New Acquisition: Three Casta Paintings by Juan Patricio Morlete Ruiz

April 21, 2011

This weekend LACMA added eight new works to its collection through its annual Collectors Committee events. All week on Unframed our curators will be highlighting the objects just acquired.

Juan Patricio Morlete Ruiz, From Spaniard and Morisca, Albino (De español y morisca, albino), c. 1760, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee

 Casta (“caste”) painting is one of the most compelling forms of artistic expression from colonial Mexico. These three works belong to a set of castas by Juan Patricio Morlete Ruiz that originally had sixteen scenes (over time many sets have been disassembled), and it is one of the finest of the genre. Morlete Ruiz was an influential member of a painting academy established in Mexico in the mid-eighteenth century, who was deeply attuned to ideas of pictorial innovation.

What makes the paintings so exceptional is what they illustrate three centuries before multiculturalism became fashionable: the intermingling of races in colonial society. Each scene depicts a family group with parents of different races and one of their children. During the colonial period Indians, Spaniards born in Spain as well as the New World (the latter known as Creoles), and Africans brought over as slaves all populated Mexico. The result was that a large percentage of the population became mixed, known collectively as castas (or “castes” in English)—from where the genre derives its name.

Juan Patricio Morlete Ruiz, From Spaniard and Albino, Return Backwards (De español y albino, torna atrás), c. 1760, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee

Casta paintings were largely produced for a European audience to classify and create order of an increasingly mixed society. This is especially important because in Europe there existed the widespread idea that all the inhabitants of the Americas (regardless of race) were degraded hybrids, which called into question the purity of blood of Spaniards and their ability to rule the colony’s subjects. Casta painting responds to this anxiety by constructing a view of an orderly society bound by love (hence the use of the familial metaphor), but one that was hierarchically arranged and that featured Spaniards at the top.

Juan Patricio Morlete Ruiz, From Spaniard and Return Backwards, Hold Yourself Suspended in Mid Air (De español y torna astrás, tente en el aire), c. 1760, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee

In his works, Morlete Ruiz situates the mixed couples in elaborate landscape settings and pays careful attention to the figures’ clothing and attributes. For example, some Spanish men hold a sword—a privilege that in colonial legislation was only reserved to this group—while some women sport a manga, a cape that resembles an inverted skirt fit from the head, worn exclusively by women of African descent ( it was adapted from a similar garment worn by Moorish women in Spain).

Juan Patricio Morlete Ruiz, From Spaniard and Albino, Return Backwards (De español y albino, torna atrás), c. 1760, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee (detail)

In addition to presenting a typology of human races, occupations, and dress, casta paintings picture the New World as a land of boundless natural wonder through precise renderings of native products, flora, and fauna. Morlete Ruiz’s works include an assortment of local fruits such as avocados. Products like these underscored the colonists’ pride in the diversity and prosperity of the colony, and at the same time they fulfilled Europe’s curiosity about the “exoticism” of the New World. In addition, they reflect the popularity of classificatory theories introduced by the Enlightenment and the interest in natural history.

Native American and Watermelons, from Charles de Rochefort, Histoire naturalle et morale des iles Antilles de l’Amerique (Roterdam, 1658).

This print, for instance, was included in a seventeenth-century book about the natural history of the New World. The artist resorts to the same formula of juxtaposing human types with local flora, except that here he includes a group of giant melons. This is in keeping with the general idea that Europe had of the Americas as an unusually hot place due to its geographic location, one where nature and people (regardless of their racial makeup) ripened and spoiled quickly. The overgrown fruit points to the unruly superabundance of the land and to its quick degradation.

Juan Patricio Morlete Ruiz, From Spaniard and Return Backwards, Hold Yourself Suspended in Mid Air (De español y torna astrás, tente en el aire), c. 1760, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee (detail)

Casta paintings respond to this idea by emphasizing the natural bounty of the Americas, and by emphasizing the superiority of Spaniards. If people degenerated, it was not due to the heat of the region (hence Spaniards where not affected), but to where they fell in the racial scaffolding—that is, to their type of mixture.

