Clogtown: When Home Won't Let You Stay: Art and Migration at MIA

I really needed a break from the world yesterday, and that feeling often leads me to an art museum. This might be a particularly great outing to think about these days, and everyone tends to give each other space and quiet in museums.

 I've been itching to get back to the Minneapolis Institute of Art to see the When Home Won't Let You Stay: Art and Migration exhibit since the day I saw the Ai Weiwei work Safe Passage and its thousands of life jackets adorning the pillars out in front of the museum, so that's where I headed.

This extremely emotional exhibit might not have been the exact escape I was looking for, as I was choked up when viewing much of it, but the recent string of extra excellent shows at MIA continues. It's wonderful and thought provoking, and really something to see - and reflect on.

Minnesota has the highest number of refugees per capita in the nation, a fact I didn't know until I was at this exhibit. America has always been a melting pot - that's the beauty of it! - and unless you're Native American, we're ALL from immigrant families, so I've never really understood the problem some people (usually old white men besides Bernie Sanders) have with it.

Migration has shaped our world, and we really are now one giant global village at this point. How refreshing it would be if our individual governments could act like it, right? The piece that opens the show is called Woven Chronicle, 2011-2019, by Reena Saini Kallat, and the balls of yarn show the paths of world migration, accompanied by a kind of heavy soundscape that is meant to echo the hum of global movement. Impressive.

Exodus II, 2002, by Mona Hatoum, a Palestinian refugee to the UK, consists of two suitcases linked together by human hair. It makes one wonder what someone would stuff into their luggage if you could only take along a little bit of your life. The hair humanizes the thought, and to me, made it sadder. 

Similarly, Temporary Storage: The Belongings of Juan Manuel Montes, 2017 by Camilo Ontiveros shows us the personal belongings of Montes, believed to be the first DACA recipient to be removed from the United States by Trump. Ontiveros got permission from Montes' mother to create a sculpture of his belongings tied up with rope. It's heartbreaking, as is so much of this show - but it needs to be a part of our global conversation to improve life for everyone.

Everything #4, 2004 by Adrian Piper is equally heavy. An oval mirror printed with "Everything Will Be Taken Away" is the artist forcing people to literally face this reality ... and deal with it. Piper was a New Yorker working in Berlin, when she was placed on a suspicious traveler list, and has refused to return to the States, resenting any such authority of her movement - and I don't blame her. This piece insists that we look within ... like who do we really want to be as a people? We can do so so so much better.

A very heavy and similar piece to the life jackets outside MIA is Le Mer Morte (The Dead Sea), 2015 by Kader Attia. The clothing strewn across the floor represents the 1 million people who fled across the Mediterranean Sea in 2015, with 3,753 missing and believed to be dead. The blue clothing items help you visualize the people who have washed ashore ... the HUMAN BEINGS that died looking for a better life. Incredibly sad, this one is tough to take in. (As are the many video installations of people speaking of their harrowing experiences throughout this show).

Xaviera Simmons says of her piece Sundown (Number Twelve), 2018, "Black people, especially those who descend from American chattel slavery, have been in a constant state of migration since the country's formation." Her piece shows a character in colonial dress with an African mask, holding a photograph of people during the "Great Migration" (1890-1930), and was one of my favorite works in the exhibit. "Sundown" refers to towns that were not safe for black people after dark. The work kind of sums up that entire experience and history in one beautiful image.

Simmons also presents the text painting, Found The Sea Like The River, 2018 which features excerpts from Christopher Columbus' diaries when he was exploring the New World. It focuses heavily on the nature, and conveniently leaves out the violence and terror these explorers rained down on the indigenous people that already lived here. I'm ALL for Indigenous Peoples Day over Columbus Day, so I dug this one. (And I'm firm on calling it  Lake Bde Maka Ska too).

Do Ho Suh presents Hub-1, Entrance and Hub-2, Breakfast Corner, 26-7, Sungbook-dong, Sungboo-Ku, Seoul, Korea, 2018 as interactive pieces that depict the process of migration, "where each step of the process is like crossing another threshold." I didn't really get it until I read the blurb, that says it evoked memories of Suh's childhood home, and that the translucence is like the hazy memories from other times. Cool.

