Jason Meadows. Venice Beach Beach Cruiser Challenge, 2012.

The title of VBB is apropos—a tongue-in-cheek reference to the Venice Biennale in Italy, the oldest international biennial in the world—and VBB was indeed a savvy satire of the global biennial phenomenon that gently questioned the economies of culture. Biennials and art fairs have long been utilized as civic strategies to drive cultural tourism, and as international biennial curator and critic Ivo Mesquita remarks, “There’s nothing new in this system, which seems to reproduce endlessly. On the contrary, it seems to validate economy more than arts and culture.” Rather, Mesquita posits, “it would be better for artists and exhibition curators to design and carry out projects…taking into account the challenges of a world of fluid identities and trespassed borders—one in which local and global are inexorably linked, where politics is cultural…and where such unresolved contradictions provide the dynamic space of creative inventiveness.” VBB embraced this dissolution of boundaries and network of political, economic, and cultural linkages through its amorphous structure—it layered over and blended with the local culture in a way that was not at all oppositional or interventionist, but rather embedded and respectful of the informal and formal relations of the boardwalk itself. In this way, it created a semi-autonomous space for creative production that could not be instrumentalized (in that moment) by a typical art world economy, but instead promoted a more democratic cross-current of exchanges that conformed to the culture of the boardwalk. Both high-level collector and weekend tourist could haggle over the same art performances, trinkets, and art objects following precisely the same social codes. All the artists arrived bleary-eyed at 5:30am each morning to claim their vendor stalls.

Of course, it would be naïve to believe that the nicely produced map/brochure, Hammer web and media presence, and inclusion in the VBB would translate into cultural capital that could be equally cashed in by every artist on the boardwalk. For many, their lives will continue as usual, with their participation in VBB perhaps yielding a positive uptick in sales for a few days, some good connections (and others that are fairly meaningless), maybe some flack from their neighbors and fellow regulars who remain unsure of the Hammer’s motives. It’s hard to say. For some of the “white cube” artists, participation in this event will increase their artistic capital and result in potentially lucrative connections, especially for recently graduated MFAs for whom this is their first museum-sponsored exhibition. Or maybe not so much—it’s hard to say.

It was also hard to put my finger on exactly what I took away from VBB, but as I reluctantly returned my bike, collected some trinkets that had piled up in my basket, and headed back to my car, I reveled in the memories of a great ride on the beach, some fascinating artwork, a two-headed turtle, Jimi Hendrix on roller skates, a dog in a bikini, and some good conversations. Which is quite a bit more than your typical art opening. As Ali described, “It’s exhilarating to have the conversation of art amongst all the noise.”

-Sue Bell Yank, Assistant Director, Academic Programs

Filed under: Venice Beach Biennial

Cara Earl with her Los Santos de Terrorismo.

Erika Vogt’s mystery IOU currency is a poetic commentary on the Venice Beach context, one based in a long history of struggles to preserve the free expression and exchange of ideas along this strip of public space. Ali and project coordinator Claire de Dobay Rifelj learned much about the ins and outs of the Venice Beach artistic community from several insiders, including long-time artist Arthure Moore (as portrayed in this video) and free expressionist Therese Deitlin. Though there is far more complexity than is possible to cover here, they essentially learned that Ocean Front Walk has maintained its status as a “Free Speech and Expression Zone” amid many governmental attempts to impose stricter rules regarding performance and free speech on this tourist hub. It is currently regulated by Ordinance 42.15, which was heavily lobbied and revised by free speech activists to preserve this zone of open expression.

The ordinance also defines the types of wares allowed on the boardwalk–these are “expressive items,” and “created” items that are “inherently communicative and of nominal value or utility apart from its communication.” Hence, the city’s definition of art, encoded as a matter of public policy. The designated vending spaces are further regulated by informal codes enforced by a tight network of regulars, who collectively decide space reservation protocol and an internal system of priorities around the city’s “first-come, first-serve” policy. As a result of this contentious history, some artists and Venice Beach activists were initially suspicious of the Hammer Museum and its motives—how could the institution avoid being seen as an interloper into a complex network of relations and policies determining the usage of this public space?

