOCA Geffen last weekend, bringing a staggering 300 publishers, galleries, artists, and booksellers to a consistently packed house of bibliophiles (15,000 people attended on Saturday alone). Among the photocopied zines, limited-edition monographs, and antiquarian offerings, some of the highlights weren’t books at all, but objects that expanded upon the idea of what books can provide: an affordable means to experience and collect art, democratizing it in the same way that the printing press democratized information almost 600 years ago.

Kembra Pfahler’s opening night performance for LAABF 2017

Opening night festivities were capped off by a riotous performance by artist, musician, filmmaker, and actress Kembra Pfahler. Clad in little more than red body paint, with blacked-out teeth and a tangled, oversized wig, Pfahler ripped through a rough, fierce, and often funny set of punk tunes, backed by musicians Gyda Gash and Neon Music and two lookalike backup dancer/singers. She held back nothing back, hurling into the audience with gleeful abandon a tambourine, “future feminist” shirts, her underwear, and finally a crucifix that had been inserted into her vagina by a band member. If you missed her set, her London gallery, Emalin, had some of her photo books for sale and had decorated its booth wall with her butt prints.

Emalin gallery’s booth, with works by Kembra Pfahler

Outside the fair building, Slow Culture gallery set up an actual Fotomat shack, sponsored by Kodak and Vans, which not only sold 35mm film but offered 24-hour developing as well. They assembled a rotating cast of photographers to man the booth, including Cheryl Dunn, Jim Goldberg, and Ed Templeton, who each had a $100 print for sale in editions of 20 during their shifts. On opening night, there was a steady stream of visitors dropping off rolls of film.

Slow Culture’s Fotomat shack

Inside the fair, one of the most impressive installations was a room showcasing Teen Angels, a magazine dedicated to Chicano/Cholo/lowrider culture that ran from 1981 to 2000. At the time, the artist behind the publication was unknown, but many assumed him to be Latino — until a fan, David de Baca, found and befriended him: a white San Bernardino man named David Holland. He died in 2015, but de Baca manages Holland’s archive and has put together a book of the magazine’s hand-drawn cover art. The LAABF installation featured a wide selection of covers as well as a re-creation of Holland’s studio. The display wasn’t just about selling copies, but about highlighting the power of publications to connect individuals and communities by reproducing and spreading images of a shared culture.

Covers of David Holland’s Teen Angels

Teen Angels studio

Teen Angels display

The aptly named poster press The Posters launched a collaborative edition at the fair, featuring an image by John Baldessari with all the color stripped out. Visitors could purchase the black-and white-poster as it was or make their own edition at a station filled with art supplies in the MOCA bookstore. Several well-known artists had completed their own versions, including Lucien Smith, Mickalene Thomas, and Henry Taylor. Each version is being photographed for a planned publication.

Cassi Gibson and Henry Taylor with Taylor’s enhanced Baldessari poster

The Thing Quarterly, a Bay Area–based publisher of art objects, was celebrating its 10th anniversary with a booth showcasing a decade of editions. The team works with artists and manufacturers to create objects that are accessible and affordable but still distinctive, often locally produced and handcrafted. The latest edition is a trap-and-release spider set featuring hand-blown glass by LA artist Amanda Ross-Ho.

The Thing Quarterly table

Another vendor offering handmade, thoughtfully designed objects was Bob Dornberger, the “objects workshop leader” at wHY Architecture. Dornberger’s micro-booth was filled with his idiosyncratic but impressively constructed items, like a brick brush with bristles or a diamond-cut stone that appears to have a bite taken out of it.

Bob Dornberger with his mini-booth

Artist Edgar Bryan was back selling his object-like books, complementing his pizza book from 2015 with a silkscreened beer book that features actual pop-up six-pack holders. He said he promptly sold out after Hyperallergic posted a video of the piece on social media on opening night.