I loved the works by Aliza Nisenbaum, who MIA invited to have a residency to work with groups in the Minneapolis Whittier neighborhood. Her bright pieces, full of color and life, depict everyday life in the immigrant communities surrounding the museum. Nimo, Sumiya, and Bisharo Harvesting Flowers and Vegetables at Hope Community Garden, 2017 shows the Somalian women who care for this garden. Beautiful.

Nisenbaum's La Talaverita, Sunday Morning NY Times, 2016 portrays a lazy Sunday morning in a Mexican community in Queens, NY. There is such beauty in the everyday, if only we can be more aware of it.

Angel Exterminador/Exterminating Angel, 2015 by Guillermo Galindo is an actual section of the Mexican-United States barrier. As awful as that thing is, Galindo turns the sculpture into an instrument that can be played by the artist or other performers. His intent was to make more noise than the anti-immigrant factions out there ... and rightly so.

An entire giant wall is taken up by Artifacts found from California to Texas between 2013 and 2015/Artefactos encontrados entre California y Texas de 2013 a 2015, 2013-2015 by Richard Misrach was another real heavy one.

Misrach photographed the remnants left behind by travelers throught the desert trying to get to the border ... clothes, water bottles, bikes, toys ... that once again serve to humanize the immigrant experience - and maybe make it a bit easier to put yourself in their shoes.

My very favorite part of the entire exhibit was The American Library, 2018 by Yinka Shonibare, 2018. A whole room is filled with cloth covered books, with the names of American immigrants  or members of The Great Migration within the U.S. who have made their marks on American life stenciled there on the spines in gold foil.

There is a website that invites you to sit down and read the stories of the names on these books - or to write your own. The interactive quality makes it feel like a real library, and it was fascinating to sit and listen to a few of the stories that make up America. It was jolting, however, to find that it does not include Native Americans, ignoring the cultural contributions of our original inhabitants - sort of like our government does.

I zoomed in to show the detail on the gorgeous books, and was delighted to find that the spot I zoomed in on held the names of Yoko Ono, Joe Hill, and Bob Marley - all personal favorites of mine without even looking. I could have spent the entire afternoon just looking at the spines, and thinking about all of the wonderful people that have created our country by leaving theirs. This room allowed me to leave the exhibit with hope, rather than despair. What a beautiful way to acknowledge all of the glorious tapestry of lives and nations that have combined into this one ... may we honor it also in our own everyday lives.

The exhibit concludes with CarryOn Homes - Living Room, 2020. It's a cozy space strewn with pillows (handmade from clothing linked to the artists) that allows attendees to sit and relax, and find some calm from the difficult realities they just viewed. Interviews are played on the screen from members of the CarryOn Homes art collective, telling their stories of being artists and immigrants from all over. There are resource books there too, so that immigrants and refugee communities can come together with shared connections. It's all very thoughtful, and again, offers some hope.

There was again a wall of thoughts and comments from people who have come through the exhibit, asking "What does HOME mean to you?" Even a quick glance lets you know that this show is making people think. I saw one that asked in the current climate, with everyone freaking out over the pandemic and hoarding things and being forced to quarantine, and not travel, and not attend events ... that maybe now Americans can stop and think about how life is for refugees. Now we're all being forced to do (and not do) things we don't want to do ... how does it feel? Maybe all of this will cause a big swell of empathy when everyone FINALLY realizes that we are all one, and all in this together. I hope so anyway.

As you're coming or going to the exhibit, there is a gigantic photo (5,776 of them!) wall by Ai Weiwei, depicting the thousands of refugees crossing the Mediterranean ... the same ones that wore the life jackets hanging on the columns outside.

The faces again show the actual humanity involved in these nightly news stories, and let you know that world policies affect real people, people just like you and I.