But as the result of radical inclusivity and a lot of personal outreach and groundwork (mostly in the form of Ali and Claire’s genuine enthusiasm, accessibility, and desire to meet with every person who raised any sort of objection or question), VBB was able to foster a summer camp-like atmosphere of extreme bonding. This included a kind of “initiation” of newbie Hammer artists, connections and collaborations with regulars, peace offerings of food and t-shirts, and a little extra excitement in the air. Some regulars still protested their characterization in an artist booklet produced by Lisa Anne Auerbach and Robby Herbst, and some retained a sense of exclusivity or trespass on the part of the Hammer, but most went right along with the flow and even enjoyed it. The Venice Beach community is certainly not monolithic, and the beauty of VBB was that it never made (as a curatorial project) any attempt to frame it as such.

Arthure Moore with his "Funky Pussy" paintings

- Sue Bell Yank, Assistant Director, Academic Programs

Filed under: Venice Beach Biennial

Matt Chambers with his painted beach towels.

Sue Bell Yank is the Associate Director of Academic Programs at the Hammer Museum. She also writes about contemporary art for various arts outlets, including her own blog, Social Practice.

On Friday July 13, I rented a pink beach cruiser (with a basket!) on the edge of the Santa Monica-Venice border and rode south to check out the Venice Beach Biennial. A weekend-long affair organized by Hammer curator Ali Subotnick in conjunction with the Hammer’s first Made in LA biennial, the VBB took place Friday-Sunday in public spaces between 17th Ave and Ozone Ave on Ocean Front Walk, with a cluster of activity in the recreation and parks area. Although I am a Hammer staff member, I was uninvolved in the planning of the biennial and had few expectations other than a vague notion that “white cube” artists (contemporary artists who traditionally show in gallery and museum venues) would be exhibiting their wares alongside artists who were Venice Beach regulars.

Sarah and a visitor enjoying Liz Craft's Weed Couch.

When I hit the joyful chaos of Venice, the activities of the VBB blended so seamlessly with the wandering tourists, sidewalk artists, s¬¬and sculptors, skateboarders and loungers that I cruised around a little aimlessly for a while. Slowly, as I got my bearings, signifiers of the VBB began to pop into focus – legions of bobbing pink balloons emblazoned with Arthure Moore’s Funky Pussy logo on most vendor stalls, and screen-printed VBB posters and t-shirts peeked through the crowds. I circled the recreation and parks area for a little while, said hi to Ali and a couple of artists I know, and began to notice some interesting stuff. A little Ooga Booga Chinatown façade by Pentti Monkkonen, some Barbara Kruger stickers on the ground, Liz Craft’s strange yellow Weed Couch, a stark Jason Meadows sculpture, and my buddy Nery Gabriel Lemus stenciling finely ground colored sawdust into precise patterns on the ground. Matt Merkel Hess, wearing a straw fedora, was selling his beautiful, useless ceramic sunglasses in one of the vendor stalls, and Alexis Smith and Scott Grieger were selling a variety of funny objects included gold-plated dog poo (“We made about a hundred dollars,” Alexis shrugged). I tried to use the pink and yellow Hammer-produced map to figure out where everything else was, but the work was so embedded and hidden (in cafes, bookstores, or in the very social systems of the boardwalk itself – like Erika Vogt’s special IOU currency, which I never glimpsed) I quickly gave up, threw the map in my cruiser basket, and began to notice everything interesting¬, VBB or not.

Alexis Smith's Stand.

Which, of course, was precisely the point. The curatorial framework of the VBB was almost the negation of structure – it insisted on fluidity and non-definition. The organizing principles of VBB did not attempt to reign in, but punctuated and interwove a professionalized art world familiar to the Hammer (the university-educated, gallery-represented, MFA set, plus donors, viewers, collectors, and other afficionados) into the slipstream of culture that is the organized chaos of the Venice Boardwalk. Ali Subotnick was intentional in preserving these undefined edges – she told me she was specifically not trying to “go and take over” the boardwalk, but rather to intensify an awareness and serious consideration of all the multivalent artistic activity in Venice Beach, and to highlight its very unique cultural community. “Where is the art?” people would ask. I would answer this by borrowing a phrase from artist Mario Ybarra, Jr., “You’re breathing it in.”

