L.A. ARTISTS
by Price Latimer Agah
Photographed by Thomas Whiteside
The dandy English writer and raconteur Quentin Crisp once quipped that
“Los Angeles is just New York lying down”.
By lying down, I presume that he was not only referring to L.A.’s
vast physical sprawl, but also to lying down as an act of repose.
Amongst the eight emerging and established Los Angeles-based artists
interviewed below, the consensus is that the city, despite its residents’
oft-expressed feeling of isolation and aversion to traffic,
has become a damn fine place to be an artist. The archetypes of the L.A.
art scene have yet to be written in the annals of art history; at this point,
it is a choose your own adventure, allowing artists the capacity and freedom
to forge their own respective way. The sublime weather, affordable studio
and living spaces, broad-minded cultural and intellectual climate, burgeoning
creative community, cultural diversity, as well as the city’s tangible sense of
both promise and lack of reserve have all affected these artist’s decisions to
live and work in the American megalopolis supreme.
Underneath the stereotypical L.A. culture and style, there seems to be,
in fact, a little something for everyone.
BRENDAN FOWLER
Full Name: Brendan James Fowler
Age: I’m 31 years old.
Occupation: Artist, and also I get to edit and deal with ANP Quarterly Magazine.
So I guess artist/magazine editor/game coordinator.
Astrological Sign: Super Aries. Heavy, heavy duty Aries.
Where did you grow up? I grew up in Berkeley, CA until I was 8 years old.
Then I moved to rural Baltimore County in Maryland. Total culture shock, uncomfortable,
upset, unhappy culture shock. Then I moved to New York when I was 19 to go to college.
How long have you lived in Los Angeles? I moved here when I was 24. In ‘24.
I moved in 1924. Mining. Prospecting. I started Barney’s Beanery. No, I moved here in 2000.
Why did you choose to move to L.A., and what specifically attracted you to the city?
That is so funny because I feel like I have such a specific reason. I was living in New York
and working at Alleged Gallery. Aaron [Rose] wanted to close shop and set up shop in L.A.
So Aaron was like, “Brendan, what do you think about moving to L.A. and starting Alleged L.A.? ”
So it was like, “Okay. Let’s do this.” We went to look and totally fell in love with it.
I really love L.A. It’s fucking rad. It’s like the land of opportunity. You have more hours in the day.
There’s so much. Never-ending.
How did your interest in art begin? I think I was just always around it, growing up.
My mom and dad were both kind of art people. My mom went to school for textiles.
So she was totally into art, and then my dad was totally into art, like an anarchist, lawless dude.
They were both super into music too, and I think that I really just grew up around it.
I think that the first time that I realized that I had an interest in art personally, maybe it
came through skateboarding. Skateboarding, at that point, or still is, such potent graphic stuff.
And then I got into, through skating and music like I feel like so many people of the
same age bracket, just underground culture.
Why did you choose this specific medium? The music performance stuff I think, aside
from the fact that I’m hammy, I’m kind of comfortable in that context, which is weird because
I was so shy as a kid and I’m still kind of shy socially. But if I get on a stage, I’ve figured
out the trick, which everybody has to figure out if they’re going to do that, which is like you
just don’t care anymore. I think just something about the amount that you can deconstruct
something in front of an audience and really pull it apart and how weird and naked you can get
is so exciting. I think that you can pull it way more apart live in a performance context as
opposed to just on a record. That’s the challenge that I’m interested in right now. Everything
I do, I’m interested in having it be on some level aesthetically compelling, at least to me.
I’ve had some gallery performances where it’s like people will be really tense because they
don’t know where the thing starts or stops, and that’s a fun thing to be aware of and fuck with.
I play with humor a lot. A lot of times, I feel like I’m doing stand-up almost.
What is the correlation between Los Angeles and your artwork?
For me, it’s almost like the problem-solving thing. It’s like, I can make art here.
I can work here. Los Angeles is like space, time, stretch out.
If someone was blind and couldn’t see your work, tell me five words or phrases that you
would use to describe it to them: Crashing. Pulled-apart. Layered. Well, see, I could cheat,
though, because I could just play them the record. Wait… “It looks like the record.”
If you could have a soundtrack to accompany your life and work, what would it sound like?
I think it would be half of a Dinosaur Jr. song… Linda Rondstadt into Kenny Rogers’
The Gambler, into Willie Nelson’s Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys,
but like cut off 1/3 of a way through the song, and then some totally jazz music that
I don’t know who it is, that you can’t place it, but it’s sort of familiar, but you can’t figure it out.
Then some sort of amorphous 80’s alternative situation medley thing, with a heavy Cure
component, into Freak Scene by Dinosaur Jr., which then is like really abruptly cut off by the
entire Storm and Stress album, which is the single thing that changed my life.
And then some fucking Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush, which is so corny, but not corny,
because that’s a heavy song. It’s so good. But it’s tough because I don’t want to reduce it to
pop culture moments. I’ll just say this. I think anybody that would put Kate Bush on their list
would kind of also be irritated if anyone else put Kate Bush on their thing, especially right now,
because Kate Bush is the follow-up to the hipster Morrissey thing.
Anyway, then something triumphant… Oh, into Aphex Twin.
