I've Lost My Grandfather Today

My beloved grandfather who, along with my grandmother, raised me, as departed this planet this morning. I miss him horribly.
He was radiating kindness to the point that pets were congregating around him wherever he would go visit. My Grandpa was the nicest person ever, someone who not only wasn't bigoted or racist, but who couldn't comprehend why and how other people could be so mean and nasty. I've never seen my Grandpa do anything stupid, ever, nor be angry or aggressive toward anybody or anything. He loved children and spent hours building tree houses and doll houses for us, insisting the Playmobil mansion he built for us out of an old cheese-ripening box would have electricity, for the little creatures to be able to switch on the light if they wanted. He was very poor but set aside a small portion of his paycheck every month to buy us a little bit of candy he would meticulously prepare in tiny, individual packets with our name on it. He was the most affectionate man, and was always beaming each time we would come visit, even if in later years he more often than not failed to recognize who exactly we were. It's true the Frenchybutchic family is very, very large, and he had many grandchildren and great-grandchildren, so it's not surprising he had trouble with our names, but he knew we were people he loved. He was very sweet to the nursing staff at the hospital, complimenting the women on their nice figures. The very last words he told me, back in June, were "we are so happy when we're all together".

Because he had lost his father early, he had to leave school at the age of 13 to train and be a mechanic, instead of setting up to be the potter he always wanted to be.
He worked in construction for 47 years, climbing in and out of vertiginous cranes in foul weather, driving and repairing bulldozers and other construction engines. If he had been able to attend high school and college he probably would have become an engineer. Instead he worked as much overtime as he could in the worst conditions ever to make sure he could feed his family, and never complained, ever. About anything.
He build and refurbished a lot of the furniture, build a fireplace in the tiny house he was finally able to acquire in his late forties, he laid down bathroom tiles, painted walls and installed wallpaper. He could fix appliances, big or small, and the plumbing. I've always felt like a complete dork because of my lack of manual skills, compared to everything he knew how to do. He taught me arc welding when I was 14, something I mightily enjoyed if only because we would cut the power in the entire neighborhood each time we set to do this (yes, Madame Gain, Madame Maeck, it was us. Sorry!), but aside from that I'm unable to drive a nail on a wall.
My grandpa was also the only person in my family who always encouraged me to do what I'm doing (that is, to be a parasitic artsy-fartsy instead of doing anything useful to society). He had suffered too much from not being able to be the creative person he was. After retirement he finally enjoyed to do the things he liked, and started to make some wood carvings.
We went to visit a museum together twice: once when I was a child to see a show of Japanese woodblock print at the local museum. He felt the occasion was solemn enough for him to wear a suit and a tie, and a hat. I also took him to the Brancusi retrospective at the Pompidou (in 1995 or 1996?), at which we had great fun. It was beautiful to see his sculptor and builder take on the work, instead of the boring respectful attitude most museum visitors felts obliged to adopt.
My Grandpa was also a devoted gardener who delighted in giving us children all the fraises des bois from the garden, and who religiously maintained the sorrel patch that fed us on so many evenings. If I feel like it I'll give you a recipe in his memory.
He loved flowers, jigsaw puzzles, crosswords, playing Scrabble, and despite leaving school so early had an impeccable sense of grammar and spelling. He read the local newspaper everyday from front to back. He also had a slight eccentric streak which tended to manifest itself in a very lousy but always sweet sense of humor, feigning to appear surprised, when stuck in traffic, at everybody else going to the same spot as he was. On other occasions when he would miss a turn and get lost, he never panicked and always pretended to be happy to serendipitously get an opportunity to "admire the landscape".
At some point after he got to retire, he decided to dig a basement-cum-wine-cellar-um-mushroom-bed under the garage floor, which he did. It was great fun to hear him pretend he would dig as far as the William the Conqueror castle's moat a few miles away. He laid bottles of our homemade hard cider in it, a bit of wine, and I'm not sure if he hasn't grown fungi in it, after all. He was the king of the hilariously bad pun, and the most affectionate man. In his entire life, my grandfather hasn't hurt a fly, and I don't think there are that many people about whom the same can be said. I love him. and I feel like dirt I cannot go to his funeral.
So FBC! readers, sorry if I'm not around much, and for my friends: please do not call me or show up at my door unannounced. Thank you.

