NYE+BROWN’s inaugural exhibition titled The Lords & the New Creatures, presenting the work of artists from Los Angeles and abroad, opens on September 10th, 2011 in conjunction with Pacific Standard Time: Art In L.A. 1945-1980. Artists featured in the show demonstrate what it meant (and still means) to willfully engage the sometimes beautiful and terrible conditions of the late industrial age in L.A. Drawn from at least three generations, selections include work by the historic vanguard of West-Coast finish-fetish, pop a nd conceptual art, placed alongside contemporary art. Often made of industrial materials, concerned with matters of light, perception and the problem of being, much of the selected artwork utilizes the car as a central motif for inspiration, for critique and comment or straight up play. So many artists in the show came from Venice, it serves as equal parts magnet and set piece of the exhibition. Way back when, the move to our beloved slum-by-the-sea may have been simply felt as that artistic reflex to find cheap, cool space and its twin engines, good light and free time. But it would seem no accident that the first great golden age of L.A. art happened in a neighborhood whose visionary conception and spectacular failure began as mixed-use, utopian residential amusement park—only to be banged into a hundred other shapes, including: a short run as a quickly tapped-out oil field; a fiercely local Galapagos island of urban board riding style; a hothouse for would be transgressors, beachcomber Rimbauds and mute poets, burners, dropouts and re-inventors of the way we look at things. Looking back on much of the important earlier work in this show, a question arises as to how the seekers of light and space sought, found and continued to pursue that purer art of perception in the midst of the psychic dread of, for instance, the build-out and overuse of a concrete grid stretching from the dirt of the desert to the edge of America and the gloaming Santa Monica Bay; the burnt orange fire of riots in Watts; the singular blow of Bobby Kennedy’s assassination; ratchets of machine gun volleys between the SLA and the LAPD; and, umm, Manson. Was it part of the very same sweep, scour and drag of the tide that fostered EST, Synanon, and the psychedelic everyday that minted gurus in countless unnamed temporary communes and platforms for self-realization? It may be that they touched on something universal. But the mayhem continues even still. Overt evidence of a crueler world has long since crept back into the art, but the high-velocity, ecstatic feeling of isolation in a crowd that has jacked up so many great artists since modernity immemorial is still being perfected in Los Angeles, here and now. It might be that those formative years of epic general conflict were compounded with the universal sensory overload of earth, wind, water and fire (earthquakes, floods, fires and light). That gray and blinding light, the elements, the turmoil, the art schools and the fantasy of an intense freedom conspired to culminate in L.A.’s epoch of frenzied growth and creativity in all fields: art, architecture, film and music (and all that it touches). Charting a route, traffic lights perfectly timed from some dumb unseen basement, velocity increases, a frictionless city drowned out by the suicidal sadness of Miles Davis, or the lonesome provocation of the Lizard King as Sinatra unbound, riding with X or Dr. Dre on the radio blasting from the car stereo and in synch with the road. It is the urban soundtrack for the cool kids in this isolated moment; (wind) shields us from the riot outside, gliding to the trumpets as the light goes from green to yellow to...
NYE+BROWN’s inaugural exhibition titled The Lords & the New Creatures, presenting the work of artists from Los Angeles and abroad, opens on September 10th, 2011 in conjunction with Pacific Standard Time: Art In L.A. 1945-1980. Artists featured in the show demonstrate what it meant (and still means) to willfully engage the sometimes beautiful and terrible conditions of the late industrial age in L.A. Drawn from at least three generations, selections include work by the historic vanguard of West-Coast finish-fetish, pop a nd conceptual art, placed alongside contemporary art. Often made of industrial materials, concerned with matters of light, perception and the problem of being, much of the selected artwork utilizes the car as a central motif for inspiration, for critique and comment or straight up play. So many artists in the show came from Venice, it serves as equal parts magnet and set piece of the exhibition. Way back when, the move to our beloved slum-by-the-sea may have been simply felt as that artistic reflex to find cheap, cool space and its twin engines, good light and free time. But it would seem no accident that the first great golden age of L.A. art happened in a neighborhood