The beautiful exhibition catalog for MADE IN L.A. 2020: a version—available to order from the Hammer Store—includes a folio of collages by Hedi El Kholti bound into the book, as well as a conversation with El Kholti and Chris Kraus. The artist-designer-editor has also created two posters, available as exhibition takeaways at the HammerMuseum and the Huntington.
Prison has a lot of politics. Art was a neutral zone and a way to express the human emotions that both I and the other inmates were feeling… I’d love to meet other artists and find out what’s going on out here. I’m learning a lot about art politics on a day-to-day basis. — FultonLeroy Washington
In my own Crow community, we have a whole policing system that uses teasing. Any time a tribal member is getting egotistical, there is a cousin who will notice it, and their job in the community is to make fun of you and bring you down a couple notches. If you are sick, their purpose is to come and joke with you. So it’s very natural for me.
Humor is healing to me… To have that element in my work is quite Native, or Crow, and I’m glad that it comes through. It’s universal. People can connect with the work that way. Then they can be open to talking about race. — Wendy Red Star
Contemporary sculpture is populated by hybrid techno-bodies. But such connections between technology and the body reach far back into modernity. The symposium explores these lines of reference: How can sculpture be thought of and defined in relation to technological developments? How, in turn, does sculpture relate to changing concepts of the body and corporeality? What are the consequences for a theory of contemporary sculpture? These and other questions form the focus of the discussion with leading theorists from various disciplines.*
Maybe within the museum dance can have another rhythm, temporality, be made more elusive. Dance could then escape the heavily prescribed regime often found in theaters, with concise beginnings and ends and a required length. Here then it could even be made “ghostly.”
Even then, I can attest to my general feelings of unease with the weight of History and the collecting of objects within the museological frame. This unease also bears on questions of site/sight as it pertains to the museum as space for viewing dance and performance. I have become increasingly more comfortable and, let’s say, provoked by the role of seeing and being seen by an audience. This relation to an audience is crucial and in large part where the resistance lies in my work. — Ligia Lewis*
As the Hammer Museum, the Huntington, and an art-starved public wait for the chance to experience Made in L.A. 2020: a version in person, artist and choreographer Ligia Lewis has created a video documenting deader than dead, her work for the biennial.
Performed by Jasper Marsalis, Jasmine Orpilla, Austyn Rich, and Lewis, deader than dead “began with an intrigue-based inquiry into deadpan, an impassive mannerism deployed in comedic fashion in order to illustrate emotional distance. Utilizing this expression as a type of stasis, Lewis initially developed a choreography for ten dancers that remained expressively flat or dead, resisting any narrative or representational hold tied to a climactic build or progression. Lewis had relegated deader than dead to this corner of the gallery (a kind of ‘dead’ space) where the dance would ostensibly emerge, although deadened in its repetition, limited in its fate, as it ricocheted from wall to wall.
“[Lewis] abandoned this recursive ensemble of death due to COVID-19, reducing the cast to four performers and pivoting to a more traditionally theatrical presentation. In this new work the dancers use Macbeth’s culminating soliloquy (‘Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,’ a reflection on repetition and meaninglessness) as the beginning of a work that unfolds in modular parts, each one an illustration or parody of death, stasis, and the void, each one tied to its own carefully selected soundtrack or sample.”**