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Would you turn down the opportunity to watch a lucha libre match
in the atrium of
SFMOMA? I
sure couldn't. Wednesday night I waltzed in to the museum to find an
elevated wrestling ring, bright lights, pounding techno. The hipster
masses stood around and politely waited until the overhead lights dimmed
and the contestants paraded down the central staircase escorted by
gorgeous vato girls. They then proceeded to beat the hell out of
each other for a good half an hour. The event was staged by artist
Carlos Amorales, whose press release claimed there were all these
subtexts going on about conflict with self and performance as art and
blah blah blah. All I know is that it was hella fun, especially when the
wrestlers didn't quite know what to do with the flying tortillas coming
at them from the audience (a la Incredibly Strange Wrestling). I wish I
could adequately describe the sounds of the body slams echoing against
all that marble.
I would have loved to attend the opening of Kim Frohsin's Provocative
Poses, 2001-2003 show at Dolby Chadwick just to surreptitiously watch
the reactions of other attendees to her sexed-up drawings and paintings
of solitary women. Instead I made do with wandering around the gallery
on my lunch break Thursday, trying not to get too visibly turned on by
the sassy ladies. I had this same problem with the drawings in the Rodin
Museum in Paris. If you go, I dare you to guess which one is my
favorite.
From Dolby Chadwick I meandered a couple blocks over to Haines to see
the James Turrell pieces they have up right now for The Light
Within. It was hard for me to get into his holograms, though maybe I
just didn't give them enough time to reveal their secrets. The
installation, however, was fantastic. I walked through a narrow corridor
straight into a cave-dark room, and for an instant I was absolutely
terrified. Then my eyes began to adjust and panels of color and light
revealed themselves in front of me. I remembered to start breathing
again after a few moments.
Yet more art that evening at Juice Design for the Keepsake party,
where I ran into friends galore. Each of the 50 artists represented
submitted pieces that were no larger than 5 inches square, which made for
some highly tempting clusters of objects. Our Lady of the Highway
attempted music in a corner while I and the rest of the crowd stood
around with sweat rolling down our backs on one of those three very hot
nights San Francisco gets every year. I liked a lot of what I saw (and
the prices were quite reasonable), but I was good and didn't buy a thing.
Friday night I popped in Love and Death and then proceeded to
prove my status as a lightweight by getting totally blasted from one
Pacifico. It made Woody Allen's take on Tolstoy that much funnier,
however. I also adore Diane Keaton more and more with each of these
films I see her in.
The hot weather was still very much in effect Saturday afternoon when I
made my way to Julia Morgan Center for the Arts for the Shotgun Players'
presentation of Brecht's Mother Courage and Her Children. Trish
Mulholland was stunning in the title role, playing a 17th-century
businesswoman desperately trying to make a living during wartime at the
same time that the conflict keeps ripping her children from her. Both
scathingly funny and heartwrenchingly tragic in turn, this play is
all-too-timely in our present day and age. After all, what is Iraq about
if not money?
Amorales vs.
Amorales
Lucha
libre
Dolby Chadwick
Gallery
Kim Frohsin
Anaïs Nin
Rumi
Edna St. Vincent
Millay
Haines
Gallery
Roden Crater
Juice Design
Keepsake Society
Eden Bakti
Tiffany Bozic
Our Lady of the
Highway
Love and
Death
Shotgun Players
Bertolt
Brecht
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Heidi J. De Vries