Do you feel that there is a consistent message in your work? If so, what is it?
I don’t think it’s a consistent message. I would like to think it’s more dynamic than that…
that there’s a consistent grappling, or a consistent striving to find it.
A consistent introspection or a consistent pulling apart of it.
What are your thoughts and perceptions on the L.A. art scene?
I think that it’s really neat, and I think that it’s getting neater.
I don’t want every answer to be like N.Y. vs. L.A., or whatever, but living in New York
for a while and then living in L.A., it’s hard to not make that comparison.
I feel so psyched for L.A., and I feel so psyched for all the strides.
I think it’s been really progressive. It’s been moving in such a rad way,
and I just want to celebrate that.
Who or what is your biggest influence? The Storm and Stress record that came out in 1997.
Favorite fashion designer(s): Patrik Ervell. Hands down.
Favorite historical artwork: Unpainted Sculpture by Charles Ray. I saw it in high school,
which is why I call it historical.
Favorite contemporary artwork: That Ryan Trecartin movie, I-Be AREA. I really am totally
on the Wade Guyton, and Christopher Wool is singularly my favorite artist, by far.
Favorite instigator or rabble-rouser (artistic or otherwise): In spite of the fact that she’s been
kind of quiet for the last few years… Wynn Greenwood of Tracy & the Plastics.
She roused my rabble. Watching her rouse other rabble.
Favorite things in Los Angeles: Driving on the freeway at night listening to music in the dark.
Also, Cinnamon restaurant on Figueroa. It’s a vegetarian Mexican place.
What are you looking forward to in the future? Getting married.
_ _ _
ALEJANDRO GEHRY
Full Name: My full name with both of my middle names included is
Alejandro Carlos Isaac Gehry, but Alejandro Gehry works.
Age: I’m 32.
Occupation: I’m a painter, and I teach art.
I teach illustration to high school kids and painting to teenagers.
Astrological Sign: I’m an Aries. My birthday is April 13th.
Where did you grow up? Santa Monica, California.
How long have you lived in Los Angeles? I grew up here
and moved away when I was 17. I started university. I was in New York
for about 4 years after that, so I was gone for about 8 years, and then I moved back
here in 2002. I’ve been here since.
Why did you choose to stay in L.A., and what specifically attracted you to the city?
It was home, and because I was in New York for a while and witnessed the 11th –
I saw the tower fall in front of me, I saw people jumping out of the windows –
the economy took such a nosedive at that point, and because I had stopped working in advertising
and I was trying to do freelance illustration work and work on my own paintings at the same time,
I couldn’t stay there anymore. It was just too much. I had to get out. So I decided to come back home,
back to L.A. at that point. Just because I needed to be close to my family, I think. What attracted
me about it also was I think I was trying to find a voice – and I’m still trying to find a voice – with my work.
I felt like L.A. was a good place. It would give me the time and the space to do that
without feeling the constant pressures that you have in New York.
How did your interest in art begin? Part of it had to do with my dad.
He could tell that I was very visually oriented. Along with encouraging me to draw and paint,
we’d look through a different art book every weekend. Before I could turn on cartoons
on Saturday morning, I had to go and sit and look through a different art book. When I got to
know different artists and their works, then just being exposed to a lot of California artists
out here, as well, really helped push me in that direction. I grew up with Billy Al Bankston,
Charles Arnoldi, Larry Bell, Peter Alexander, all these guys… going to their openings,
and Ed Moses being around the house, being friends with both my folks.
Why did you choose this specific medium?
My brother’s the one that’s following my dad. I’d studied illustration at school,
and they make you do a little bit of everything in illustration. The one that I really
wasn’t doing well in was the painting class. There was something about it I wasn’t quite getting.
After school, I had the opportunity to do the murals for the Issey Miyake store in Tribeca,
the flagship store for the opening. I wanted to paint it, but I didn’t really have the time,
so it was treated like a wallpaper, and I was going to go in and paint on top of it. I think
seeing my work at a scale like that… That’s when I realized that I wanted to paint versus doing
illustration work or comic book work and editorial stuff. Some people say, “You paint like an illustrator.”
I’m like, “Alright.”
What is the correlation between Los Angeles and your artwork?
I don’t know if there is any, because a lot of it sort of comes from my personal sense of style,
which is a mix of L.A. and New York. I have that little bit of late ‘70s, early ‘80s aesthetic in there.
That’s Darby Crash and a lot of other musical influences… As far as L.A. as a city on its own,
I don’t know. It’s not like Ed Ruscha, who uses the Hollywood sign and uses icons from L.A. in his work.
I just paint people.
If someone was blind and couldn’t see your work, tell me five words or phrases
that you would use to describe it to them: Me being me and having
my mom’s sort of ability to break things down very frankly, I would say something like,
“Oh, it’s people making out, or it’s two people fucking”.
I would try to describe the colors a little bit too, especially because my palette is kind of vibrant.
If you could have a soundtrack to accompany your life and work, what would it sound like?
That’s interesting, because there are so many ups and downs. Just an experience
of my life would be very much like Beethoven’s 9th, and then other parts, like RISD,
would be like The Velvet Underground. It’d be very sort of eclectic, that’s for sure.
Do you feel that there is a consistent message in your work? If so, what is it?