Your Social Life - Post Migraine Edition

My dear, beloved readership, you have noticed how often I mention my migraines on FBC!
It's because for the past 7 weeks, I've been having migraines one day out of two. You add some post car-accident back pain to the mix, and you can understand why my posts have this grouchy, cranky tone (unless you've never been in constant pain, in which case I don't hold it against you, but I admonish you to be nicer to people around you who suffer physical ailments). Yesterday was one of those days, so after I was done with reviewing Oranges and Sardines, I couldn't look at the laptop screen anymore, nor read or watch anything, hence the lateness of today's YSL.

Anyway, there are basically two art-related things you gonna do this weekend, and the first one is starting tonight: at the Velaslavasay Panorama, you're going to a vaudeville night where artist extraordinaire Scoli Acosta is performing, along with John Fleck, Todd Gray, Harry Dodge and Stanya Kahn, and Michael Sakamoto. The program is an offshot of the CCF, and everything is written on the jpeg above. If you like the Museum of Jurassic Technology, you're going to adore the Velaslavasay Panorama, which, in addition to being a mouthful (try saying it very fast: velaslavasay, velaslavasay, velaslavasay! FBC! isn't liable for the mispronunciation, misspelling or other trouble incurred while trying to figure out what a velaslavasay is) is a very cool place to visit, in a beautiful old theater. It's in West Adams, not too far from where I live actually, in a neighborhood that makes your realize how beautiful Los Angeles is.

Even closer to my place, basically 12 minutes form FBC! central, Machine Project is going to take over LACMA tomorrow with "A Field Guide To LACMA", 10 hours of performances and animation non-stop in the venerable institution that's starting to be shaken, not stirred, under the guidance of Michael Govan. There's something called Lasagna Cat, which Pomme is protesting mightily since, as everyone knows, it's sardines cats are into, not lasagna, Garfield notwithstanding (I've put that sentence here uniquely because I like that word, "notwithstanding". Now you know). While you're at LACMA, go have a look at the exhibitions,
You can also read an interview of tomorrow's event organizers here (and plenty of other interesting entries).

If you don't fancy a LACMA takover, you can attend Maeghan Reid's Solo Debut at Chung King Project, or just dash there after a few hours of performances at LACMA. There's also a Sarah Thornton book signing at MOCA at the Pacific Design Center at 3 PM AND a conversation between MoCA curator Bennett Simpson and FOCA Fellowship recipients Martin Kersels, Dorit Cypis and Julio Cesar Morales at exactly the same time but at Grand Avenue (you guys ever heard of a scheduling conflict? Man, I hate to have to disclose it to you. How inconvenient)

Anyway, have fun at all events, and be kind to your neighbor.

Oranges And Sardines At The Hammer

Last Saturday FBC! went out with fellow reclusive pal Kurt (hi Kurt!) to the opening of Oranges and Sardines, the last (?) show curated at the Hammer by Gary Garrels, who has left us to go up North in San Francisco. Our loss is their gain.
Luckily Kurt was as animated as I was by the desire to see the show, and really not into schmoozing, so we arrived unfashionably early and left in the same fashion (sorry for anybody who wanted to socialize with us, we were probbaly gone by the time you arrived)
Thus proceeding we got to enjoy looking at the artworks, rather than taking in the scene. And pray tell me, when was the last time you did see a show with beautiful artworks, rather than mindlessly socialize with fellow art people?
The principle of the show was very simple, and like all simple idea was pure genius: ask 6 living artists, all abstract painters, some of them veterans who has seen it all, the others hip and trendy youngish ones, to pick up one or two of their own work, to confront with a selection of other artists who influenced or informed their own work. It’s a little bit like the exhibition that curates itself, except of course Garrels did make a selection of the initial roster, and had to do all the legwork: finding the pieces, getting the loans, installing the work and make everybody happy.