Nery Gabriel Lemus mid project.

-Sue Bell Yank, Associate Director of Academic Programs

Filed under: Venice Beach Biennial

love dis’ place is a sculpture designed to fit on a passenger door. The locations are between the LA river and Venice beach. The voice over is from a friend of mine who had just been hanging out in venice beach. Terry. It started as an adventure story but became a portrait. I’m still not sure who of.  –Adam Janes

Adam Janes is a Los Angeles-based artist who will be filming on location around Venice and the boardwalk during the Venice Beach Biennial. This video is a preview of what’s to come.

Filed under: Venice Beach Biennial

Interview with Venice Beach Biennial artist Flewnt.

A recent assemblage painting by Flewnt

How long have you been selling your work on the boardwalk and what brought you here?
I would say 8 years now. A friend of mine told me to try to sell out here. It’s a good platform. Before that I only did a little art—sketchbooks and drawings. I used to make all-natural pipes out of coconuts and bamboo.

How did you start making your paintings with found objects?
I’ve been in L.A. since I was 9 years old. For a while I was living in Hawaii, to get a different scene, and I started making little pieces out of different objects. From there I just kept adding more things on.

Flewnt in his vending space on the boardwalk (space #111, located just north of Park Avenue).

Where do you usually go to find materials?
I’ve reached that level where they just come to me now. If I’m driving and I see something, I might pick it up. But for the most part I stopped that years ago. You start becoming a hoarder. “Oh, there’s another door!” Everything is art if you really look at it, but that’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to make art. So a lot of times if I need something, I’ll just go to Home Depot and buy a bunch of wood, cut it all up, and build it. You’ll see me doing this texture here, but then in the studio you’ll see something different. My whole goal is to flip it so hard, you’d think someone one else did this piece. For me, that’s all-around art. People say they’re chefs, right? They come to your house, see what’s there, and then they want to go to the grocery store. If you’re a chef, work with what you’ve got! Art is like that too.

Does the boardwalk make its way into your work?
I watch people’s shoes—they give me a good color scheme. Like over there: there’s good old black and white. You can tell a lot about people from their shoes. This is the world right here walking on the beach: Mexico, Japan, China, Canada, Denmark—wherever.

What do you like about this area in particular?
I love Venice. The boardwalk and the art saved my life. I have nothing bad to say about it. So many people out here try to own it, that’s what’s ruining it. They think they’re entitled to something.

Flewnt signing the back of a work just purchased by a customer.

Where did you get your name?
It started out as a game of dice, trying to hit three sevens in a row. “Flewnt Sevens.” Together that’s twenty-one—I love that number. When I started out, twenty-one thousand was my goal for how much I wanted to get for my paintings in one go. Bam! Cut me a check.

Venice boardwalk, Venice, CA
Interview conducted by Claire de Dobay Rifelj

Filed under: Venice Beach Biennial

Interview with Venice Beach Biennial artist Sky (Stacey Kai Young).

SKY at her vending booth on the boardwalk, just south of Westminster Avenue.

How long have you been selling your work on the boardwalk?
I first set up here about 12 years ago with a wonderful fellow painter, Brian Mylius. He showed me the ropes and encouraged my painting. I owe a lot to him. I’ve been setting up on and off since and I’ve been back full-time for three years.

Has the boardwalk changed in that time?
The boardwalk is always changing. Everyday it’s something different. Since the new ordinance there is a lot more art to see.

SKY, "Sunrise Illusion." Acrylic on canvas. 30 x 40 in. Courtesy of the artist, www.artbysky.com.

What made you take up painting?
I needed art for my walls and I couldn’t afford to buy anything. My mom bought me canvas and paint. I didn’t know what I was doing—I couldn’t even clean a paintbrush. I just started painting. My friends really encouraged me and so did my parents. I’d actually moved to L.A. to be an actress. Evidently acting was just the vehicle to get me to California, and I was meant to be here. I feel so grateful that I found my true calling.

What materials do you use?
I started with oils, but I’ve been using more acrylics lately. I’ve really learned how to work with acrylics. I used to think that my best work was done with the oils. That’s what I use at home, and that’s where I’m most relaxed and in tune, so I think sometimes they come out better. Although some of my best sellers are acrylics.