The subject matter is consistent. When I started painting, I figured I’d pick
something I wouldn’t get sick of. I feel like part of the reason I did all the peek-a-boo
boxes was using the old method of having a peep show: the guys would put the quarter
in, see the little show, and then hopefully go home and hang out with their wives.
If I can encourage some kind of spark in people like that, I think it’ll make them smile.
I think it’s sort of make love, not war. That whole thing. I don’t like saying that I’m
trying to push a message. I think you get what you get out of it.
What are your thoughts and perceptions on the L.A. art scene?
Here, I feel like everyone creates their own pace. There isn’t this enormous rush to
constantly compete or to get things done, which is nice, but I do like that there
are a lot more galleries popping up. My only problem is actually getting out to more
and more openings. It’s difficult because L.A.’s so spread out, whereas New York…
Who or what is your biggest influence? My dad is a huge influence,
but it’s what he sort of exposed me to as a kid, and then, just life, just seeing things…
I love seeing other people’s work, going to shows and seeing these volumes of work,
or going to someone’s studio and seeing everything that they’re working on always
pushes me to do more myself. Different artists, different friends of my dad as well…
Billy Al Bankston’s been great, and Peter Alexander’s been great too.
Favorite fashion designer(s): I like Thierry Mugler a lot.
Margiela a lot. Dior Homme when Hedi Slimane was there, he did some awesome stuff.
I always appreciate Galliano and McQueen.
Favorite historical artwork: The cave paintings in Spain.
I also love seeing sketches, both Donatello’s and Michelangelo’s,
how they’re working from anatomy and cadavers and pulling muscles of the
arm apart to see how everything’s connected and how everything works.
Favorite contemporary artwork: Egon Schiele, Gustav Klimt,
a lot of the German and Austrian expressionist work. But even more contemporary,
Richard Prince, Jenny Saville, Raymond Pettibon… especially because he mixes
comic book black and white stuff with his quotes, which are just hilarious.
And Ghada Ahmer. I love her stuff as well.
Favorite instigator or rabble-rouser (artistic or otherwise):
Non-artwise, I’d go for my mom and my brother.
Favorite things in Los Angeles: Sushi at the Hump over at the Santa Monica airport,
right when it’s sunset, and watching the planes come in and land. Shima restaurant on Abbot Kinney.
The Paul Smith store on Melrose. Pink’s Hot Dogs at 3 am and waiting in line, then waking up the next
morning and going, “Oh, what the fuck? I ate a Pink’s hot dog! What did I do?” I love going to the El Rey
to see shows when there’s a good show to see. Also, La Cita, Thursday and Friday nights,
is a lot of fun.
What are you looking forward to in the future?
I’d like to get something out of what I’m doing. I still feel like I need to go back to school
and finish that up. Like I need that additional push or just to have another go,
especially if I want to be teaching, or if I really enjoy it. It’d be nice to sort of have that
in my arsenal to be able to get the credentials and just do it if I need to.
_ _ _
Full Name: Oliver Graham Arms
Age: 38
Occupation: I’m a painter. An artist.
Astrological Sign: I’m the best one… Aquarius.
Where did you grow up? San Francisco, Colorado, Alabama, and Washington D.C., but reverse of that.
How long have you lived in Los Angeles? 8 years
Why did you choose to move to L.A., and what specifically attracted you to the city?
The 16 years I spent in San Francisco indoctrinated me into drugs, more drugs and rejections
from every gallery up there, so I quit doing drugs. I moved down here at age 31 working for a
moving company, and I had myself like a little five-year plan about how I was going to get a show.
This city has been so good to me. It’s absurd how quickly I was able to acclimate myself to the
L.A. art scene, and I think within two years I was making a living as a painter.
How did your interest in art begin? I have been painting since I was 2 years old,
and I think probably two events were a catalyst in driving me towards the understanding that this is
what I wanted to do. Picasso died in ’73, so when I was like 3, my mom took me to a Picasso retrospective,
and I don’t remember anything about the retrospective except that the museum
had printed his name like huge, and you know how he underlines his name? When I was 3,
my impression was like, “Wow! Being an artist must be really important! He underlines his name!”
Then, when I was 13 or 14, I was in Washington D.C., and I was at the National Gallery, and I saw
that painting Barge by Rauschenberg and it literally just floored me. It was just one of the few times
in my life where it was not only pivotal in my understanding of visual language, but just as a human
being period, that a person was able to concentrate that much understanding into a distillation.
Why did you choose this specific medium? I had a teacher in maybe 5th or 6th grade.
In school, they wouldn’t let students use oil paint, so somebody mistakenly bought like $500 worth of oil paints,
and the parents were like, “Our kids can’t use oil paints. It’ll get everywhere!” So this guy recognized
that I seemed to have a proclivity towards painting, so he gave me like $500 worth of oil paint when
I was in 5th or 6th grade. I had no idea what to do with it. I didn’t even know what acrylic was.
Paint was paint was paint. So I actually started with oils, and I always liked the sort of organic quality of it.
I liked the way it smelled. It was a very sort of tactile medium in painting. Just working things across the
canvas like that just struck the right chord.
What is the correlation between Los Angeles and your artwork?