whose visionary conception and spectacular failure began as mixed-use, utopian residential amusement park—only to be banged into a hundred other shapes, including: a short run as a quickly tapped-out oil field; a fiercely local Galapagos island of urban board riding style; a hothouse for would be transgressors, beachcomber Rimbauds and mute poets, burners, dropouts and re-inventors of the way we look at things. Looking back on much of the important earlier work in this show, a question arises as to how the seekers of light and space sought, found and continued to pursue that purer art of perception in the midst of the psychic dread of, for instance, the build-out and overuse of a concrete grid stretching from the dirt of the desert to the edge of America and the gloaming Santa Monica Bay; the burnt orange fire of riots in Watts; the singular blow of Bobby Kennedy’s assassination; ratchets of machine gun volleys between the SLA and the LAPD; and, umm, Manson. Was it part of the very same sweep, scour and drag of the tide that fostered EST, Synanon, and the psychedelic everyday that minted gurus in countless unnamed temporary communes and platforms for self-realization? It may be that they touched on something universal. But the mayhem continues even still. Overt evidence of a crueler world has long since crept back into the art, but the high-velocity, ecstatic feeling of isolation in a crowd that has jacked up so many great artists since modernity immemorial is still being perfected in Los Angeles, here and now. It might be that those formative years of epic general conflict were compounded with the universal sensory overload of earth, wind, water and fire (earthquakes, floods, fires and light). That gray and blinding light, the elements, the turmoil, the art schools and the fantasy of an intense freedom conspired to culminate in L.A.’s epoch of frenzied growth and creativity in all fields: art, architecture, film and music (and all that it touches). Charting a route, traffic lights perfectly timed from some dumb unseen basement, velocity increases, a frictionless city drowned out by the suicidal sadness of Miles Davis, or the lonesome provocation of the Lizard King as Sinatra unbound, riding with X or Dr. Dre on the radio blasting from the car stereo and in synch with the road. It is the urban soundtrack for the cool kids in this isolated moment; (wind) shields us from the riot outside, gliding to the trumpets as the light goes from green to yellow to...
Peter Alexander, Alhambra 1991 Acrylic and oil on canvas. 60 x 66 in.
Peter Alexander, Covina 1988 Acrylic on paper. 28.5 x 32 in
Peter Alexander, Diptych (7/20/11) 2011 Polyester resin. Two panels: 26 x 21 in each.
Peter Alexander, Diptych (8/15/11) 2011 Polyester resin. Two panels: 26 x 21 in.
Peter Alexander, Violet Black Wedge 1969 Polyester resin. 82 x 6.5 x 6.5 in.
Natalie Arnoldi, Cost of Living 2011 Oil on linen. 59 x 74 in.
Robert Bechtle, Almeda Chrysler 1977 Watercolor on paper. 9.75 x 14.75 in.
Larry Bell, Flaw 1968 Coated glass sculpture with metal strips. Box: 15 x 15 x 15 in. Plexi pedestal: 48 x 15 x 15 in.
Billy Al Bengston, Ike 1967-2011 Tempered aluminum, burnished. 48 x 54 in.
Billy Al Bengston, Mike 1967-2011 Tempered aluminum, burnished. 48 x 54 in.
Billy Al Bengston, Mustard 1967-2011 Tempered aluminum, burnished. 48 x 54 in.
Billy Al Bengston, The Farmer’s Daughter 1967-2011 Tempured aluminum, burnished. 52 x 48 in.
Tony Berlant, Low Mileage Blonde 2011 10.5 x 8 x 10.5 in.
Chris Burden, Relic From “Deadman” 1972 Canvas tarpaulin. Dimensions variable.
Chris Burden, Trans-fixed 1974 Black & white photograph.
Chris Burden, Untitled 1974 Lithograph. 20 x 16 in
Chris Burden, L.A.P.D. Uniform 1994 Fabric, leather, wood, metal and plastic. 88 x 72 x 6 in.
Chris Burden, The Rise and Fall of Western Industrialism as Seen Through the Automobile, 1975 Photo panel need to be made. Relic (chalk in vitrine).
Peter Cain, Miata #1 1990 Graphite on paper. 20 x 24 in.
Juan Capistran, We Like Cars That Go Boom 2011 Video installation (monitor, speaker, video, sound)
John Chamberlain, Gondola Henry Miller 1985 Painted & chromium plated steel. 36 x 216 x 36 in
Judy Chicago, Bigamy Hood 1965/2011 Sprayed automotive lacquer on 1965 Corvair Car Hood. 48.5 x 52 x 3 in
Judy Chicago, Flight Hood 1965/2011 Sprayed automotive lacquer on 1965 Corvair Car Hood. 48.5 x 52 x 3 in.
Judy Chicago, Untitled 1968 Vacuum-formed acrylic with airbrushing on metal and plexiglas stand. Spheres: approx. 9 in. in diameter. Stand: 30 x 30 x 34 in.
Mary Corse, Untitled (From the Inner Band Series) 1997 Glass microspheres in acrylic on canvas. 84 x 84 in.
Laddie John Dill, Untitled 1969 Cement, glass and argon. 95 x 5 1/4 x 3 1/4 in.
Yaniv Evan, Custom-Made 650 Triumph Bonneville Motorcycle 1964 Stainless steel, rubber and hand-stitched leather (mock up stage). 39.5 x 80 x 30 in.