People that COULD be you and I real soon here if some massive progress isn't made in the fights against climate crisis, looming wars, famine and disease. Think about it ... just like this excellent social studies class of an art show asks you to.

Thank you to MIA for giving us yet another beautiful, important show that exemplifies that spirit of art being the hammer that shapes the world. Well done!

When Home Won't Let You Stay: Art and Migration is at MIA now through May 24, 2020.

The Nightly Venice Light Show

The best show in town can be seen almost every evening along the edge of the continent here in Venice, California. The sunsets lately have been OUTRAGEOUSLY beautiful, and last night's fantastic display was the best one of 2019 - so far.

It was a hazy shade of winter all day long, and I went to The Whaler for happy hour with my friend Sailene, who recently decided to opt out of the expense of Venice and make the move to Joshua Tree, so she wanted to see some ocean. The Whaler has way better food now, and we thoroughly enjoyed our front row seat to the nice sunset shaping up. We were not prepared for how EXTRA spectacular it was to become, so we hastily finished up and sped out to the Venice Pier to get a better look - along with the rest of the nature lovers all facing west.

It got better and better with every passing moment, and was one of the rare sunsets where it's equally beautiful in all directions, lighting up the mountains behind us while the electric orange sun was sinking in front of us.

The air felt special, and everyone had that gorgeous sunset glow on their faces as we all shared in the awe. It was impossible to tear your eyes away from it all, and I was already about 15 minutes late for a meeting. That's when you start justifying things like, "Am I going to remember being on time for a meeting or the one of the top sunsets ever?" The sunset always wins with me. Sorry (not sorry).

We walked backward slowly, unable to turn our backs on the majesty. This is the best free show in town, with a pretty awesome wave soundtrack to go along with it. The social media feeds all filled up with the glory of the setting sun, for good reason - even though even the best of the photographs can never measure up to the real thing. There's a lot that people disagree about in Venice these days, but we can all get behind a glorious sunset. I'm still in awe of it just thinking about it, and feel so lucky and happy that I was in a place where I could enjoy it to the fullest - and have the memory for always.

Thank you, Nature! Five stars.

Beck At The Bowl - Where It's At!

Beck at The Bowl! You know I wasn't going to miss this one ... though I did miss opening act St. Vincent doing a D.J. set as "St. Vicious" ... but we weren't in a big rush to see someone spin records for their Hollywood Bowl gig + L.A. traffic = Sorry, St. Vicious.

 

We did hear a little Talking Heads being spun as we walked up the hill, but everyone around us kind of just shrugged when asked how it was, so I imagine it was just like listening to tunes on the radio as we drove up Highland. Good enough for us.

We had just enough to time to scarf down our picnic before the lights went dark and Beck took the stage in full Rock Star mode, all in black with a toreador-style hat, and plenty of dramatics. He and his backing band tore into "Devil's Haircut", and Beck was super animated, bouncing all over the place, and shouting "Odelay! Buenos Noches! How you doing, Los Angeles?!" We were doing awesome, and it just kept getting better. "New Pollution" was excellent, and Beck explained that this was a homecoming show, and that they'd been on tour forever (15 months), and were excited to play tracks from his newest album Colors for their hometown friends, family, and neighbors. "Hi Neighbors! There is no better place to be on a Friday night in Los Angeles!" We all roared in agreement, and were given "Mixed Bizness" as a reward. You could tell that they'd been on the road playing this set for a while, as the banter veered pretty close to rehearsed cheese at times, like when artists work the song title into the chat, it always feels lounge singer-y to me - but I don't think Beck minds being lounge singer-like sometimes ... as in the lead up to "Up All Night". "If I see boys and girls dancing, can we stay up all night?" Like that.

