A High Time at LACMA

by generally bad at most things

On a not-so-recent trip to LA (6 months ago??), I decided to be “positive” and have a “fun,” “productive” day on my own. By positive, I mean drug-induced, and by fun and productive, I also mean drug-induced. Instead of taking just my usual Xanax, I took a bit of a painkiller as well. Usually, I’m at home when mixing pills. Needless to say, a trip on many levels ensued…

First off, no one told me LACMA was an adult jungle gym. So many stairs, so many floors, so many transitions from outside to inside. A plethora of colors and different buildings. Nowhere to fucking sit and chill. Basically, hell on earth for the high people there (I’m sure I wasn’t the only one). 

On display was Mary Corse’s A Survey in Light. Jesus fucking Christ. This would have been awesome if I was high on just weed. But the painkiller gave the piece a slightly nauseating, dizzying effect. However, through my daze (and maybe a bit because of it), I was able to appreciate the remarkable nature of Crose’s work. And now that I’m sober(ish), I’d like to share what I learned.

Corse’s work presented an array of textures and spatial interplay, which created an ethereal effect. Her highly minimal works truly captured the power of mediums as a study in their own right. The viewer’s relationship with each work changed depending on their vantage point. Light reflected differently, and shapes and textures took on new characteristics. In some pieces, the viewer becomes a part of the work, with their shadows being cast across the walls. This made me reminiscent of Rauchenberg’s white panels, which reflect different things depending on the audience, and John Cage’s “chance” musical compositions. These works convey the changing nature of artworks depending on their surroundings and the ever-evolving nature of art in general. 

Damn, right? Let’s keep in mind, though, that I was also high AF. While gazing upon some pieces, I was seeing double. I believe this was the intended effect, but it also made me want to puke. I got very lightheaded at one point but couldn’t leave the exhibition—it was so captivating. Toward the end of my tour, a security guard asked if I needed to sit down. Obviously, my physical failings were overpowering my artistic interests.

I sat, found a drinking fountain, and traversed back down the steps from the exhibition to the ground floor (literally just the outside ground). I felt like I had just descended from Mount Doom. I was exhausted. Like, what I did at the top was rewarding, but now I’m at the bottom of a literal wasteland (downtown LA or the destruction of Mordor – imagine whichever example you prefer). 

I got in an Uber and immediately fell asleep.

Mary Corse’s exhibition is no longer at LACMA. Sorry for the delay in the review, but I’ve been going through withdrawal (either from Corse’s reverential work or the painkillers, we will never know). You can catch her at the Pace Gallery in Hong Kong, Seoul, and New York, though! Have fun!