You could argue with his initial selection (as a curator myself, I probably would had chosen an entirely different group of people, but I’m not going to split hairs, OK?) and ask questions about the wisdom of putting together some classic modernist masters alongside some yet-unproven contemporary painters.
Would Mark Grotjahn’s hold a wall next to Mondrian? Next to Ad Reinhardt? FBC! won’t give an answer to that . Instead, FBC! reveled at looking at a bunch of great work you don’t get to see together that often.
The overall feeling after leaving the exhibition was of having witnessed a very blue chip moment, and a testimony to Garrels’ clout as a curator. He had barely stayed 2 years at the Hammer and he’s been able to obtain fabulous loans that would cost another curator 5 or 6 years to negotiate, from the beautiful little Mondrian to FBC!’s absolute favorite in the planet, the Felix Gonzalez-Torres Untitled, (Go-Go Dancing Platform), chosen by Wade Guyton.

After almost 15 years in the artworld, FBC! must confess that sometimes, she doesn’t give a hoot about exhibition concepts, highfalutin takes on deconstructed subjects and political stances about the harsh world we’re living in. Instead I enjoy using my eyes to watch, look at, gaze, gorge on artworks so beautiful and so moving it makes the viewer fall on one’s knees and cry. And artworks like these are aplenty in Oranges and Sardines. Incidentally the title, (taken not from, as you would have it, say a Picasso from the synthetic Cubist period, but from a Frank O‘Hara poem) speaks volume about Garrels’ intent as a curator. Why I’m Not A Painter (the title of the O’Hara poem) could be taken literally as a statement of a curator’s profession: we’re here because we do not create, to help artists present their vision to the world, because we revel in the fragile moment of beauty we encounter through their work.

Anyway, it seems to me Garrels has wanted to offer everybody a good chunk of warm aesthetic pleasure, as well as making people think about the path artworks take to be created. There’s the art history we’re taught in books and at school, and there’s art history in the making, when what influenced an artist is not what the expected wisdom of Academia would like us to accept lock, stock and barrel (take that, Academia!).
Some artists in the show have made impeccable choices, the ones you would expect looking at their work, knowing where they’re coming from and the era when they started working. Christopher Wool’s for example are so conventional in that regard that the result of his selection is quite boring, except that the Dieter Roth pieces he selected strangely look like early Sigmar Polke. There’s a late Picasso that looks totally obvious compared to the Wool artwork, down to the gray palette, and a virtuoso Albert Oehlen that looks like all the Albert Oehlen on the planet. Oehlen is a great painter, and had he been fortunate to live in an imaginary time where no Martin Kippenberger had ever existed, he may have stood a better chance to be genius inventor, instead of being co-opted by the Blue Chipdom of auction houses. I find his work gorgeous, but not epoch-altering, if you catch my drift.
The rest of Wool’s selection is on the same level, good solid work but nothing that makes you weak at the knees.
Charline von Heyl’s room is the other one that is totally expected, and a bit of a failure in the sense that even though the work she does and the ones she selected differ from the rest of the exhibition by the organic “formless” bent they display, they look very weak compared to the rest of the show. I adore Paul Thek as much as the next person, but the one there is rather forgettable, ditto the Franz West and the Immendorff. But I’m glad she selected Carla Accardi.
As much as I didn’t care much for those two rooms, I’m nonetheless happy they existed if only because it shows, at least in my mind it does, that Garrels was respectful of the artists choices and didn’t try to impose his own vision on them. And on a personal level, I’m all for a bit of weak choices and failed artworks in exhibitions, if only to show to the public at large that artists all have their bad days, sometimes make bad artworks (even Leonardo had his fair share of ruined works, you know), and are no superheroes. I also like the fact that sometimes out of bad, failed artworks, another artist is going to find the one thing that will push him or her to create something entirely different that will turn gorgeous. It’s also the way art history is being made, by artists rehabilitating forgotten peers in their own work and making the dogmatic theoreticians re-think their convictions.


