Rauschenberg and Shia

Destination: Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles

Cost: $12 plus gas

Feeling tense and seeking clarity, I decided the perfect antidote would be a visit to an art museum. I set off for MOCA on Bunker Hill, remembering that downtown parking meters aren’t regulated on Sundays.  But I was unaware of how popular the L.A. core has become, and it took a while to circle and find a spot on 3^rd, in a derelict district not far from Japantown.

I love that modern art is challenging. It seems it’s not about what the artist is trying to evoke, but rather the observer’s reaction that is important. I’m starting to gain an understanding and appreciation of Warhol and Liechtenstein – and want to learn more about Robert Rauschenberg. Jackson Pollock remains a mystery.

I don’t think MOCA is that well curated, but I found the lower level reading room and was able to uncover a book about Rauschenberg and read about his “combine” art created from found objects in New York City during the Fifties. How convenient that some of these works were right upstairs.

As I went to study one, I spotted a young man and his mother. The man was talking about the four most important works in this gallery – and I stepped a little closer to eavesdrop, since he seemed to know what he was talking about. I glanced at his face and it was familiar: Shia LaBeouf.  I probably wouldn’t have known this if I hadn’t overheard a docent namedrop – he had visited earlier in the day. Apparently, he has pretty keen interest in modern art. 

I enjoyed the Cinema Vezzoli exhibit. Francesco Vezzoli is intrigued by Hollywood glamour, divas, and embroidery. He prints black and white photos of cinematic icons like Joan Crawford onto stitching fabric and sews glittery threads into tears emanating from their eye sockets. The exhibit featured some weird short films, fake movie posters and works inspired by the Italian director Luchino Visconti. If only Shia had sported sparkling teardrops, my afternoon would have been complete.