What questions do you get asked most out here?
Lots of questions: What’s my medium? What inspires me? How do you get to X, Y, or Z? How do I set up here?

What keeps you coming back to the boardwalk?
Good times. Venice and the boardwalk have been really good to me. It’s always interesting and there are a lot of things to do here. When I first moved to California, I spent more time outside in the first year than I had outside in my whole life. You can bike, skate, or play Frisbee on the beach. All my paintings are inspired by a love of nature. I work on the beach, and most of the time it’s sunny and beautiful. You get to meet so many people and the feedback is just incredible, that’s what really gave me confidence as an artist.

SKY, "Moonlit Forest." Acrylic on recycled wood. Courtesy of the artist, www.artbysky.com.

May 27, 2012

Venice boardwalk, Venice, CA

Interview conducted by Claire de Dobay Rifelj

Filed under: Venice Beach Biennial

Interview with Venice Beach Biennial artist Albert Culbertson.

Albert Culbertson working on a traditional solar engraving along the Venice boardwalk, at Wave Crest Avenue.

How long have you been selling your work on the boardwalk?
I moved here and started selling my work on the boardwalk in November 1993.

How have you seen it change in that time?
When I was first here nothing could legally be sold. We had to take the city of L.A. to court on our First Amendment rights. That was a big deal and made things legal for artists. Over time a bunch of “entrepreneurs,” as I like to call them, came here and decided to turn the place into a flea market, which is understandable. Why not set up shop on the world’s most valuable real estate for free? The recent ordinance is trying to give it back over to more first amendment type of activities. There’s always politics going on here.

Albert Culbertson and Indira Burgos (Postribalart), Too Late, 2012. 16 x 20 in. Solar engraving; and The Om Girl, 2012. 8 x 10 in. Laser engraving. Both courtesy of Postribalart, http://www.etsy.com/shop/postribalart

Tell us about your work.
I like burning images into wood. I’m mostly a draftsman, as opposed to a painter. About thirty years ago, my daughter and I would burn images with a magnifying glass and sunlight. That’s the way I’ve been doing it for the past couple decades. For the last twelve years I’ve worked with a partner, Indira Burgos. We share an interest in cultural symbology and sustainable resources. Since May we’ve also been using a CO2 laser to burn into the wood. Using solar energy is a very time-consuming process, and quite frankly, the Venice boardwalk is not a big money type of place. You come here, get a 99-cent slice of pizza, and you leave. You watch the freak show all day.

Can you tell tourists from locals?
Yes, pretty much. One way to judge a potential buyer—especially when I’m working with my head down—is to check out their shoes. And when people aren’t carrying bags, you know you’re not going to make any sales. That means the stores aren’t selling anything either. You have to figure out a way to cater to the general public, which is who we cater to out here.

Albert Culbertson working on a traditional solar engraving along the Venice boardwalk, at Wave Crest Avenue.

What brought you to Venice originally?
The weather. When I threw my hands up and said “I don’t want to do anything in life besides make art,” I had to figure out where to do that without freezing to death. What I like about being a boardwalk artist is that my art goes all over the world. I don’t have to go anywhere because the world walks in front of me. I have a piece of work in a helicopter in Cambodia… Picasso can’t say that.

May 24, 2012

Venice boardwalk, Venice, CA

Interview conducted by Claire de Dobay Rifelj

Filed under: Venice Beach Biennial

My Lovely Assistant
Video by Liz Craft

Artist Liz Craft is known for her humorous, poignant sculptures—a female skeleton riding a motorcycle, a Venice beach hippie on roller skates, a Magician’s assistant, sawed in half, and a couch with a woman lying on her back. For the Venice Beach Biennial, a variation on the sofa sculpture—minus the figure—will be installed near a new building on Rose Avenue and 5th St. in Venice Beach. The brightly painted fiberglass couch, covered in lifelike weeds, will be installed to mimic the tradition of leaving discarded couches out on the sidewalks. The video here features a magician wheeling Craft’s sculpture of the sawed-in-half woman around the streets of Venice Beach, CA. The Venice Beach Biennial will take place July 13-15, 2012. Learn more.

Filed under: Venice Beach Biennial