This could have been the perfect conclusion for the review, but being a contrarian Frenchy I cannot end this without mentioning what made me enjoy the show so much. The very first room of perfectly chosen works, the one selected by Grotjahn, was a perfect lesson in expected choices, down to the Cadere probably chosen as the one odd sculpture, but which, with the conceptual lineage and mathematical permutation of colors it display, makes perfect sense with the rigorous construction of Grotjahn’s painting, and obviously with the Mondrian as well. There’s everything from Sherrie Levine to John McLaughlin, the weakest works being the Paul Klee and the Clyfford Still, and as far as weak works go those were pretty good. I would kill, metaphorically speaking, for the Ad Reihnardt.
The exhibition would have been a success already with only those works, but this happy viewer was lead to the Wade Guyton-curated pieces right after, the one with the poignant and aforementioned Gonzalez-Torres. I do not know whether the go-go dancer is scheduled to show up, I sincerely do hope so.
I loved Guyton’s choices because they were not the most obvious, at least for me. I would have expected, say, Cady Noland (she’s not there), but not the giant Robert Morris vagina felt sculpture (House of the Vetti II, 1983), nor France’s very own Martin Barré (with Cadere, it’s 2 French artists in the same exhibition) whom I hope curators in this country are going to look at more closely.

With Amy Sillman you then would get to see a much, much better Guston than the one selected by Christopher Wool, a very touching Eva Hesse and a really gorgeous Chamberlain. There were some other interesting picks, such as Juan Mele, a minor artist but whose work makes sense when viewed as the same time as Sillman, and a Howard Hogkins so atrocious it actually becomes good (you have to see it in person to understand what I mean) and that made me wonder what Richard Jackson would think about it.

The very last selection was the one made by my favorite abstract painter, Mary Heilmann, the most eclectic choices of the exhibition. It included Joseph Beuys Felt Suit as well as an early Bruce Nauman (with whom Heilmann shared the same apparent, deceptive simplicity), a David Hockney (makes sense for his use of color) and a very good Francis Bacon, an artist you’d better see in single appearances rather than endure a whole retrospective of. I’m still pondering the Heilmann choices, which are emblematic of the exhibition at large.
Playful, engaging, sometimes puzzling, at other times totally obvious, opening paths of reflections about how art history (or art tout court) is made, exciting and curiosity-rousing, all very good reasons for you to go see the exhibition at the Hammer. You have until February 8, 2009 to do so.

Your Social Life Is Post Political: Bis Repetita Placent

I'm a bit disenfranchised from the current art discourse right now, as I'm busy writing, and freaked out about the job situation, and basking in the Obama election glow as well as bummed by Prop 8.
Consequently I tend to be a little bit absent-minded, and I forget things when I put up the regular YSL announcements. Such as the Nancy Popp-curated political video show at Sea and Space on Sunday, in conjunction with the Audacity of Desperation show. All the info is below. Nancy is a very good friend of mine, and I know she's bummed I cannot make it, so please give her a big hug for me, OK?

(And while I'm at it, I'd like to signal a rally in opposition of Prop. 8 tomorrow Saturday evening at the Sunset Junction in Silverlake (intersection of Sunset and Santa Monica, from 6 PM to 9 PM).)

Sunday November 9, 6-8pm

Violations and Obfuscations

A screening of video works curated by Nancy Popp that address the numerous political disasters, violations and obfuscations of the past eight years. Videos by Paul Chan, Hillary Mushkin, Nabawia El-Soudani, John Davis, Nancy Popp, Serena Wellen, Jessica Lawless, Von Edwards, Martha Rosler and Mark Boswell.

Sunday November 16, 2-5pm

"So now what?" or "HOLY F*%K! NOW WHAT?"

Whether it is Obama/Biden or McCain/Palin, immediately after the elections we're still in debt, looking for work, without universal health care, and occupying Iraq. Adam Overton and Nancy Popp facilitate conversation and activities that will lead to concrete actions to make change in our own communities.

Your Social Life - The Hangover Edition

If you live in California, you're probably doubly hangover'ed: you drank to celebrate Obama's victory, and you drank to drown your sorrows at the infamous Proposition 8 being passed. FBC! doesn't drink because of too many migraines (I've just read today it lowered my chances of getting breast cancer by 30%, cool, but for the time being it can be really annoying), but I'm bummed about Prop. 8. Which ought to be repelled ASAP, along with the Defense of Marriage Act (at Federal level).

