The heat wave in Malibu has abated, we hope, and It is time once again for Pacific Standard Time’s LA/LA. an unprecedented and welcomed exploration of Latin American and Latino art, sponsored in large part by the Getty.
Indeed, it seems it is always time for LA/LA since it was launched several months ago at the LA County Museum and is continuing there, and, of course, at the Getty, and seemingly everywhere across Southern California., as I comment this week on public radio 97.5 KBU and select websites.
With some 100 concurrent exhibitions, programs and events scheduled over four months at no less than 70 cultural institutions, selecting what to see and then finding time to visit the venues can be a real challenge for those with real lives,.
For me recently it was finding an hour plus downtown to duck into Union Station, to see a here-to-fore hidden, mesmerizing mural, a 43 panel chronological history of Los Angeles, from the founding of the city in 1781 to 1981.
That is when the mural painted by Barbara Carraco was to be displayed as part of L.A.’s bicentennial on, of all things, a McDonald’s exterior downtown, but was censored. It seems 14 of the images were considered offensive, depicting past discriminatory events involving the city’s black, Mexican and Japanese minorities. Nothing like displaying the truth to worry the powers-that-be.
So into storage it went, appearing briefly at Union Station in 1990. And now it is at Union Station again, properly hailed and labeled an “un-censoring” as part of an exhibition co-curated for LA/LA by the LA Cultural and Arts Plaza and the California Historical Society.
I would have liked to seen more of the display on rebel art, but since I was downtown I also wanted to see the Pacific Standard Time’s exhibit at the Central Library, “Oaxaca in L.A”, the city being the home to the largest population of indigenous Oaxacans outside Mexico.
I unfortunately missed the program, as I frankly have some others. There are just too many.
I’m sure it is also daunting for the Getty overseers, museum curators and ardent academics to make time, even though salaried, or just even having their travel expenses covered.
But what of the committed, causal or just curious aesthete, the public, for whom these offering are ostensibly directed? And also what about many of my old media acquaintances, who keep showing up while their publications sadly continue to wilt and no longer pay?
Then of course, there is the constant attraction of what is being presented. It’s like taking an art appreciation course, and loving it.