Then it got a lot more L.A.-centric ... "This song isn't appreciated in other parts of the world, but I think it will be here ... I'm from the East side, Pico-Union. My first studio was in Boyle Heights, and every day I'd walk down the street and they'd say 'Hey, Güero! Who do you think you are, Axl Rose?!" That, of course, led to "Qué Onda Güero", and people loved it. Speaking of the people - this was a VERY white audience, with some of the all-time worst white dancing I've ever seen. Like, shockingly bad. Wow. You can't diss it really, though. Music that gets people up and dancing should always be celebrated, it's just ... Wow. I think Beck is rock and roll that has been deemed "safe" for the older, whiter crowds that still want to feel cool, but will never mosh. Have never moshed. Safe rock. Having said that, Beck doesn't play it safe at all when it comes to his musical genres, doing exactly whatever he wants, when he wants. The entire night wound all over the place, from utter pop to deep gospel stomp, and everyone loved all of it, That's the beauty of Beck. He'll make them like kinds of music they might never have heard before,and gets them up and out of their chairs, FEELING it. That's a rare and important gift, and a delight (and comedy) to witness.

"The last time I played here was ten years ago! When I play songs here in Los Angeles, you get it and know what I'm talking about ... you're a product of your surroundings, and these are some strange, beautiful surroundings. This one is for the Lovers ... people don't talk about slow jams anymore, but I'm bringing that back." And Beck did bring slow jam back with "Debra" and its laughs-getting shout outs to places in L.A. like Glendale and Zankou Chicken. Beck is funny! And I'd never found him sexy before really, and both my friend and I were like, "Beck. Huh." with his swagger and playing stirring up new admiration for both his humor and total command of his show. Then he REALLY got into my heart with a lovely tribute to Prince, and a cover of "Raspberry Beret". The first time Beck ever came to the Bowl for a show was to see Prince - and I was there too. It was special, and now I love Beck even more.

"Nicotine & Gravy" was fly, and then "Hollywood Freaks" was brought out for the Hollywood weirdos in the house, complete with a big, trippy light show featuring lasers. Lasers really get the folks up dancing! The lady in front of us was losing her mind, and I was happy for her - even as her husband just checked Twitter and tried not to look at her going nuts. "I'm So Free " and "Dear Life" were both gorgeous, but up next was the highlight of the night for me. Beck brought out Fred Martin and his Levite Camp choir that blew the place apart with "Fourteen Rivers, Fourteen Floods", and "Like A Ship Without A Sail". Holy (literally) Moly! It was something else, full of harmonica and acoustic guitar and piano and clapping and WOW. "That was something special for tonight!" said Beck when it was over, and just, thank you. It was fantastic. (It also begged the question, HOW is Beck a Scientologist?! Like, WHAT?! So smart, so talented, bringing up Christian choirs, but believing in E-meters and shit like that? I don't get it.)

"Any requests?" brought out shouts for everything in Beck's catalog, plus one clever older white man yelling "Sinatra!" (Told you. Safe rock crowd.) Beck and his backing band harmonized at the front of the stage acoustically for a sublime version of "Lost Cause" that almost made me cry. "Truckdrivin' Downstairs Neighbor" was more L.A. storytelling (about lost record stores like Aron's, Moby Disc, Peaches), and then right into "Blue Moon" that was so pretty I decided then and there that acoustic, pretty Beck is my favorite Beck.

Pop Beck was back next, and the techno lasers and electronica video game style backdrop was completely different than the tunes played right before, and that required a Beck costume change as well, now back in all white to play us "Dreams" and "Girl". Everyone was up and dancing again for his "Sun-Eyed Girl", and that led right into "Wow" from Colors, that really was WOW. This was the rapping, attitude, break dance moves Beck - and I think he's my second favorite Beck. The man wears a LOT of musical hats (and just hats in general), and cracked everyone up again here when he said, "Say it like Owen Wilson ... Woooow". A decent impression that slayed the crowd.

"Loser" was next, and everyone went wild. This was how we first met Beck, and it brings me back to such a time in L.A. ... just moved here, driving down the Wilshire corridor, feeling young and disillusioned at the same time - as the sun shined over it all. "Loser" is a bookmark on the timeline of my life, and it was a pure treat to hear it again live at the Bowl. And it was also pretty funny - and powerful - that Beck can get a whole crowd singing loudly "I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me?" Calling themselves losers and asking to be killed is some serious lyric power, dude. "E-Pro" was next with its "Na na na na na na na!" chorus, that makes me think of E-Meter. No. At this point, my friend turned to me and said, "He's like a legit weirdo rock star. There aren't many of those anymore." True point of fact, and he also looks the SAME as he did when "Loser" dropped, for real. Rock keeps you young (if done the right way), clearly.

