I’m not sure Maya Lin can decide what she wants to be when she grows up. Maybe a scientist, maybe an architect, or how about an artist. I think the art world has decided she belongs in a museum gallery, no matter what you call her. Her current exhibit at the de Young, Systematic Landscapes is a showstopper. Like SFMOMA, the de Young hints at the artwork hidden in the basement by offering a spectacular work in the main lobby. 2 x 4 Landscape (2006) is just what it claims to be, a landscape-like scene created from 2 x 4s. But that’s part of what makes Lin’s work amazing, simple materials are transformed into astounding vistas. You can watch the installation of this work here.
It’s funny how themes begin to appear as you spend time in museums. Lin’s exhibit was the perfect compliment to Martin Puryear’s show at SFMOMA. Both shows tried to define spaces that are nearly impossible to characterize. They both ask the viewer to consider the idea of self and our relationship to the environment around us—an interesting idea at a time when we seem intent on jeopardizing our world and ourselves.
One of my favorite moments in the show is the maquette for Lin’s work that is now a permanent sculpture at the California Academy of Sciences, just across the street from the de Young. This is a big maquette, nearly filling one end of a large gallery. So you can only imagine the size of the final work. And the accompanying photographs that show how the sculpture was created add to the interest.
Systematic Landscapes is packed with beauty and emotion. It’s on display through January 19, 2008.
Religion and war; two ideas that are weirdly related. I’ve personally contemplated the relationship in my own attempts at art. And history proves the two just can’t get over each other.
At the de Young, I encountered an artist I’d never heard of, Al Farrow. He creates mash-ups of religion and violence. Mash-ups so beautiful, you have to look twice to spot the aggression.
Farrow uses the detritus of war to create art. Bullets, guns, and other weaponry are his medium. I’m not talking about representations of these items—he uses the real stuff. He architects these materials into sculptures that are pure religion. Take The Spine and Tooth of Santo Guerro (see inset photo). This work is a stunning cathedral crafted from weaponry. It’s amazing how much a machine gun can mimic the flying buttresses of a Baroque cathedral.
Farrow doesn’t just pick on the Christians. He also takes on mosques and synagogues. It seems that no matter who’s your god, he or she wants you to blow up the sinners.
The art of war takes on a whole new meaning. In the Name of God: War, Religion, and the Reliquaries of Al Farrow is on display through February 15, 2009.
The COMME des GARCONS line at the H&M wasn’t the only fashion event in San Fran this month. The de Young was hosting a show featuring clothes by legendary designer, Yves Saint Lauren. While the show was tiring (there were a lot of dresses), it offered a rare glimpse into the world of haute couture.
What is haute couture? It’s exclusive, made-to-measure fashions that are created for a specific customer. In France, the term is protected by law and is defined by the Chambre de Commerce et dâ Industrie de Paris. The requirements to call a collection haute couture are extreme—that’s why such collections are so rare.
The best clothes in the show are the simple dresses from the 50s and 60s that defined the career of Saint Lauren. And many of the dresses were labeled with the phrase “made to order for,” followed by names like Catherine Deneuve, HRH Princess Grace of Monaco, Diane Von Furstenberg, HRH the Duchess of Windsor, and Lauren Bacall.
I will say, the craftsmanship on many of the dresses was mind-boggling. The beading, embroidering, rhinestones, appliqué, and other time-intensive work—always done by hand—were spectacular. It’s no surprise these dresses cost tens of thousands of dollars.
Some of the most outrageous works came in the form of wedding dresses. Take the hand-knit, wool wedding dress that looked like a giant cocoon. I couldn’t stop thinking that the outfit would make for one hot, itchy bride. Balance that with the barely-there, floral wedding dress on the opposite end of the gallery. This was nothing more than a gauzy wisp of fabric and a few strategically placed silk roses. I know which dress the groom would prefer.
All in all, this show was too much. The crowded galleries made the most spectacular clothes seem ordinary. I think the show would have been better in a bigger space, or with fewer clothes. But it was still fun to see fashion at its best.
Step onto the walkway that leads to the entrance of the de Young and you’ve stepped onto a work of art. The beautiful stone pavement is flawed. And I’m guessing that most visitors see it as a flaw. But in reality, it’s the beginning of a site-specific artwork created by the wizard of environmental art, Andy Goldsworthy.
Drawn Stone (2005) is inspired by the unique character of California’s tectonic topography. It’s a crack. At first it’s a straight crack that runs right through the walkway. But then it runs into a rock—a rock that is split by the same crack. As you enter the courtyard the crack wanders through the paving stones and splits other large rocks imported from Goldsworthy’s home of Yorkshire, England. These rocks now serve as seating for museum visitors.
This is art that lives up to Goldsworthy’s ethereal nature. And at first it seems simplistic. But as you follow the crack, it gets ever more intriguing. You realize that in the world of art, where cracks are almost always a bad thing, this is one nice crack.
How about those San Francisco cab drivers? They all seem just a little crazy. Most are at least chatty. Many are flat out excited that you’re in their car. Take the non-active Mormon who drove us to the de Young museum in Golden Gate Park. He had plenty to talk about from the weather to smog in Beijing (even producing a newspaper photo of the horrific Beijing smog.) “San Francisco doesn’t have smog,” he noted.