Juan Patricio Morlete Ruiz, From Spaniard and Albino, Return Backwards (De español y albino, torna atrás), c. 1760, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee (detail)

Indeed, the basic premise of the castas genre as articulated through its inscriptions, is that the successive combination of Spaniards and Indians resulted in a vigorous race of unadulterated white Spaniards after three generations. The combination of Spaniards or Indians with blacks, however, led to racial degeneration and the impossibility of returning to a whiter racial pole. This inscription, for example, refers to the mixture of a Spanish male and an Albino woman (Albinos were misguidedly believed to descend from blacks), which beget a torna atrás, literally a return-backwards, an expression by which was meant that their offspring receded in the racial hierarchy by moving away from the “whiteness” of pure Spaniards.

Juan Patricio Morlete Ruiz, From Spaniard and Albino, Return Backwards (De español y albino, torna atrás), c. 1760, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee (detail)

What makes casta paintings so compelling is the tension between the story they tell and how they tell it. On the one hand the works rank each racial group and articulate its place within an “invented” racial order. At the same time these are highly estheticized paintings that function as proud renditions of the local: their exquisite assortment of fruits and textiles alone make them fascinating images of the material culture of the period. And one cannot fail either to notice the great tenderness among the figures which serves to mask any sense of racial tension.

In 2004 I organized an exhibition of these fascinating works at LACMA titled Inventing Race: Casta Painting and Eighteenth-Century Mexico. Since then, we are constantly asked by the public about the works and whether we have any in the collection. Now we do! These paintings by one of Mexico’s most notable eighteenth-century masters will provide an important anchor to discuss the origin of racial perceptions and their ongoing effects in today’s society—a subject that is especially poignant in a city like LA. We will feature the paintings soon, in an upcoming reinstallation of our Spanish colonial galleries among many of our recent acquisitions. Stay tuned.

Ilona Katzew, Curator and Co-Department Head, Latin American Art

New Acquisition: Donald Judd, Prototype Desk

April 21, 2011

This weekend LACMA added eight new works to its collection through its annual Collectors Committee events. All week on Unframed our curators will be highlighting the objects just acquired.  

Donald Judd, Prototype Desk, 1978, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee

Donald Judd, one of the most significant artists of the latter half of the twentieth century, is often acknowledged as an originator of Minimalism, a style developed in the 1960s and characterized by the extreme reduction of form to simple repeated geometries, free from any historical references or narrative. Judd’s principal preoccupation was form in space, which, in “Specific Objects”, an eponymous essay of 1965, he called work that was “neither painting nor sculpture” but “challenges both.” As early as the mid-1960s, Judd demonstrated his belief that the space surrounding his work was equally essential to the viewer’s experience, carefully installing his own art (and that of others) in his home in New York. By the mid-1970s Judd included the design of architecture, furniture, and ceramics in his artistic practice.

This conviction led to a project of enormous ambition—the adaptive reuse of historic buildings (former industrial and army facilities as well as commercial and residential structures) in Marfa, a small town in the West Texas desert. There, from the 1970s until his death in 1994, Judd converted largely abandoned and unused buildings into living spaces, studios, and museum galleries for his own art as well as the art of several of his colleagues. His first major project was to convert a city block with two airplane hangers into a studio and residence for himself and his two young children. Unable to find furniture locally that suited his architecture, he decided to make his own, beginning in 1978 with beds and a pair of desks for his daughter and son.

The design of the prototype desk (this example made for his son, and later put into limited production) relates strongly to the formal logic of Judd’s box sculptures. Simple butt-joined pine boards are deliberately arranged and divided in regular measures by planes in the form of shelves, legs, and a desktop. The desk, with its repetition of planes and divisions, delineates space in a complex rhythm of surfaces and edges. Its open shelves (instead of drawers) a reflection of Judd’s commitment to visual transparency, the desk is one of the very few pieces made by the artist himself.

Two years earlier, Judd had made a series of fifteen plywood boxes of equal exterior dimension, each varied in open, closed, and divided interior volumes. (These boxes are now a centerpiece of the Dia Art Foundation collection.) One example from the series features a lifted top plane echoing the floating double planes of the desktop. The plywood boxes became the prototypes for Judd’s monumental series of 100 milled-aluminum boxes in the two former artillery sheds at Marfa he modified to house them—a virtual symphony of Euclidian geometry and an ideal symbiosis between art and architecture, space and light. As one ensemble, the building and the sculptures comprise the masterpiece of Judd’s oeuvre.

