When I first moved to Los Angeles, I wasn’t sure what kind of life I
was going to lead here. It occurred to
me that I might become a full-on motorhead.
I was encouraged, in the first couple of months, by meeting, separately,
two very different artists and car enthusiasts: Robert Williams and Ed
Ruscha. This is Robert Williams:
In fact I mostly talked to them about each other. Both had a taste for old cars, preferably
1930s Fords. Ruscha kept his stock,
Williams hot-rodded his. And I seem to
recall that Ruscha told he liked cars, but Williams really liked cars. Williams
knew the parts numbers for gaskets and so on, Ruscha didn’t.
Anyway, I still kind of like cars. but I’ve never turned into a
motorhead. I have decided (arguably in a
sour grapes kind of way) that looking at exotic old car is way more fun that
owning them. So, since Robert Williams is
currently having a one man exhibition at the Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery,
titled Slang Aesthetics, I decided
walk over there, see the show, and walk home again.
The Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery is in Barnsdall Park, right next
to Frank Lloyd Wright’s endlessly decaying, endlessly being restored, Hollyhock
House, and if you ask me the Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery could use a
snappier name. The Hollyhock Gallery perhaps.
The current name sounds kind of “worthy” and Robert Williams’s art is never,
ever “worthy.”
It’s a big gallery and a big show, and I always enjoy watching people
in art galleries, especially the way they walk, in that measured, respectful, dutiful
way. So I was there looking at Williams’ paintings and drawings and occasional sculpture
and keeping half an eye on the people in the gallery and suddenly I saw the man
himself, with his wife Suzanne, walking across the expanse of the gallery
floor.
We said hello. He said he’d been
trying to get a show in this gallery for 40 years, and we talked very briefly
about cars: the man has just acquired a Model T Ford, which he tells me is very
tricky to drive, which comes as no surprise. After we’d talked for a little while, he excused himself and went off
to talk to a couple of attractive young women he’d spotted. He introduced himself and took them on a walk
around the gallery. You can do that when
it’s your show.
I was tempted to take a few pics of Mr. Williams in situ but I thought
that would have been a bit fan-ish so I didn’t, but I found this one taken at
the beginning of the show – he’s there doing a “walk through.”
Now a man who owns hotrods and a model T is probably not going to be a
great walker, and Robert Williams’s paintings tend to feature cars, women,
curious bits of architecture but I did find this picture (not in the
exhibition) from 1970 titled, Psychic Pedestrians On a Spiral Horizon (Barycenter).
.jpg)
However, the open-minded pedestrian,
psychic or not, always finds something on his travels. To complete the expedition, on the walk home,
I did find this nice bit of street art, which delivers a message some of us
know isn’t strictly true.
As
I took the picture I was hoping that somebody might walk by to give it some
human interest. Nobody did, but I was
aware of the woman on the right of the picture who looks as though she’s
walking, though in fact I think she works in that shop and had stepped outside
for a cigarette and a coffee break.
But
it was only when I got home and downloaded the picture that I noticed that
waist of her, and the fact that she’s wearing a corset. Now I wouldn’t say that nobody walks in LA wearing a corset, but really, very, very few.