A quick little breather brought back Beck in a sparkly jacket and his whole crew on stage."Where It's At" was a total crowd pleaser, and also the answer to what was cool to be at on this night in L.A. THIS was where it was at. "That was a good drum break!" That led into band intros ("There's gonna be some preening!"), and each instrument did a little riff on a cover, from Talking Heads to Phil Collins (the drum standout) as Jason Falkner, Roger Manning, Jr, Dwayne Moore, Chris Coleman, Jake Sinclair, Cecilia Della Peruti, and Alex Lilly each got their well-deserved applause.

After a crowd singalong of "Happy Birthday" for Annie Clark (St. Vincent had her birthday this day, now I felt bad that we'd missed her spinning!), Beck got DOWN for "One Foot In The Grave" - a foot stomping, harmonica playing honky-tonker that the people loved. "He can do whatever he wants and everyone loves it", I said to my friend, and truly believed that he could have done polka jams and the crowd would have begun square dancing. Beck is a musical alchemist. "I think they're about to pull the plug on us, so the power might go out in the middle of this ...!" said Beck as they reprised "Where It's At" with full disco lighting and distorted vocals. The entire band electric slid sideways together off stage, and the crowd just kept on dancing. "That was some entertaining shit!" was overheard, and absolute fact. Beck puts on a SHOW.

Thank you, Beck! Thank you, Bowl! Another in a storied history of awesome shows. I'm so grateful for nights like these ... they really are what keep you going in this crazy world. It's like, WOW.

*Press photos courtesy of The Hollywood Bowl 

The Art Of The Sunset

2015 has already been about the most spectacular year on record for sunsets. The SUNSETS we've seen! They've been so beautiful your heart could just about burst. But last night's might just have topped them all. (So far.)

The social media feeds immediately filled up with Los Angelenos all sharing in the same nature situation. One photo was more beautiful than the next. But nothing compared to the real thing. I saw photos from the art show at the Barker Hangar last night, and every person there said the sky was the best work they saw. Truth. And free for all to enjoy.

I just happened to go outside of the building where I'm currently working to take a call. I nearly dropped the phone when I saw the absolute majesty unfolding above me in the Western sky. I ran inside and made all my colleagues stop what they were doing and follow me to the park outside.

Even the most jaded and cynical among them (and in the entertainment biz, they are legion) stood there, jaws on the ground. No words were needed, it was enough to stand there and soak it all in.

When we did make noise, it was mostly to gasp, but then I had to say how lucky I felt just to feel this glow of the unreal and truly Heavenly light on me. My friend said, "I know! Look at our faces!" It was a real and beautiful moment of people (workaholics) stopping everything to collectively enjoy a rare (not really this year, but still!) moment of natural beauty.

When I lived in Hawai'i, every evening people would stop and gather for "Sunset Hour" instead of Happy Hour. It's a lovely custom, bringing people together to share the ridiculous splendor of the setting sun. No matter what's going on with you, you feel better when you see it. And you can't help but feel grateful, and then you're back on top of your game!

After the buzz of seeing last night's sunset, I aborted my plans to be out and about, and instead, went within. I went to the greatest restorative yoga class at Studio Surya (that I don't even want to tell you about so it doesn't get all packed, but here you go), basically a nap class, where you held stretch positions forever until you zenned out and nearly slept. That was easy to get into, because the class is held in the dark, all candle-lit and trance inducing music vibes. And aromatherapy. And blankets and eye pillows. And TOTAL zone out relaxation.

At class's end, the soothing instructor, Amy, told everyone to inhale what you want to carry inside you. Then exhale what you want to put out into the world.

For each breath, I chose that evening's sunset.