The prototype desk became a starting point for a whole series of indoor and outdoor furniture. Judd’s ideas about the integral relationship between art and architecture extend the principals of the Gesamtkunstwerk (total design unity) of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century Arts and Crafts movement. Judd  admired the movement and shared its goal to integrate art and life. With the acquisition of this rare desk, LACMA can now display a work seminal to Judd’s critically influential philosophy about the nature of art and design.

Wendy Kaplan, Curator and Department Head, Decorative Arts and Design

New Acquisition: Craig Kauffman, Untitled (1969)

April 20, 2011

This weekend LACMA added eight new works to its collection through its annual Collectors Committee events. All week on Unframed our curators will be highlighting the objects just acquired.

One of the original Ferus Gallery artists who helped put Los Angeles on the art world map—the one who, according to fellow Ferus artist Billy Al Bengston, “showed us the way”—Craig Kauffman is best known for the sensuously painted-plastic hybrids between painting and sculpture that he made in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Associated with both the Southern California Light and Space and Finish Fetish movements, Kauffman—like many of his SoCal contemporaries—to a great degree faded from public view in the 1980s and 1990s. Only with the rise of Los Angeles as one of the major centers of contemporary artistic production in the 1990s and early 2000s has significant attention been directed once again to an earlier generation of L.A. artists, including Kauffman.

Craig Kauffman, Untitled, 1969, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee, photo by Vicki Phung Smith, courtesy of the Estate of Craig Kauffman and the Frank Lloyd Gallery

The works in Kauffman’s loop series (ten total, each a different color or combination of two colors) function as both painting and sculpture and seem to hover in space, suspended as they are out from the wall. His use of industrial materials and fabrication techniques for the bent and lacquered plastic of Untitled, combined with his traditional painterly use of color, allowed Kauffman to achieve what noted art historian and critic Barbara Rose has called “a kind of abstract eroticism that is purely visual.” Most of Kauffman’s loops have either been hidden in collections for decades or were kept by the artist, so the series has remained fairly unknown and unseen until recently.

Kauffman’s use of plastic as a sculptural medium was informed not only by technological advances developed by the local aerospace industry in the 1950s and 1960s but also by his knowledge of modern masters such as Laszlo Moholy-Nagy and Naum Gabo, pioneers in the use of an earlier generation of plastics for their sculptures. Similarly, Kauffman’s interest in rich and sensual colors came out of his lifelong love of Henri Matisse who, Kauffman once said, “has always been my favorite painter.” The transparency of the loops may owe to Kauffman’s having seen Marcel Duchamp’s signature Large Glass in the French artist’s seminal 1963 retrospective at the Pasadena Art Museum.

Kauffman—and his loops in particular—will be included in two major upcoming shows this fall (at the Getty and the Museum of Contemporary Art, San Diego) both part of Pacific Standard Time, the Getty-sponsored exhibitions initiative throughout Southern California, highlighting the significance of art in Los Angeles in the postwar decades. Our new acquisition is also planned to go on view at LACMA this fall.

Carol S. Eliel, Curator, Modern Art

New Acquisition: Heian-Period Head of a Buddha

April 20, 2011

This weekend LACMA added eight new works to its collection through its annual Collectors Committee events. All week on Unframed our curators will be highlighting the objects just acquired.

Head of a Buddha, Japan, 1000–1050 (Heian Period), gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee

This large head was originally part of an eight-foot- tall seated Buddha, probably that of Amida,  ruler of the  Western Paradise of Ultimate Bliss. Made of cypress wood, it was lacquered in black and covered with gold leaf, traces of which remain. It bears the requisite characteristics of a Buddha: the crystal  Urna in the forehead emitting infinite light, the 656 tight curls of hair, and the all-hearing elongated ears. The head of a Buddhist statue is by far its most important element: the power, meaning, and compassion of the Buddha is expressed through its face. The construction of this head is of an ancient type primarily seen in sculpture of the eleventh century, called wari-hagi-zukuri (splitting, carving out, and rejoining). In this technique the head is first carved from a single large block of wood, then split into halves along a vertical line behind the ears, creating a front half and a back half. Both of these halves are then hollowed out using a chisel, and the two halves rejoined. This technique produces a sculpture that is lighter and far less likely to crack due to dryness.