The correlation, the reason I love Los Angeles, just period, let alone for art, is there is a certain
audacity and permissiveness in this city that has both fantastic and horrific ramifications.
In the fantastic sense, the sort of iconoclastic approach to just throw yourself in and do it.
The idea that everybody pursues what “their dream” is. I suspect for many, many people who come here,
it turns out very negative, because they’re not aware of the sort of bureaucratic and
institutional opposition they’ll meet. I like it because it’s a city that is just, well,
I mean, it’s like most cities, the inundation of information and the stimulus is so pervasive
that I deal with that specifically in my work, although not directly related to Los Angeles,
but information period. Information as a pollutant.
If someone was blind and couldn’t see your work, tell me five words or phrases
that you would use to describe it to them: I do not know. That’s only four words.
“Oh, I don’t know man.”
If you could have a soundtrack to accompany your life and work, what would it sound like?
I recently found this recording of these monks, but the beauty of it is, their musical director and
everybody in the company of monks – they do chanting – not a single one of them has musical talent.
It’s actually quite brilliant. So they do these hymns, and they’re always off key… and nobody bothers
to try to correct them. They don’t have the money to bring in somebody who would whip them into shape.
So, there’s something almost touching about it because it doesn’t stop them.
Do you feel that there is a consistent message in your work? If so, what is it?
There is a consistent message in my work. It’s sort of referencing back to what we were talking about earlier,
which is information as pollutant. You don’t actually need probably 95% of the information that
you’re exposed to on a given day. Some people open themselves up to it.
I think it’s an imposition, ultimately… What I’m doing is taking the language of Abstract Expressionism,
and because I do layers and layers and sand them down… I’m actually eradicating the response
to too much information. I’m eradicating the presence of me as an artist, and what I’m left with is
an inundation because of so many layers sanded down, an inundation that in some
pale fashion tries to compete, in terms of information overload, back to the thing that stimulated it.
What are your thoughts and perceptions on the L.A. art scene?
I adore, love and worship it. It’s so inspiring that you can go out and the art scene here is just phenomenal.
That’s the only thing I can say. It’s fantastic. I love it.
Who or what is your biggest influence?
Well, aside from the obvious artistic influences like the Abstract Expressionists…
I saw this documentary on these four guys who were all Bigfoot hunters.
They all grew up together in the ‘50s and ‘60s, and they all worked together at finding Bigfoot,
and they all lived in the Northwest, and now they’re all in their 80s, and they all hate each other.
But the interesting thing is not Bigfoot – any mythological figure is inconsequential to me –
but what is interesting is that these four guys, you can see that they realize that they’re going
to go to their graves having never seen the thing that they’ve committed to. That’s painting,
in a nutshell. That’s what influences me. Didn’t Francis Bacon say, “You can’t really talk about
painting. You can only talk around it.”? I think it’s the same sort of concept. For me, there’s a
certain sort of totality to that, and that influences me a lot. The pursuit of articulation where
there is no exoneration of that articulation.
Favorite fashion designer(s): Dries Van Noten.
Favorite historical artwork: Anselm Kiefer has a painting called
The Divine Being which is just jaw dropping to me.
Favorite contemporary artwork: Well, Gerhard Richter and
[Anselm] Kiefer, that kind of covers all that.
Favorite instigator or rabble-rouser (artistic or otherwise):
My whole thing is if somebody is a rabble-rouser or an instigator, whatever they’re doing
gets co-opted so fast it becomes impotent. I can’t keep up with trying to like
somebody who’s an instigator. You see an instigator, and everything is suspect,
because where can you go with the concept of notoriety? If you’re an instigator,
and you get notoriety, then that generally equates celebrity, which is like the most addictive…
There’s already pervasive narcissism in our society, so rabble-rousers, it’s like the faster
they’re appropriated… Think of somebody like Abby Hoffman. Somebody like that could
never exist in today’s society. A friend of mine who’s a director told me a story.
He was on a plane in the ‘80s with that guy Al Lewis from The Munsters. He was a total
left-wing activist for years. So they were sitting on a plane right behind Henry Kissinger and two security guys,
and really loudly Al Lewis would go, “Hey, you see who’s sitting in the seat in front of us?”
And then he’d punch Kissinger’s seat. It was a cross-country flight. He’d stand up and he’d go,
“I bet you put a lot of those names on that wall, didn’t you?” And then he’d sit back down.
For six hours. Just relentlessly attacking Kissinger. I think that’s ballsy. It could never happen today.
I know, national security or whatever. I’m really suspect about instigators,
but I have to say, I hope that there are people out there who are not seeking celebrity through instigation.
Favorite things in Los Angeles: I love walking in the L.A. River.
I like Griffith Park, alone. Just to be able to go up there, and there’s never anybody up there.
You get these phenomenal views. And driving, of course… my old car.
What are you looking forward to in the future? I am just looking forward to the future,
period. It will be very interesting. See how humanity deals with our place in history right now.
_ _ _

KAZ OSHIRO
Full Name: Well, my legal name is Yas Kaz Oshiro.
Age: I’m 41.
Occupation: I’m an artist, but when I started,
I really didn’t mean to become an artist, because I thought it was impossible to make a living out of making art.
Astrological Sign: Gemini.