Edgar Bryan showcasing one of his object-like books

Gagosian Gallery, the international powerhouse usually associated with multimillion-dollar blue-chip artists like Damien Hirst, tried to fit in with its surroundings by focusing on intangible works of art. As at Printed Matter’s NY Art Book Fair last fall, the gallery had commissioned flash tattoo designs from 12 contemporary artists, including Sterling Ruby, Kenneth Anger, and Henry Taylor. Unlike traditional flash designs, which come in unlimited editions, these came each in editions of six, “since museums need to be able to authenticate their acquisitions,” said Gagosian archivist and librarian Ben Lee Ritchie Handler as he showed off his fresh Analia Saban ink. By Saturday, all the appointments had been booked except for a few slots for Haas Brothers’ designs.

Gagosian Gallery’s

If you found the volume of publications, objects, and other offerings at the LAABF a bit daunting, the students at Dutch Design School Werkplaats Typografie understood — and had put together a project dealing directly with this dilemma. As part of a six-week residency at ArtCenter College of Design in Pasadena, 18 students had set up a publishing house at the fair, where each hour they would print, bind, and release a new 20-page publication, complete with a champagne-drenched launch party. Inspired by the pressure of trying to keep up with the latest and hippest publications, “we wanted to push this feeling by going to the extreme,” said student Melina Wilson. “No one can catch us. We’re the newest, regardless of what the quality is.”

Werkplaats Typografie’s booth

Printed Matter’s LA Art Book Fair 2017 took place at the Geffen Contemporary at MOCA (152 N Central Avenue, Los Angeles) on February 24–26.

The post From Flash Tattoos to a Fotomat Shack, Looking Beyond Books at the LA Art Book Fair 2017 appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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[rovingwagons]

Friday Five ICON EDITION with the Ritchie Handlers'

It's Fashion Week, as if you didn't notice, and this week's Friday Five features Los Angeles-based style icons, Ben Lee and Vivian Ritchie Handler.  Their name alone already wins marriage.  The rest of us should just give up.  

Ben Lee and Vivian have this inexplicable cool that seems infinite.  Vivian, with her thick, blunt bangs and effortlessly dramatic stare, would have been a sensational star of silent film in the 1920s.  Or maybe they would have been fixtures at Dom in the 1960s, with Ben Lee's connection to art palpable whether he's wearing briefs or a bowtie.  It's like, if I hang out with them long enough, maybe I'll wake up fluent in Italian with a background in Expressionism?  Let's hope.  

What was the first outfit you truly loved?

Viv: Rachel Comey bubble dress!  I've worn that thing so much, I've had to patch holes in it.  I don't think Ben likes it though...it doesn't show off my "figure" (boobs.)

Ben Lee: I love Viv's boobs.  I also loved a sticker tee I had when I was four years old.  Remember those sticker-tees, with the thick iron-on graphics that would survive more washings than the actual garment?  I had a gliterry one, with C-3PO and R2D2 on the front.  Pair that with my purple Stubbies shorts and some penny loafers and I was good-to-go, age four through seven.  

Which brand do you find the most timeless?

Viv: I love me some Henrik Vibskov....how he works with prints!  And he's Danish!  We love it!  My definition of "timeless" in reference to fashion = materials that are lush or original and garments that are well-crafted.  

Ben Lee:  I generally grow tired of anything that's been in my closet for longer than a year, but hasn't Louis Vuitton been around since the middle ages?  I've never actually owned anything by them, but I've seen both REALLY OLD people and the Beckham/Posh Spice children accessorized to the grills in LV, so there you go!  TIMELESSNESS.

Who are you wearing RIGHT NOW?

Viv: Oh no.  I should have answered this question on a day I wasn't rushing to get to work.  Black stretch pants and a baggy sweater...I know, I know....I'm the height of fashion.  

Ben Lee:  I'm decked-out in acquisitions from our honeymoon in Copenhagen.  A Wood Wood striped sweater, black skinny jeans from ACNE and black leather Repettos.  

What inspires your confidence to be bold?

Viv:  Ben Lee.  That dude's down for whatever.

Ben Lee:  Viv's boobs.  

Viv's Current Jam:  Sparks!  The answer to this question is always Sparks.

Ben Lee's Current Jam:  Rectangle by Jacno.  

