Report on the "California Video" Preview Opening

Bambino and I are back in New York, having too much to do back home to enjoy L.A.'s fine weather for more than a few days. We did get to the beach for a lovely sunset and, of course, had the pleasure of catching up with Cathy at the opening of "California Video." That's Cathy to the right, doing her "I'm pretending you're not taking my picture" pose. :-)

As I don't know how to review exhibitions I only see at an opening reception (and with time-based work in particular, given my wine-induced attention deficit disorder, that would impossible for me), I'll keep my summary to some logistical observations and gossip highlights. For a more in-depth and remarkably fast review of the exhibition, check out Michael Buitron's take on Leap Into the Void.

My initial impressions of the exhibition, though, include the fact that it's beautifully designed. As we're about to install a 7-video exhibition in our space, I was particularly interested in seeing how they solved certain problems. In talking with the curator of the exhibition, Glenn Phillips (Senior Project Specialist at the Getty Research Institute [that's him above with the red tie]), I learned that they had two competing goals with the installation design: presenting each video in so that its particular characteristics were accessible and creating a flow and sequence that facilitated seeing how the works "talked" with one another. Therefore, works with narratives were presented so that the viewer could relax and hear the story, and those that are more ambient were installed to maximize that experience, all the while considering the dialog between and among the works. I was taking ample mental notes through our conversation.

To the right, soaking up the glamor and awesome spread at the reception, are Cathy, yours truly, and Cathy's delightful mom and brother. Shortly after this photo was snapped, I talked briefly with the wonderfully relaxed and pleasant Getty Director, Michael Brand, who told me that, given the nature of much of the work, it was important to the museum that they not over-produce the exhibition. He explained that this was something that can happen quite easily at an institution with as much funding as the Getty. I long for the day when I have to worry about that myself.

Among the other impressive decisions they've made for the exhibition is a bank of kiosks at which you can watch any of the videos in the exhibition. Complete with helpful categorizations and artist's bios, this research tool was incredibly well done. In fact, in his introduction to the massive and gorgeous catalog, Glenn Phillips explains the the exhibition is "envisioned as a reference tool." One of the other cool factors about the kiosks is that they're equipped to let you listen with your own head-set, limiting the odds you'll catch something nasty from a previous visitor (although, I have to admit, that as nice as this feature is, the number of Californians concerned about this was surprising to this New Yorker who can't imagine the germs on a headset come close to approaching those on the poles I touch daily on the subway).

Speaking of Californians, though, Bambino (that's him enjoying a snack and the breathtaking view from the Getty's plaza [you can't quite see it in this photo, I'm afraid]) and I met Michael and Angela, the two lovely owners of Wilshire Boulevard's SolwayJones Gallery, whose artist Jim Campbell had an awesome installation in the exhibition. They were incredibly nice to us and helped make our visit all the more enjoyable. Thanks guys!

UPDATE: You can see excerpts from many of the videos in the exhibition, including Cathy's, at this wonderful online resource the Getty's organized.