Where did you grow up? I was born and I grew up in Japan. I’m originally from Okinawa. When I was born, Okinawa was still occupied by the United States, so it wasn’t really Japan at the time. It was under American occupation.
How long have you lived in Los Angeles? I came here in 1986.
Why did you choose to move to L.A., and what specifically attracted you to the city?
The West Coast was closer… across the Pacific Ocean from Japan, and L.A. was one
of the major cities on the West Coast. That might be the biggest reason, and at the time,
I really wanted to see California.
How did your interest in art begin? Since I was a kid.
As far as I remember… I can’t even recall how far. First of all, when I was a kid,
I wanted to become a cartoonist or illustrator, but when I started going to
school here, I thought it was impossible to make money out of art, and I started to take
architecture as my major. Then I wasn’t sure. I still liked making things, so eventually
art became my major at school. I always think about the space and the object.
Why did you choose this specific medium? I’ve always admired pure painters
like de Kooning, Jackson Pollock, or any geometric abstractionist like Ellsworth Kelly…
I’ve always loved Frank Stella’s work. There’s something pure about a canvas and a paintbrush.
In one stroke, it becomes your signature. You can’t really replace that kind of visual sense with
other mediums. So I started to solve my own painter’s problem, in a sense. One of the major
reasons was this self-consciousness or this feeling about… I love making artwork,
but when it comes to showing to other people, there’s self-consciousness.
I wanted to kind of make a painting that disappears, or something really passive,
something that kind of blends into the environment… people don’t notice it. That’s how
I started making three-dimensional objects that sit on the floor. Then I don’t
have to worry about proper spacing in between paintings or the lighting situation.
But at least I’m achieving my goal, which is to physically make a painting.
What is the correlation between Los Angeles and your artwork?
Maybe sensibility-wise, I get a lot of inspiration from L.A. artists, like Ed Ruscha.
I can’t really explain what the significance of Los Angeles is, but I’m thinking it’s kind of a dry attitude.
Ed Ruscha once said he really liked Los Angeles because of the façades of the buildings –
it kind of shows the emptiness. To me, his art really represents L.A..
I think I’m really influenced by his view of Los Angeles.
If someone was blind and couldn’t see your work, tell me five words or phrases
that you would use to describe it to them: “Touch it and you break it.”
That means that they think it’s a real thing. I can’t get a better compliment than that.
Actually, it really happens at my shows sometimes. I set up a trash bin made out of canvas,
and people started to throw trash in it. The people at the gallery were going crazy telling people,
“This is art. Don’t touch it.” It’s a really snobbish idea. If they spill wine,
I can always add wine as one of the mediums, too.
If you could have a soundtrack to accompany your life and work, what would it sound like?
I’ve always liked the idea of noise as a music. More like an ambient idea.
That’s another thing I’m really thinking about when I make work. My work is like environmental noise –
the cabinets, fridge, or the amplifier sitting on the floor. So it’s like noise outside, cars going by…
It’s the same thing. So just the environmental noise would be the soundtrack.
Do you feel that there is a consistent message in your work? If so, what is it?
To me, well, the most important thing is to see things as they are, in a sense. That’s how I think.
So in my work, the bottom line is the trash bin needs to look like a trash bin, or a
cabinet should look like a cabinet. This is really a difficult thing to explain, but it really comes from Zen.
See things as they are, nothing more or less. Just like environmental noise that we were talking about.
We should pay attention… We might find some kind of a universe there.
What are your thoughts and perceptions on the L.A. art scene?
I think overall it’s great because a lot of artists before us stayed here and made great art.
That has made Los Angeles one of the art capitals in America. At the time, I know that
there was no market or anything, but a lot of artists decided to stay here and live here
and work in the ‘50s and ‘60s. In the ‘80s, Mike Kelley, people like that… I appreciate that
a lot of artists decided to stay here even though they didn’t have a market twenty years ago.
Who or what is your biggest influence? Definitely, my parents and family,
but I will say artists like John Cage or Ed Ruscha. To me, I respect anyone that is just
devoting their life to making art.
Favorite fashion designer(s): I love Margiela.
Favorite historical artwork: I think any religious architecture.
Churches and temples. It’s a spiritual experience, and I think it’s the most powerful art I’ve ever encountered.
Favorite contemporary artwork: John Cage’s 4’33”
Favorite instigator or rabble-rouser (artistic or otherwise): To me, Jeff Koons.
I really like him, but unfortunately he pisses a lot of people off.
Favorite things in Los Angeles: The climate is one of the good things.
I like driving a car, so it’s a good place. The people are really nice. People make the city, so overall,
I’ve found that’s one of the best things.
What are you looking forward to in the future?
I’m hoping I’ll be able to continue making art. Other than that, I’m hoping the world becomes a better place,
but that’s something out of my control, so all I can do is make art and see what happens.
_ _ _
Full Name: My full name is Eddie Joseph Ruscha V.
Age: I’m pushing 40. I’m in my late 30s.
Occupation: Bohemian.
Astrological Sign: Sagittarius. I don’t know the house things and all that.
Does it matter?
Where did you grow up? Born and raised here in Los Angeles.
Why did you choose to stay in L.A., and what specifically attracted you to the city?