This sculpture has been definitively dated to 1000–1050 AD. There exist three other  Heian period  (794-1185) sculptures comparable to Head of a Buddha in age and size; all are in Japanese Buddhist temples and all are registered National Treasures—but are inferior in condition and quality to this one.

Next month, Head of a Buddha will join three other eleventh- and twelfth-century (Heian-period) wood sculptures on display, but it will be—by a significant margin—the oldest and finest of them all.  Together,  the four works will give tremendous depth, quality, and breadth to our display of Heian-period sculptures of the eleventh and twelfth centuries.

Robert T. Singer, Curator and Department Head, Japanese Art

New Acquisition: 13th–14th Century Painted Panel

April 20, 2011

This weekend LACMA added eight new works to its collection through its annual Collectors Committee events. All week on Unframed our curators will be highlighting the objects just acquired.

Painted Panel, Mexico, Oaxaca/Guerrero border region, 1200–1400, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee

Rare in its scale and in its elaborate imagery, this painted panel derives from an archaeologically little-known area of southwestern Mexico. Its palette of strong primary colors and the prominent use of step-fret imagery throughout its composition, however, identify it as an extraordinary example of the artistic tradition referred to as the International Style, which dominated Mesoamerica during the Late Postclassic period (AD 1200–1400). The International Style originated in the present-day states of Oaxaca and Puebla and spread throughout much of Mexico via an extensive network of commercial and cultural trade routes. These networks, closely linked to the veneration of Quetzalcoatl, the Plumed Serpent, transcended ethnic identities and united disparate areas of Mesoamerica.

The unique aesthetic of the International Style characterizes work in all media from this period. Its specific motifs appear across Mexico, from ceramics from the Pacific coastal state of Nayarit to the murals of Mayapan in the heart of the Yucatan Peninsula to the turquoise mosaics produced in Oaxaca, testifying to the extent to which royal houses were driven to seek new materials in order to maximize the value of their works within the highly competitive gift economy that supported their political alliances. The style also characterizes the system of pictorial communication that allowed peoples speaking diverse languages to communicate with each other and to participate in a widely shared set of religious practices and beliefs.

The face of this panel is divided into three registers, each showing a composite human-serpent figure as its central motif. The intertwined pairs of serpents in each register are animated with human arms and hands, each of which holds a sinuous serpent, while another serpent emerges from the “knot” of each intertwined pair. The registers are framed with a step-fret design painted in red on a white background after the ceramic panel was fired. The geometric pattern of the outer frame reveals the unusual use of brilliant yellow and orange pigments as well as red. The reverse side is severly eroded, suggesting that it may have been in contact with organic matter such as paper, cloth, or human remains, but the painted vestiges of a single richly dressed human figure are still visible.

Within the geographic range of the International Style, the artistic and cultural origins of the panel is confirmed by comparing it to ceramic vessels recovered by UCLA archaeologist Clement Meighan during his excavations at Amapa, Nayarit in the 1950s. Like the panel, many of the objects feature intertwined serpents and step-fret designs and were painted after firing in the same strong primary color scheme. The origins and spread of the International Style is a primary topic of the upcoming exhibition Children of the Plumed Serpent: The Legacy of Quetzalcoatl in Ancient Mexico, opening in April 2012, in which the painted panel will figure prominently.

Virginia Fields, Senior Curator and Co-Department Head, Latin American Art

New Acquisition: Ai Weiwei, Untitled (Divine Proportion)

April 19, 2011

 This weekend LACMA added eight new works to its collection through its annual Collectors Committee events. All week on Unframed our curators will be highlighting the objects just acquired.

Ai Weiwei, Untitled (Divine Proportion), 2006, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee, photo: Giovanni Tarifeño, courtesy of Friedman Benda and the artist


On April 3, Ai Weiwei’s human right to free speech—and all other rights—were summarily taken away from him when he was arrested in Beijing. (LACMA, along with twenty-seven other art institutions around the world, urge you to sign this petition for his release.  More than 91,000 have signed so far.) The acquisition of Untitled (Divine Proportion) gives us the opportunity to consider Weiwei the artist and thinker—an artist whose ability to poetically transform material into objects embedded with meaningful ideas and consummate beauty assertively raises fundamental questions concerning human existence.