[paysagesinterieurs]

Texte 312 - Machine à lever des rêves

Los Angeles 13/2/20 _ Je devais récupérer mes 400 billets vers 16h chez Staples. J’ai demandé au chauffeur Lyft si il pouvait m’attendre le temps que je récupère et paye ma commande. No problem. Ok cool! Récupérer une commande EN La Bambina c’est une scène de film sans caméra, sans spot, sans maquilleurse, sans metteurse en scène, sans chef-fe op’, sans ingé son, sans producteurice, sans cachet, sans acteurice, sauf moi! Vérifier ma commande, et saluer le public qui ne demande rien. Courir dans Staples pour rejoindre au plus vite le taxi qui m’attend au soleil, savoir que tout le monde regarde l’actrice principale de ce non-film, et quitter le magasin sans entendre « couper! ». Savoir que je suis regardée, et que j’intrigue un public semi-conscient qu’il est un public, me fait avoir des gestes amples, comme si je voulais faire plaisir au non-cinéaste en réussissant la non-prise du premier coup. Bref, dans la voiture je prépare environ 100 billets, pour la Felix Art Fair qui se passe au Hollywood Roosevelt. J’espère que je vais voir Martha Kirszenbaum, la curatrice du Pavillon français Deep See Blue Surrounding You de Laure Prouvost. J’ai vu qu’elle venait d’arriver à Los Angeles. Je m’en doutais qu’elle y serait. J’espère qu’on aura l’occasion de danser ensemble. Si c’est pas ici et maintenant, ce sera plus tard courant 2020 à Paris, Marseille ou Rome. J’ai acheté mon ticket pour la Felix Art Fair, hier par internet à 25$. J’aurais pas dû, Aaron m’a filé un pass VIP qui me donne même accès à l’opening plus tôt. Bref, je me plante autour de la piscine, je me prends un cocktail et j’observe. Ce que c’est beau. Il y a la piscine dont la fresque a été réalisée par David Hockney, les palmiers au soleil couchant, le néon rouge sublime Hôtel Roosevelt et l’architecture de l’hôtel qui date de 1927. En lisant le Wikipedia, j’apprends que Marilyn y a vécu deux ans au début de sa carrière de mannequin, et qu’elle a fait des photos autour de la piscine. Énorme. Sublime elle est, au bord de la piscine. Toujours. Un être divin dans un lieu superbe. Normal. Et j’ai posé mes pas sur ses pas. Je me suis peut-être positionné à l’endroit où elle-même s’est positionnée et a visualisé sa propre carrière qui ne l’avait pas encore projetée au plus haut. Je souris en songeant à mon avenir qui sera peut-être sombre, mais pour le moment je souris et savoure. Je visite les galeries des 11ème et 12ème étages avec Aaron, puis une jeune femme que j’ai vue plusieurs fois nous rejoint. Elle est une amie d’Aaron, plutôt froide, mais je m’en fous car je suis La Bambina. Son look est top. Elle doit avoir 27 ans, elle mesure environ 1,58m, les cheveux longs, bien fournis, ondulés, et châtains. Son corps est mince même si on ne le voit pas car elle fait le choix d’avoir le look porte-manteau, ou cintre à toi de choiz’. Visualise une veste en cuir noire et droite, trop grande, des années 90, dont le poids la fait légèrement se voûter, du coup son cou part un peu vers l’avant, ajoutant à son air perpétuellement blasé, lasse de tout. Elle est là, bien là mais montre avec une délectation dissimulée qu’elle serait mieux ailleurs. Ses cheveux sont sa partie la plus vivante, on entrevoit ses yeux derrière des petits verres ovales fumés couleur café dilué, elle a une peau légèrement grêlée, elle n’est pas chaleureuse, elle n’est pas vraiment belle, elle est très intrigante. /Son film à elle c’est un film noir, nuit noire, vent chaud, vieille dodge à bords rouillés, sa tête à la fenêtre, on dirait une enfant une seconde seulement, cadavres de canettes de bières et de bouteilles de whisky à ses pieds, elle ne craint pas la mort, elle semble l’incarner./ À chaque fois que je la vois, elle est