Marching forward, creatively
Los Angeles’ cultural community finds ways to make its many voices heard on inauguration weekend.
The presidential election of Donald Trump has drawn reactions from all over the cultural establishment — from a plea for inclusiveness by Broadway’s cast of “Hamilton” to then-Vice President-elect Mike Pence to a call for a national culture strike on Inauguration Day, supported by prominent visual artists such as Cindy Sherman and Richard Serra.
Inauguration weekend marked an important transition point not only for the country but for artists critical of many of Trump’s promises, including the report last week that the administration may target the National Endowment for the Arts and the National Endowment for the Humanities for elimination.
In this climate, it seemed fitting to find out how Los Angeles’ arts community was responding to the dawn of the Trump era. Many gestures were modest, but in sum they revealed that the advent of the Trump presidency is no ordinary moment in American cultural life.
The Actors’ Gang
Thursday, Jan. 19, 5:30 p.m.
Twelve hours before Trump was scheduled to be sworn into office, some three dozen members of Culver City’s Actors’ Gang theater gathered in a plaza before their building to turn on a light. The vigil was part of the nationwide Ghostlight Project, a way for the theater community to “create ‘light’ for dark times ahead” by proclaiming a commitment to tolerance.
The sky was turning cobalt and the wind had a chilly edge as actor Brian Finney read a short statement: “When our theaters go dark at the end of the night, we turn on a ‘ghostlight’ — offering visibility and safety for all who might enter.”
On cue, the light came on, to which the crowd added the glow of their cellphones.
LACE
Friday, Jan 20., 7:45 a.m. morning to stage a work by Rachel Mason. Known for performing as a character called FutureClown, Mason lip-synced the new president’s speech as it happened via a live stream on Facebook … while dressed up as a clown.
As Trump said he’d put “America first,” Mason, in a green-andbrown polka-dot number, with a Cubist-looking headdress and face paint — mouthed along and made Trumpian finger gestures.
It was the only event Friday at the arts space, closed in observance of the national art strike.
“Presenting this with Rachel is our way of commenting,” said LACE executive director Sarah Russin, “giving an artist an artistdriven project to respond to the election.”
MOCA
Friday, Jan. 20., 11:45 a.m.
The Museum of Contemporary Art on Grand Avenue was open for business on Inauguration Day — except for the single gallery that contained “Morning: Chapter 30,” an expansive, multi-panel work by New York painter R.H. Quaytman. The artist had requested that the museum close this particular room as an Inauguration Day protest.
A printed sign bearing text by Quaytman explained her decision:
“I intended the large panoramic painting to be an American landscape,” she wrote. “I painted it in the months leading up to the election but finished it before knowing the outcome. Today the outcome is tragically clear. I named the painting and exhibition ‘Morning’ for the sounds of that word, and today I would like my American landscape to do exactly that: mourn.”
“For her, Friday is a day of mourning,” MOCA Director Philippe Vergne said. “We wanted to respect that — and that word, ‘respect,’ is very important.”
Hammer Museum
Friday, Jan. 20, 5 p.m.
The Hammer Museum, like MOCA, remained open on Inauguration Day. But it too provided artists with a space in which to speak out by serving as an informal outlet for the free nationwide distribution of a tabloid comic drawn by women reacting to Trump’s election.
The 40-page publication titled “Resist!” was edited by New Yorker art director Françoise Mouly, cofounder of the famed ’80s-era comics magazine “Raw,” and her daughter Nadja Spiegelman.
It is stocked with memorable images, including an inky black illustration by artist Sue Coe, showing Trump in the shape of a tornado; and a full-page piece by Alison Bechdel, the comic artist behind the award-winning graphic memoir and Tony-winning Broadway musical “Fun Home.”
“Artists of all genders, ethnicities, religions and sexual orientations, Midwestern artists and immigrants, celebrated cartoonists and 13-year-old girls heeded the call and grabbed their pens,” reads the editor’s letter. “The result is an outpouring so genuine it can’t help but endure.”
LACMA
Friday, Jan 20, 7:30 p.m.
Friday night the rain broke as people poured into L.A. County Museum of Art’s Bing Theater for a film by artist Edgar Arceneaux.
“Until, Until, Until…,” about Ronald Reagan’s 1981 inaugural gala, features a controversial songand-dance routine by Broadway star Ben Vereen. In tribute to vaudevillian Bert Williams, Vereen had donned blackface. But when ABC cut a key performance part from the televised broadcast, Vereen’s intentions were misinterpreted and there was backlash.
The work, examining the intersection of race and politics was magnified on the inauguration day of Trump, who made controversial statements about Muslims, African Americans and Mexicans during the campaign. Introducing the film, Arceneaux was visibly rattled.
“Watching Obama get on a helicopter and leave D.C. and hand the key to the White House to …” he said, unable to finish.
But the evening ended on a high note. The artist arranged for a visit from organizational psychologist Roberto Vargas, who took to the stage with a drum to give the audience a morale boost. Said Vargas: “We do our art, we do our work, we do our life to make a better world.”
Good Luck Gallery
Saturday, Jan. 21, 7:30 a.m.
Saturday at Chinatown’s Good Luck Gallery, between architectonic-looking ceramic sculptures by Sylvia Fragoso, were dozens of people making protest posters before the women’s march in downtown L.A. and fueling up on doughnuts and hot coffee.
“I didn’t know if anyone would show up, but they did!” proprietor Paige Wery said.
They weren’t the only ones. Around the city, artists gathered at arts centers such as Boyle Height’s Self-Help Graphics and Bergamot Station in Santa Monica to fabricate posters and establish meeting points in advance of the protest. On an artist loft building on Spring Street downtown, the painter known as Gronk hung a flag of his recurring female character, Tormenta, to cheer on the protesters.
At 8:45 a.m., the artists at Good Luck Gallery gathered for a group portrait and then began the 30minute walk to the march’s starting poinst at Pershing Square.
There, the group melded into the larger crowd, where artist Catherine Opie, who sits on the board of the Museum of Contemporary Art, was taking pictures (and helping with crowd control).
“It is often artists who are a public voice of opposition,” she said before disappearing into the crowd as the march kicked off. “Artists need to bring that voice of opposition to this cause — with every drop of blood and every tear.”
Disney Hall
Sunday, Jan. 22, 7 p.m.
Despite Sunday’s soaking rain, the Los Angeles Master Chorale drew a full house for an evening performance of Beethoven’s “Missa Solemnis” at Walt Disney Concert Hall. Completed in 1823, at the end of his life, the 80-minute mass is a work that Beethoven considered one of his greatest.
As Artistic Director Grant Gershon took to the podium, he paused to say a few words, something he doesn’t generally do.
“But this is an extraordinary time,” he said, “and an extraordinary weekend in this city,” a nod to Saturday’s women’s march, followed by hearty applause.
Gershon then pointed out the raw power of the Agnus Dei, the final movement, which is punctuated by a moment of great musical turmoil, “representing a world that is careening out of control.”
“The music reaches the brink of catastrophe and then subsides,” Gershon said. “The end of the music doesn’t feel like a resolution — it feels more like a question.”
Then he raised his baton and the deep notes of Beethoven’s “Missa Solemnis” began to rumble through the hall — a nearly 200year-old composition that remains hauntingly, achingly current.