Mostly projects that I was in kept me here. I’ve done a lot of traveling of course,
but never moved anywhere. I always liked L.A. because it was a place that never actually
completely blossomed. It’s like the buildings and architecture and things: it just keeps staying a
secret almost, and that’s just something I’ve always liked about it. It always feels like you’re
not part of some heavy history. But I can see why it’s difficult for people to travel here, if they
don’t know people and that type of stuff. Some people don’t like driving, of course. I like driving,
because it’s the best place to listen to music. In a car. It’s better than anything else.
How did your interest in art begin? Boy, that’s a hard one to know
because it was always there, from the very beginning. People would say I would just always
be drawing by myself in my own world.
Why did you choose this specific medium? Drawing was always something
that was really easy because you can always grab a piece of paper anywhere so it’s really immediate
and pleasing in that way. Music, I’ve just always been obsessed with music,
so it was eventually going to be something that I wanted to make.
What is the correlation between Los Angeles and your artwork? Maybe it’s something
I’m not completely aware of, because I’m always trying to kind of push things into non-reality realms,
so I don’t know how it totally applies, but it probably does in some way.
If someone was blind and couldn’t see your work, tell me five words or phrases that you would use to describe it to them: Otherworldly. Humorous. Insane. Rad. Starbucks.
No… no… not Starbucks. Philosophical.
If you could have a soundtrack to accompany your life and work, what would it sound like?
A drum machine through a space echo.
Do you feel that there is a consistent message in your work? If so, what is it?
I don’t think so. I like to constantly confound the last thing that I did. Confound myself.
What are your thoughts and perceptions on the L.A. art scene? I think it’s really good.
I think there’s really interesting stuff happening here. To me, I find that, I’m not sure if it’s more interesting,
but it seems like a lot of people from other places are kind of taking essences of what’s going on,
or what’s happening, in Los Angeles and using it in a way, but it’s hard to pin down what it is.
Who or what is your biggest influence? Being under the influence.
Favorite fashion designer(s): Kensington. I used to collect their shirts a long time ago.
I don’t know if they’re still around or not. And Fiorucci.
Favorite historical artwork: The pyramids.
Favorite contemporary artwork: Tom Friedman.
Favorite instigator or rabble-rouser (artistic or otherwise): Luis Buñuel.
Favorite things in Los Angeles: My family.
What are you looking forward to in the future? Jetpacks and teleportation devices…
I’d like to go to another planet, but it’s just not happening fast enough. I don’t think it’s going to happen.
But maybe for my kids, so that would be cool.
_ _ _

CHRISTOPH SCHMIDBERGER
Full Name: Christoph Schmidberger.
Age: 35, I think. Time goes by so quickly.
Occupation: Painter.
Astrological Sign: Aquarius. The 7th of February, 1974.
Where did you grow up? That’s, for some people easy to say, but,
for me, it’s a little difficult because I was born in Eisenerz [Austria], which is a mining town.
Then we moved to another town, which is called Leoben. When I was ten,
I was already in boarding school. So I spent all my life in other places, actually,
and I spent my whole life until I grew up in boarding schools in other cities.
I came home on the weekends. So, I don’t know where I grew up.
When I go home now to Austria, I go to Hieflau, a little town, village.
My parents chose to live in the absolute countryside, and I was sent to the cities.
How long have you lived in Los Angeles? I moved to New York in 2004, and in 2005,
in February, I came to LA.
Why did you choose to move to (or stay in) L.A., and what specifically attracted you to the city?
I came out to L.A. in general because I had a show, and then the grass was so green.
I flew back [to New York] and turned back within 14 days.
How did your interest in art begin? I can’t do anything else.
I was painting and drawing and doing these things like this since kindergarten.
It was like there was nothing left to do. I was not interested in doing anything else except draw.
So I did draw. I just kept doing it. I was not like pushed from the parents like a dancer or a pianist.
Absolutely not. At the end time, when I was finished with all my schools, there was
nothing really left to do other than that, because this is the only thing I was, like, good in.
Other people have other talents. I didn’t see any of those.
Why did you choose this specific medium? Because I went to school,
to university, to become a painter. I didn’t even ask myself, because I did not do anything else.
I did not take photos. I was doing drawings and things, but just for me. I destroyed them afterwards.
In Vienna, 800 people are applying there and they chose me as one out of 3.
Then I still was not sure to become a painter because it was a little weird for me.
Especially in Austria, you can’t live on that. I was shocked by my decision, actually.
I’ve really become a painter. I couldn’t believe it.
What is the correlation between Los Angeles and your artwork?
Los Angeles is perfect for me because, compared to New York, everything I want in my work
is available here at any time. Perfect weather. This is why the film industry came here.
You have all these people that like to be photographed here. Things like that.
Or you have endless houses and choices of pools and gardens. You even have New York scenery
if you need it. Then you have the oceans, the hills, endless. Continual. And always sun.
The only thing you don’t have is snow, but you can even have that in wintertime when you drive
to the mountains. You see, everything is possible here, and so it is for me. It’s amazing.
There’s a cemetery, Forest Lawn, and suddenly it looks like in Cambridge [England].
There’s even Gothic architecture.
If you could have a soundtrack to accompany your life and work, what would it sound like?