But the big news from the driver’s seat was the recent opening of the new California Academy of Sciences, just across the street from the de Young. He suggested the de Young is nice, but our trip might be even better if we went to the Academy.
I wouldn’t have taken this comment seriously except the new building for the California Academy of Sciences was designed by Renzo Piano and has been all the rage in the architecture and art magazines. It’s also the greenest museum in the world, having achieved a LEEDS platinum rating, an almost impossible accomplishment.
Though time was tight, we decided to hit the Academy just as it opened. At $24.95, it’s not a cheap museum ticket. But the place is unbelievable. We only had a couple of hours and that is no where near enough time. You can easily eat up the better part of a day at the Academy. We had to focus our time so we spent the morning exploring Water Planet on the lower level.
Here’s an aquarium like none I’ve visited. The walls in the central walkway are composed of a perfectly lit, undulating silvery material. The projection technology is so cool it almost upstages the creatures in the tanks. Almost. The fish, frogs, and snakes are great. Take the tank filled with Leafy Sea Dragons and Weedy Sea Dragons. I can’t even describe them. And the Mossy Frogs—it took a long time to find them, even though they were right in front of our eyes resting in their mossy home. In fact, that was part of the fun. Many of the displays were like a biological Where’s Waldo game as you tried to find the creatures hidden within each tank.
We also visited the swamp where we found an albino alligator and turtles saved in the 1970s, rescued on their way to a restaurant—how’s that for a San Francisco story. One turtle stared up at us, imploring us to help him escape again.
Things we didn’t get to do? There was no time to go through the Rain Forests of the World, a giant, gleaming glass globe that contains an actual rain forest. We didn’t make it to the Planetarium, a giant white globe on the opposite side of the museum. Nor did we have a chance to make the trip to the roof, 2.5 acres of which is planted with native vegetation, making it the largest area of native vegetation in San Francisco. At least I have another good reason to return to San Francisco soon.
A lot of people throw around the word camp. But few deliver real camp like Beach Blanket Babylon, that most San Franciscan of cheap theater. And by cheap, I mean theater that relies on smart performances, creative costuming, and clever sets more than big production budgets.
Since 1974, Beach Blanket Babylon has been a San Francisco tradition, with a constantly changing cast of characters, instantly updated songs, and ever bigger hats. It all takes place at Club Fugazi, a space that feels like something out of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Sure, the whole thing has become a little touristy. But it’s still funny—and wildly entertaining.
Beach Blanket Babylon owes much of its success to the cast, a hard working group of performers. They’re either on stage singing and dancing or behind the scenes making some impossible costume changes—morphing into caricature after caricature of politicos, entertainers, even French poodles.
And then there’s the whip-smart, oh-so-current humor. Though the elections took place just days ago, the admittedly loose story line and the lyrics have already been updated to reflect the new reality. I’m guessing the show is different almost every time you see it. Maybe that’s why it’s lasted more than thirty years.
I like the way SFMOMA uses it’s atrium to hint at the special exhibits hidden inside the museum. Last time I was there it was Olafur Eliasson’s crazy fan. This time, it was two dizzying works by Martin Puryear: Ladder for Booker T. Washington (1996) and Ad Astra (2007), a 63-foot tall sculpture that rises all the way to the museum’s fifth floor. You’ve got to have a big museum to show these works. And I still wanna know how they moved this exhibit from New York to San Francisco.
After the lobby, you don’t see another Puryear sculpture for the next four floors. You almost forget the dramatic nature of the sculptures. Finally, as you cross that scary mesh metal walkway to the fifth floor galleries, you’re ushered into the strange and beautiful world of Martin Puryear. These monumental, contemplative works are intricately crafted from wood, stone, tar, and rawhide.
The sculptures are all about craftsmanship taken to astonishing heights. They also feel strangely historical and seem to speak to personal or cultural identity. A perfect example is Self. This monolithic wood sculpture was created by covering an armature with a smooth, rounded shell. The armature was then removed leaving a void that the viewer cannot see, only imagine.
Much of Puryear’s work is about defining space and creating containment. Take Brunhilde (1998-2000). The basket-like sculpture made from wooden slats seems ready to burst in its effort to contain space. I loved the thousands of staple holes, remnants of the effort required to create the shape.
Even the presentation of the exhibition seems designed to reflect Puryear’s understanding of space. This show is beautiful. The open expanses of SFMOMA’s fifth floor are a perfect environment for the sculptures. And a perfect place to escape.
I’m not sure Maya Lin can decide what she wants to be when she grows up. Maybe a scientist, maybe an architect, or how about an artist. I think the art world has decided she belongs in a museum gallery, no matter what you call her. Her current exhibit at the de Young, Systematic Landscapes is a showstopper. Like SFMOMA, the de Young hints at the artwork hidden in the basement by offering a spectacular work in the main lobby. 2 x 4 Landscape (2006) is just what it claims to be, a landscape-like scene created from 2 x 4s. But that’s part of what makes Lin’s work amazing, simple materials are transformed into astounding vistas. You can watch the installation of this work here.
