Posts tagged sculpture
Lloyd Hamrol Remembers CalArts by Audrey Chan
In 1973, artist Lloyd Hamrol and a group of students constructed Woven Cone, a teepee shaped rope sculpture, on a rise overlooking the rear parking area of the CalArts campus in Valencia, CA. The piece stood there as an iconic presence until this past summer, when it was dismantled following the discovery of a severe termite infestation. Hamrol came to the campus to remember his experiences...
Richard Hawkins and the Haunted Dolls’ House by Derek McCormack
"The Haunted Dolls’ House" was written by M. R. James. James, it’s said, was the father of the English ghost story; if his wasn’t the first ghost story about a haunted dollhouse, it was the first to be famous. Its fame is enduring: though it was written in the 1920s, it's still in print. It's also in the public domain. Richard Hawkins is an American artist who recently had a retrospective at the Art Institute of Chicago; the retrospective opened at the Hammer Museum in Los Angeles this month.
Lost Opportunities: The Early Work of Don Dudley by Saul Ostrow
Last spring I went to a dinner in New York at the loft of the artist Don Dudley. In the seventies he made some great Minimalist works that literalized flatness as structure as well as surface, and he exhibited a modular piece at the Whitney Museum of American Art in 1972. By the eighties he was exploring the space between painting, sculpture, and design by producing object-like works that embodied a sense of imminent functionality. I’m not sure how, but the conversation that night drifted around to the subject of Dudley’s having come east in 1968 from LA. This was perhaps a strange time for a young artist to leave, just at the moment when Southern California was emerging with an art-world identity of its own.
Make Art Not War: Watts and the Junk Art Conversation by Cameron Shaw
Only months after publishing The Crying of Lot 49, Thomas Pynchon wrote an account of life in Watts for the New York Times Magazine. On May 7, 1966, a Los Angeles police officer had shot and killed Leonard Deadwyler, a black man whose name could easily have been plucked from Pynchon’s novel. Ruled an “accident,” Deadwyler’s death was salt in the wound of a neighborhood still smarting from its last fight with the cops. The author spoke, as he expressed in The Crying of Lot 49, of a fundamental inability to communicate—this time between black and white cultures. If, as Pynchon—an outsider himself, albeit a highly critical one—noted, “white values [were] displayed without let-up on black people’s TV screens,” what were the available tools for blacks to communicate the realities of their existence? For local black activists and educators, including Noah Purifoy and Judson Powell, the answer to Pynchon’s conundrum was art.