It’s so funny because I was thinking about – I mean, I cannot answer that really,
because I am not a musician – but I was thinking about this the other day: would you live your life
like everybody lives their life and have a soundtrack constantly behind you like you’re in a movie?
Imagine there’s something you do in the evening, you go around the corner, and you have
like this creepy music, and then you have fun and it’s like fun music, and then in your kitchen,
it’s like, “mm, mm.” Like whistle while you work. I’m so not musical. I don’t really play music for
myself so I don’t know. It would be silent, I guess. Yeah, since I think about it, it would be silence.
What are your thoughts and perceptions on the L.A. art scene?
(whispers) I don’t know what’s going on. I’m not walking around and looking
at what other people are doing. I never did that. And then carry it into my work?
Maybe I should do it. Yeah, but it’s dangerous that it stops and it’s like a cul de sac.
But whatever, I never thought about it. I’m busy the whole day. How could I do that?
Especially, this is the part which is not so good in L.A., because the distances
are so big, and if I go to Culver City to an opening, the question is how much energy
I have left. Look for parking and then run around? I did do this in New York. I have to admit.
I did go to openings. Here, it’s really hard.
Who or what is your biggest influence? Hmm. Do you see any influences?
Almost like fashion photography. But also not. I like Baroque. Baroque has a religious aspect
we don’t have nowadays. I like it when I can produce a work that has many layers, and then you’re
already lucky when you can do that. It’s not always the case. When it’s the case, I like it especially.
Two things at once: profane and religious at the same time.
Favorite fashion designer(s): I like Dior Homme. I like Vivienne Westwood.
If you had come to me ten years earlier, I would have had a long list.
Actually, I buy designers, but not that often anymore because I found out it doesn’t make you prettier.
Favorite historical artwork: I like Baroque, and I like Baromini and Bernini and
all those artists. I like even more architecture than painting. I think like children have a favorite thing,
but when you grow older, there’s more, there’s so much. It changes by the moment
Favorite contemporary artwork: Jeff Koons’ Rabbit.
Favorite instigator or rabble-rouser (artistic or otherwise):
I don’t even understand the word. Troublemaker? People I look up to give their life for other people.
I think this is very interesting to me and it makes me afraid.
It makes me afraid if I can actually hold up to this.
Favorite things in Los Angeles: I like Griffith Park.
I like to go in the Hollywood Hills and I like really to walk there. That’s the reason why I chose this location.
You can walk around. This is probably because I come from Austria. I chose this location
on the internet because it was close to Griffith Park. It should be close to rocks or something,
maybe the house should be built on rocks so it doesn’t shake so much. Because I knew that in
Santa Monica it was like all sand. I’m not a fan of the beach so much, so that’s why I live here.
What are you looking forward to in the future?
This is where the difference actually also comes up. I live actually from day to day.
I’m not a fan of the future. You should be in the present, because I can be dead in the
evening after this interview, so I don’t know. The future has no meaning to me.
Like the past.
_ _ _
Full Name: Our full name is Simmons and Burke.
Age: 51. No, it’s not total. It’s 25 ½. Simmons & Burke
is actually like 2 years old, because it’s kind of a newer thing. But we’ll go with 25 ½.
Occupation: That’s a tough one. So many things come to mind.
Business. Salesperson. A business salesperson? Wholesale supply?
You say an “artist”, you’re like that pretentious fuck who doesn’t do anything,
and then you say, well… Rapper? Hustler? Performer? I’m going to say “artist.”
Astrological Sign: Libra. Virgo/Libra cusp.
Where did you grow up? Iowa. North Carolina.
How long have you lived in Los Angeles? A year and two months.
Why did you choose to move to L.A., and what specifically attracted you to the city?
I was going to bring up our take-over plan. We really wanted to get into the bellboy business,
and there are more bellboys here than in any other American city. Really, I think the reason is Kim Light.
But it was like New York or L.A., we didn’t have that much money, we got an offer here,
it’s got a good art scene, you can afford to live here as an artist, you can get space. I think another
attractive thing about Los Angeles is that so much of the art world has been forgotten about to the
masses of people because of how amazing the entertainment industry is, and if you’re an artist
and you consider yourself a fine artist and in the fine art scene and live in Hollywood –
movie capital of the world – you can utilize that. You can jump on that. It’s exciting.
We shouldn’t have said all that. We should have said Muscle Beach is why we came to Los Angeles.
How did your interest in art begin? Wow, it’s such a hard, complicated web
to discern an actual beginning point. There are a lot of factors. For me, personally,
when I got into art and music – I was doing it as long as I can remember,
but to pinpoint one moment is impossible. Where I am now, there are so many different inputs
that led to my decisions and drive to do it full-time, to make a career out of it.
We started doing projects together and screwing around. We weren’t really thinking
about making money. We weren’t thinking about building a career. We were both in school
and excited to work with each other. So the path that led us to where we are now is also
kind of complicated. A lot of it’s just audience reception. The things we were doing
together were very well received. As we started to work with each other more and more,
our ability to work with each other and the way that we allow each other to work
individually on our projects is just a great tension and I think the results of it are really good.
We each make the other person make better work, if that makes sense.
Why did you choose this specific medium?
Because all digital art sucks, for the most part.