Untitled (Divine Proportion) employs materials and techniques associated with the historical past in order to explore the object in the present. While the type of wood and the way it is crafted recalls the making of utilitarian objects of an earlier era, Weiwei’s contemporary work of art is thoroughly of our moment. In its formal simplicity—the circle being the most common form in diverse societies around the world—and its title, the artist presents us with a contemplative object hinting at a mathematically derived spiritual dimension while remaining fully open to interpretation. Is it a globe, a ball, or just an abstracted work in the form of a circle? One critic has said that, “Overturning practical function transforms [Weiwei’s] pieces into inoperative but strangely elegant mutations that reintroduce the conceit of ornament and ritual back into the domain of art.” I’d agree.

Born in 1957 to a poet father whose leftist leanings led to the family spending the 1960s in Siberia, Weiwei and his family did not return to China until after his father’s “rehabilitation” and the end of the Cultural Revolution in 1976. Early in his career Weiwei thought of art as a means of getting away from politics, as well as a means of expressing himself as an individual; once back in Beijing, in fact, he joined the Stars Group, which believed each of their members to be a star in direct confrontation to communist uniformity. Having obviously put himself in the way of politics, as had his father, Weiwei embraced another exile, though voluntarily this time, spending most of the 1980s in New York. Returning to Beijing again in 1993, four years after the events of Tiananmen Square, Weiwei helped establish the experimental art community, the East Village, which also included the artists Ma Liuming and Zhang Huan, whose work recently came into LACMA’s collection thanks to the Los Angeles collector Audrey Irmas. Since then, Weiwei has become increasingly well known; his work constantly probes and pushes aesthetic and political boundaries, often exploring the role of the individual in society through writings and actions, as much as through individual pieces of art and architecture.

Amidst his activism, work as an architect (he was a collaborator with Herzog & de Meuron on the “Birds Nest,” China’s Olympic stadium in Beijing, in 2008) and busy studio practice, Weiwei also continues to make objects—the real heart of all his artistic endeavors. 

A collector and connoisseur of Chinese antiquities, Weiwei is fond of using “found objects” in his own work. While this Duchampian practice began when he was in New York, his return to Beijing in 1993 inspired him to turn to Chinese cultural materials and artifacts as an integral part of his art-making process. “I take the constitution and the political situation in China as a readymade,” he has said. In a twist on his hero Marcel Duchamp’s concept of the readymade, which purports that anything can be turned into an object of art, Weiwei introduced the “ancient readymade.” He displaces, recycles, and manipulates, sometimes even destroys traditional objects in order to “make it new.” One of the earliest works in this mode is Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn, from 1995, seen here in three documentary photographs of the artist destroying a 2,000-year-old vehicle of cultural tradition. The artist’s belief in iconoclasm as a way of creating new ideas and values is a central facet in his work.

Ai Weiwei, Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn 1/3, 1995, © Ai Weiwei

Less ironic, Divine Proportion is handcrafted from Huanghuali wood, a fine Rosewood used to make furniture during the Qing era, the sculpture is made by a carefully executed tenon and mortise technique perfected during the Ming (1368–1644) and Qing Dynasties (1644–1912). This nail-free joinery technique achieves a seamless connection of surfaces regardless of thickness or placement of wood. Made to withstand time, as earlier pieces were in this mode, Weiwei’s Divine Proportion evokes the past though it is built for the future.

Drawing by Leonardo da Vinci for De Divine Proportione

Leonardo da Vinci’s drawings for The Divine Proportion, made to illustrate Luca Pacioli’s book written in 1509, are some of the first drawings of polyhedra known to humanity. But Weiwei’s object was not originally modeled after Leonardo’s. He was first attracted to the toy his cats played with, which was exactly the same designed spherical object. That sense of playfulness coupled with the historical weight of early geometric drawings unified into a single beautiful object, goes to the heart of Weiwei’s endeavors to successfully combine wit with substantial subject matter in a mute object. The simple form of Divine Proportion is in line with the artist’s architectural projects that evince a clear-cut and precise sense of space.

As in the work of Sol Lewitt or Donald Judd, the extreme regularity of forms and volumes in the Divine Proportion sculptures delimits visual concreteness, and as a result, thoughts are directed to context, meaning, and nature of the material itself.