Jim Evans, Bash 2011 Archival pigment print. 20 x 24 in.
Jim Evans, Dash 2011 Archival pigment print. 20 x 27 in.
Jim Evans, Smash 2011 Archival pigment print. 27 x 30 in.
Jim Evans, Woody 1 - A Million Suns 2011 Archival pigment print. 26.5 x 39.5 in.
Jim Evans, Woody 2 - Burning Oil 2011 Archival pigment print. 26.5 x 39.5 in.
Robert Frank, Car Accident - U.S. 66, between Winslow and Flagstaff, Arizona 1955-56 Gelatin silver print image: 7.875 x 12.5 in. Paper: 11 x 14 in
Frank Gehry, Model for Art Museum in Seoul, Korea (unbuilt project) 1996 Cardboard, paper, and aluminum foil in plexiglass box. 11 x 12 x 10 in.
Dennis Hopper, Double Standard 1961 Gelatin silver print. 16 x 24 in.
Jacqueline Humphries, Untitled 2011 Oil on linen. 52 x 60 in.
Jacqueline Humphries, Vortex 2011 Oil on linen. 26 x 30 in.
Craig Kauffman, Untitled 1965 Vacuum formed acrylic. 47.125 x 45 in.
Kristin Jai Klosterman, Untitled 2011 Ink, gesso, acrylic and phosphorescent pigment on silkscreen. 30 x 40 in.
David Lachapelle, Motion Emanates Los Angeles, 2008 Cardboard standee. 120 x 96 x 20 in.
Patrick Lakey, Untitled Film Still 2011 Digital C-Print. Approx. 20 X 30 in
Malcolm Morley, Texas Swing 2009 Oil on linen. 78 x 117.5 in.
Ed Moses, Untitled 1967 Painted metal and neon.
Ed Moses, Untitled 1974 Oil on linen. 54 x 42 in.
Catherine Opie, Untitled #14 (1999) 1999 Chromogenic print. 30 x 40 in.
Claudia Parducci, stopdontstopdonts... (Morse code) 2011 Gouache on paper. 44 x 64 in.
Raymond Pettibon, No Title (Figueroa is the) 2006 Pen and ink on paper 14 x 22 1/2 in.
Gianni Piacentino, Black Frame Vehicle with Signed Oval Plates 1971 Nitro-acrylic enamel on iron tube, nickel-plated brass, wood stand. 13.78 x 124.8 x 7.09 in.
Gianni Piacentino, Intense Blue-Gray Portal III, 1 1966-1967 Polyester-coated and painted wood. 96.85 x 47.24 x 3.54 in.
Robert Rauschenberg, N.Y.C. Street, 1951 1951 Black & white digital ink jet print 17.75 x 17.875 in.
Rob Reynolds, 32 American Cars 2011 Digital c-prints in artist’s frames. Each photograph: 8 x 12 in.
Bruce Richards, Icarus 2011 Oil on linen. 23 1/2 x 22 in.
Bruce Richards, Monogram (IV) 2011 Oil on linen. 11 x 14 in.
Bruce Richards, Where the Rubber Meets the Road (Map) 2011 Oil on linen.
Bruce Richards, Five to One (V2I) 2011 Oil on linen. 28 x 22 in.
Bruce Richards, No U 2011 Oil on linen. 19.5 x 14.375 in.
Big Daddy Roth, Monster Catalog 1963 8.5 x 11 in.
Ed Ruscha, Melrose & Vine 1999 Two color lithograph. 22 x 30 in.
Ed Ruscha, Miracle 1975 16mm color film. 28 minutes.
Dirk Skreber, Untitled 2008 Mirrored stainless steel, plastic car: 4.5 x 7.5 x 5.25 in. Pedestal: 47 x 11.4375 x 11.4375 in.
Joe Sola, Guys in Car 2011 Prismacolor and graphite on paper. Paper: 17 x 11 in. Frame: 20.75 x 17.75 in.
Brian Wills, Untitled (Birch Wood) 2010 Rayon thread and linear polyurethane on wood. 24 x 96 in.
Brian Wills, Untitled (Navy Blue) 2010 Rayon thread, enamel, and linear polyurethane on wood. 24 x 48 in.
Garry Winogrand, Utah 1964 Gelatin silver print. Image: 9 x 13.375 in. Paper: 11 x 14 in.
Aaron Young, Floor 2011 Plywood and paint. Overall: 282 x 432 x .75 in. 18 panels at 48 x 96 x .75 in. each; 11 panels at 18 x 96 x .75 in. each; and 4 panels at 24 x 24 x .75 in. each.
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