[For all the straight people out there who don't see why gay and lesbian people should have the right to marry, here's the 1-minute FBC! lowdown: because no one should be denied the right to visit their loved ones at the hospital, no one should be deprived of living with their loved one if (s)he happens to have a different nationality (how many gay couples do I know who cannot live in the same country as their partner, a right straight people get when they marry), and because they should have the same rights as straight people where children are concerned, and their children should have exactly the same rights as children of straight people. Discrimination isn't pretty, based on whatever bogus religious or moral reasons people choose to explain away their crass, bigoted attitude. So California people, American people, my friends and neighbors, do whatever you can to reinstate the right to marry for gay and lesbian people. There are a few lawsuits being launched, and if they fail there's the possibility to put a new proposition on the ballot in 2010. Thanks for reading this]

If you don't know what to do to help repel Prop. 8, you can go to a few openings this weekend where, no doubt, you will run into some non-straight friends as well as straight ones in the know, and get organized. Which openings could you go to, my gay and lesbian-friendly brethren?
There's the one where you will see me for an exceptional FBC! outing, Oranges and Sardines at the Hammer, curated by SF-bound Gary Garrels. Basically he paired a few contemporary artists (painters) with other ones whose work influenced or informed theirs, and it looks really, really interesting, not only because there's FBC! fave Mary Heilmann, but because the roster of influencers is mouth-watering, from Yayoi Kusama, Andre Cadere, Ad Reinhardt and Eva Hesse to Bruce Nauman, Felix Gonzalez-Torres and Dieter Roth. And many mores! I have high hopes for this show, and I'd like to signal a 3PM talk on Sunday between Gary Garrels and some of the artists in the show. The show opens on Saturday, as well as an exhibition about the modern woodcut organized by the Grunwald Center in the same museum, curated by Allegra Pesenti who I do not know, but she curates really good prints and drawings shows.

Now the other event I would have gone to on Saturday, if it had been close by, is the Dave Muller Dance Party organized by Andrew Berardini at the Armory in Pasadena. It looks really, really cool but I don't have yet the magic faculty of ubiquity, unfortunately. Dave Muller is a fabulously good DJ, for those of you old enough to remember his Three Day Weekend events, and not only is the party free and open to the public, but there is free vodka as well! (drink responsibly and don't drive if you're tipsy). The party starts at 8 PM and will last until midnight, so it's conceivable to go from the Hammer to there, if you live on the East Side (unlike me). The Armory is located on 145 North Raymond, in Pasadena.

Aside from openings, if you happen to be in San Diego tomorrow night, FBC! gal pal Susan Silton is doing a performance at the MCASD (downtown, the Jacobs building) at 7 PM, tickets are $5-$7.

The pictures were totally "borrowed" from the Hammer and the Armory websites, please don't sue me!

CONGRATULATIONS AMERICA!!!!!!!!!

And congratulations to Barack Obama and Joe Biden!
FBC! broke a long reclusion to go watch the results at the Mandrake in Culver City, and it was fun and exciting. My pics suck because I didn't want to use my flash and blind people, but suffice to say there was dancing, free pizza, great drinks and cool people.

Meanwhile, at this hour (10.30 PM in LA) it looks like that horrible, homophobic proposition 8 might pass. It's horrible. FBC! sends her love to all her gay and lesbian friends and wish them the best. I'm sorry Calif. voters let you down, and I really hope in the future some counter-proposition will come to make you as married as the rest of us, I mean the straight people who are married (I'm not, married, that is). I'm off to bed, I cannot find my words anymore.

And let's all rejoice America has elected Obama, I'm proud of you America.






(in passing, for people who are looking for good, affordable food in CC: I had a very good dinner at Trattoria Brunelli, right around the corner on Washington, West of La Cienega. It's mom & pop good Italian food)

Election Night Special

Since you don't seem to be interested in the Mariachis for Obama poll, I thought I could introduce you to a moment of levity smack right in the middle of Election day.
Make history, elect Obama and No on proposition 8!