Later this year, we are proud to say that LACMA is the west coast destination for the artist’s recent project Zodiac Heads/Circle of Animals,  a twelve-piece installation of thirteen-foot-high bronze sculptures that represent the zodiac installed at the Old Summer Palace in Beijing, which was looted by the French and British in 1860. Some of those pieces have been returned as national treasures but others are still out there in the world. Weiwei’s work brings them all together again, in a sense. While that piece mends a broken circle together again, Divine Proportion speaks to the circle or globe as an inherently well put together place, strong in its connection and rich in its natural cohesion. Untitled (Divine Proportion) is tentatively slated to go on view by the end of this year.

Franklin Sirmans, Terri and Michael Smooke Curator and Department Head, Contemporary Art

New Acquisition: Christian Marclay, The Clock

April 19, 2011

This weekend LACMA added eight new works to its collection through its annual Collectors Committee events. All week on Unframed our curators will be highlighting the objects just acquired.

Christian Marclay, still from The Clock, 2010, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee, © Christian Marclay, photo courtesy Paula Cooper Gallery, New York

Born in San Rafael, California in 1955, Christian Marclay grew up in Geneva, Switzerland. He received his BFA from Massachusetts College of Art in 1980, and currently resides in London and New York City. Working in sound, sculpture, performance, video, and other time-based media, Marclay began manipulating gramophone records and creating time-based works using loops, skips, and scratches on turntables as musical instruments in the 1970s.

Christian Marclay, still from The Clock, 2010, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee, © Christian Marclay, photo courtesy Paula Cooper Gallery, New York

The Clock, a 24-hour single-channel montage, is constructed out of moments in cinema and television history depicting the passage of time; in other words, scenes in which all manner of clocks and reference to time appear. The Clock weaves together Marclay’s interests in collage and found visual and aural artifacts with his own roots in live performance.

The edited footage of clocks not only provides cues as to the role of time’s passage in the appropriated film narrative, but also serves as a functioning timepiece that marks the exact time in real time for the viewer. When one sees The Clock at 1:17 pm, for example, the action (or inaction) in the clip will be taking place at the same moment. Screened in a cinematic setting, it retains the rhythmic pulsations and tonal shifts typical of Marclay’s sound works but also plays with the viewer’s sense of expectation, casting time as a multifaceted protagonist and creating a conflation of tensions à propos the layered tempos of contemporary life.

Christian Marclay, still from The Clock, 2010, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee, © Christian Marclay, photo courtesy Paula Cooper Gallery, New York

Marclay follows a long trajectory of artists interested in the history of cinema and the ways in which its footage or grammar can be appropriated and recontextualized. Since the dawning of the medium, experimental and documentary filmmakers have used found or appropriated footage, such as in the collage techniques of Dadaism, Surrealism, and Constructivism, among other historical avant-gardes. An important, albeit much shorter, precedent to Marclay’s The Clock is Bruce Conner’s A Movie (1958), an experimental film which edits together clips from disparate sources, from stag films to sports footage to mainstream melodramas, to create a meta-film that throws out all rules of linearity and narrative progression. Similarly, The Clock causes the viewer to ruminate on what David Velasco, writing for Artforum in February 2011, calls a film or television show’s “temporal grammar” in the way that Marclay “string(s) together this panoply of irrational times according to a rational tempo, [making] salient the idiosyncrasies of movie time.” Additionally, The Clock pays homage to Andy Warhol’s eight-hour film, Empire (1964), which tracks the flickering floodlights of the Empire State Building from sunset to near total darkness around 2 am. It also recalls Swiss duo Peter Fischli and David Weiss’s signature film The Way Things Go (1987), in which a Rube Goldberg device performs a very simple task via a series of chain reactions in 29 minutes.

Christian Marclay, still from The Clock, 2010, gift of the 2011 Collectors Committee, © Christian Marclay, photo courtesy Paula Cooper Gallery, New York

The Clock’s presence at LACMA speaks directly to the institution’s interest in the intersections of contemporary art and cinema. It will be screened in LACMA’s Bing Theater in early May for its West Coast premiere, and in the galleries thereafter—all before its celebratory screening at the Venice Biennale this June.

Christine Y. Kim, Associate Curator, Contemporary Art

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