It’s really hard to separate technology from a good piece of art, even video art.
The way you present the artwork with new technology, it becomes like,
“Ooh, what computer did you use to make that?” I start to think about those things.
I think to try to paint with the computer or for Andy to use everything
that he’s learned about percussion or going through music history, or all this,
to try to do it through a computer, and to try to find that kind of intimacy that
you can have with paintbrushes, or that intimacy or delicacy that you can
play with drum sticks, or aggression for that matter, to try to find that balance
with a computer, I think, is really difficult, but exciting. I think that collage and cut
and paste style is at the heart of our culture right now. To ground it in traditional
art history and to ground it in even compositions that resemble like famous
Baroque paintings or even like with music, to ground it, I think, is important and fun.
At this point, we care about the issues of copyright, and are glad to be working
in a way that might inspire people and in a way that could eventually change the
laws so that as Americans we could have an incredibly wealthy public domain,
but at the end of the day, this is just what we do. You know whose role that is, right?
Someone like Lawrence Lessig, like a lawyer who’s all about trying to change copyright,
and then our role is to make the work, and he should use the work to make his argument.
There’s no way that either of us could ever know as much about the law as he
knows one hung-over Sunday morning. He’s a real inspiration. His whole end of the
argument is it’s all about children. It’s all about children! What Lawrence Lessig points
out is that it’s so corrupting to society to tell these kids that they’re breaking the law.
The same way a kid would play with markers… To say that they’re criminals is so
corrupting to society. Sorry, we get a little passionate.
What is the correlation between Los Angeles and your artwork?
I think when you’re an outsider to Los Angeles, you tend to think of it as a shitty place.
I know that I did. More and more, it’s becoming about kind of the superficial,
being in Los Angeles, pop culture, having all of those things in our art, being able to see it
but still be distanced downtown. Yeah, and we use a lot of paparazzi photos.
To have seen somebody get bombarded with paparazzi… There’s a lot of energy there
that’s behind this thing that we just kind of take for surface value. With such a mass amount
of media in our pieces, we get lost with what we’ve put in because it’s too much.
If I go back and listen to a piece that we made six months ago, I’ll be like,
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that sound. It’s hilarious.” I think for Los Angeles, it’s similar to
being around here because you just drive around and there are so many billboards,
so many advertisements coming at you at every angle, and I think it’s really highlighted here.
You get detached. Another thing I was going to throw in real quick about there are
a lot of beautiful things about this place, but it’s also fucking disgusting.
That kind of difference: being able to drive and see something like Beverly Hills and
then drive not that far and see something like Skid Row… Granted, there are some
miles between them, but they’re in one city. To be able to be in one space that has all that.
If someone was blind and couldn’t see your work, tell me five words or
phrases that you would use to describe it to them: “Oh you mad cuz I’m stylin’ on you?”
No, you can’t say that. “Here are some headphones. Do whatever you want to do with this.”
If you could have a soundtrack to accompany your life and work, what would it sound like?
Mike Jones (simultaneous), preferably with DJ Screw. We would have him make a new song every
single day for the rest of our lives.
What are your thoughts and perceptions on the L.A. art scene?
I think it’s doing pretty good. I’m pretty happy to be a part of it. Yeah. I think the way that it
functions is great. I like the people here. I really like being around it and being a part of it.
Who or what is your biggest influence? You know what Notorious B.I.G. said
when he got asked that question? He was like, “Ain’t nobody really influenced me.” I love that shit.
That’s such a good line. It’s like so many people have influenced us that it’s kind of
difficult to drop names. The last time we got asked that, we gave a list that was probably
like a hundred things that included everything from iced coffee to Mike Jones to Hieronymus Bosch
and Max Ernst, Lacan and the Teletubbies. I’d have to talk about John Cage as a composer
that has influenced me, and I’m not trying to make music like John Cage, but I can’t lie and
say that I have not been affected in my decision-making processes without learning a lot
about him in school. We often forget this, but it’s a major influence: surrealism. I don’t
know why we forget it. Surrealism’s a huge, huge factor.
Favorite fashion designer(s): Red Wing shoes. We shouldn’t give APC the credit,
but I like APC jeans. Hanes t-shirts. Will Watkins, amazing clothing designer.
He made this jean jacket. He found this jean jacket, sewed that on the back, sewed a hoodie on the inside…
Favorite historical artwork: Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, that Hans Holbein The Younger,
The Ambassadors. That’s just such a brilliant painting.
Favorite contemporary artwork: What was that shit machine? [Cloaca by Wim Delvoye]
It did what your stomach does. It was like breathtaking when you would see it because it was this giant,
industrial-looking thing, and then at the other end it was just shitting out these turds.
This may seem off, but I’ve also always been a sucker for Cy Twombly.
The way that he handles paint… Because you look at what we make, and
Cy Twombly is probably the farthest thing.
Favorite instigator or rabble-rouser (artistic or otherwise): Lawrence Lessig.
Favorite things in Los Angeles: Sushi Gen, definitely. Santee Alley.
Nah, I mean, it’s cool. I don’t really have the impulse to go to Santee Alley as often as I have to go to Sushi Gen.
What are you looking forward to in the future? To be able to go back in time.
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Tags: People