greffée d’un vieux. Ses yeux cherchent peu de connexions. Elle reste environ une heure. Elle se barre comme elle est arrivée, mains dans les poches, sans s’abaisser à dire au revoir. On arrive à la Nicodim Gallery où il y a une foule constante, on dirait qu’on rejoue la Crowded Cabin Scene de A Night At The Opera des Marx Brothers. Ben me voit! Ben Lee!! Ben Lee Ritchie Handler! Vous vous souvenez le pro de LA à connaître, à suivre absolument, à tourner autour, à côtoyer, à titiller, et bien il me voit dans le couloir et direct il ouvre ses bras pour que je me dépêche de venir à lui. Cette fois-ci il me reconnaît vraiment. Je lui file un billet. Il est très content, il doit avoir fumé. Je frétille comme une gamine. Il a dû voir mon selfy avec Job, le pro de la Côte Est à suivre absolument -Performa New York, pour être autant excité de me voir. Je l’intrigue peut-être un peu aussi. Enfin La Bambina. Il y a la fille de Lita [Albukeurki], Isabelle Albuquerque, assise face à sa sculpture : un corps de femme allongé aux jambes écartées, blanc, sans pied, sans tête, tenant une bougie allumée qui sort de son sexe. On quitte la Nicodim Gallery alors qu’il y a toujours foule autour de Ben. On se fait une bière autour de la piscine, une autre amie d’Aaron nous rejoint. 1,80, 70kilos, toute de noir vêtue, style cow boy. Colosse bien charpentée, grande, 10 ans de moins que moi en gros, elle est d’origine polonaise. Après la bière, Aaron nous dit que c’est le moment d’aller ailleurs. Je serais bien restée autour de la piscine, mais je lui fais confiance, il a toujours des bons plans, et un planning ficelé. Au fait, je vous ai pas raconté qu’il salue plein de monde tout le temps, et qu’il leur dit en général un truc genre : - Hey Salut! Tu vas où toi maintenant? La plupart du temps, les gens lui disent qu’ils font rien ou qu’ils vont à tel endroit. Et lui du coup leur dit qu’il faut aller là ou il va, parce que ça va être génial. C’est systématique. Sauf si l’autre personne a mieux, et là il se demerde pour obtenir un PASS, une invit’ ou une astuce pour entrer. Bref, on quitte la Felix Art Fair. Aaron prend son scooter comme d’hab’ et moi je grimpe dans l’auto de la colosse en noir. Je ne pensais pas qu’il soit possible de conduire en regardant aussi peu la route. N’empêche qu’elle est bien sympa de m’amener, ça me fait économiser 7 à 15$. Elle conduit une vieille voiture dont je ne sais plus la marque. Direction assistée : néant Vibrations de la carcasse : 99,9% Sensation de sécurité : -10 Sécurité réelle : -30 Propreté : néant Du haut de ses 1,80m elle pose des yeux discrets sur les gens et les choses, son chapeau noir de cow girl lui donne un air mystérieux, sa chevelure est raide et noire, son manteau en fourrure de laine noire lui donne une allure de gorille attirant. Elle frappe le sol comme si ses jambes étaient des fouets. Je l’imagine venant d’un Ranch au dessus d’Hollywood Hills. Elle a dû sniffer un truc quand même, elle est bien là mais elle ponctue ses phrases, dites sur une expiration longue et poussée, de rires monotones et nerveux se terminant par des inspirations saccadées, comme si son nez était à la recherche de quelques poudres volatiles. On se largue aussitôt arrivées. Non pas que nous soyons lasses l’une de l’autre, mais nos chemins se séparent, je crois que c’est parce que je suis Aaron qui me convainc de quitter la piste de danse, pour découvrir l’ensemble du bâtiment dédié au co-working. Je rencontre de nouvelles personnes, je danse, je distribue des billets, face à des platines laissées là je mime que je mixe. Aaron filme mes délires. Délires qui attirent du monde, on me félicite, on me dit qu’on m’aime, j’air-mixe de plus belle, on me prend en photo, on me dit « who are you? », je dis que je suis « a French visual artist » et je refile des billets. Les gens sont heureux. Et moi aussi. Je retrouve la colosse qui m’amène au prochain lieu. En quittant le parking, elle bousille un peu plus sa bagnole en roulant sur une borne traitre. Ça la fait rire. Nous arrivons à l’hôtel de luxe, mais l’événement est désormais clos au public. Nous montons avec des clients de l’hôtel qui ont une clef qui fait fonctionner l’ascenseur. La colosse appuie direct sur l’étage qui nous intéresse, mais l’ascenseur s’arrête à l’étage des clients et ne repart pas. On erre dans les couloirs moquettés, on trouve les escaliers, on les monte à grandes enjambées, et on arrive sur une porte vitrée fermée donnant sur la terrasse. On rigole d’abord comme des petites filles puis on interpelle comme des lionnes en cage deux hommes qui passent.Ils nous ouvrent. Et nous voilà libérées. Fête. Cocktails. Aaron me filme un peu parmi les œuvres commerciales de cet événement. Puis l’espace ferme ses portes. Nous prenons l’ascenseur et nous rencontrons des mecs, sympas. Je leur file des billets. On rigole. On sympathise. La colosse repart vers son ranch. Et me voilà embarquée dans la bagnole hyper luxe de mes nouveaux amis Irano-roumano-afghano-arabo-américains vers la prochaine destination : The Abbey. The Best Gay Bar in Los Angeles. Des mecs gorgés de muscles en slip, ondulent sur des scènes, autour de barres et de cordes, en fixant dans les yeux les regardeurses, des femmes plantureuses assoiffées de sexe, chaudes, riches, déposent des billets là où elles peuvent et surtout là où elles veulent. Moi je mate surtout les mecs qui ont des gestes de pénétrants, je ne sais pas comment dire, les virils. Je me nourris tellement des gestes masculins pour incarner mes personnages. Pour moi, Marilyn Monroe, Rita Hayworth, Sophia Loren ont ça : des gestes virils, de pénétrantes. Bref, je mate aussi, comment puis-je dire, pour la beauté de ces corps nus mis à la disposition des yeux et la tension sexuelle que cela procure. Mais ça me coupe l’énergie de la danse, ça me coupe la chique des pattes et des hanches et du buste, je ne fais que gigoter en observant ces corps-machines-sexuelles. Des machines à laver ou plutôt machines à lever des bites. Bref je mate. Et c’est très agréable, ça donne des frissons. Mes yeux procurent à mon cerveau de délicieux moments. Presque autant que quand j’entends le V8 d’une Dodge. Peut-être devrais-je créer une sculpture à l’image de ces corps galbés sur lesquels dégoulinerait du Champagne sans fin au son de moteurs V8, avec un défilement de palmiers sur « feu Route 66 ». Je m’imagine toucher ces corps galbés qui s’agitent, il faut dire qu’il y a un mec, en slip, il est sur un coin VIP, juste derrière moi, moins d’un mètre, si j’étais une meuf chaude j’ondulerai autour de lui avec un esprit fun, mais c’est pas mon truc de me donner en spectacle à connotations sexuelles, par contre je ne cesse de me retourner pour le mater. La Bambina ne se gêne pas, elle fait du sur place et se retourne de plus en plus fréquemment. On dirait une mémé. Dès qu’elle en ressent le besoin, elle se retourne. Finalement, elle ne mate plus que lui, il faut dire que son corps est intéressant, comme si il était une corne d’abondance de fruits. Ne pensez pas qu’elle soit une obsédée, elle le fait pour moi pour que je puisse écrire sur lui. Il « danse ». En réalité, il fait des flexions en rythme, en se caressant la tête de temps en temps et en souriant heureux d’être devenu ce corps que pas mal de personnes regardent. Paradoxalement, ce corps aux gestes limités, plaît à mes yeux. J’apprends de lui pour mes prochaines perf’. Merci mec’. Ce qui compte c’est incarner quelque chose de désirable et d’inaccessible à la fois. Une machine à lever des rêves.