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Arriving at the River’s Edge: Curatorial
Trends in L.A.°
by reina alejandra prado
saldivar
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reina alejandra prado saldivar is a doctoral
student in the Program of American Studies and Ethnicity at
the University of Southern California. This essay is an excerpt
that explores current curatorial trends. The larger project
"Caught Between Aztlán and the River's Edge: Curatorial
Practices for a Multicultural L.A." engages in an analysis
of cross-cultural and inter-generational artistic dialogues,
as seen in the exhibitions Tierra Incógnita, Mixed Feelings,
and Boyle Heights:
The Power of Place. All these exhibitions took place at Plaza
de la Raza, USC Fisher Gallery, and the Japanese American
National Museum in 2002, respectively.
Prado’s dissertation project focuses on
queer and feminist cultural production by artists of color
working in Los Angeles between 1992-2002. This past spring,
Prado curated Tierra Incógnita (2002), an art exhibition featuring
six contemporary Southern California artists. She has also
co-published a chapbook of her poetry under the pen-name alejandra
ibarra, entitled Santa Perversa and Other Erotic Poems
(Calaca Press, 2001).
A recent series of art exhibitions
in Los Angeles, between 2000-02 confirm that museums privilege
particular Chicano / Latino art discourses as was seen at
the Santa Monica Museum, the Fowler Museum UCLA, and the
Los Angeles County Museum of Art. As an advocate for cultural
production by artists of minoritarian communities, I welcome
opportunities to view Latino visual art at these spaces, however,
the lack of diversity seen in these curatorial projects -
be it through an experimentation of mediums and artists featured
- has prompted a nagging question. Is there a breadth of
Latinidad presented in art exhibitions, or are the
same concepts and artists, being featured with no clear insight
by museum curators as to developing aesthetics seen in Chicano
art since it came onto the scene in 1974?
[1] Is that museums privilege particular identity
discourses, one in which Chicano art is caught in a perpetual
reflection on Aztlán?
Although this paper is excerpted
from “Caught Between Aztlán and the River’s Edge: Curatorial
Practices for a Multicultural L.A.” I am investigating methodological
approaches that derive from a process I call “textualizing
Latino museology,” which analyzes existent exhibition catalogues
of Chicano / Latino art in order to survey a curator(s)’s
conceptual approach to an exhibition. It also takes into
account that most of the critical discourse on Chicano art
is read in these texts serving as an educational tool post-exhibition
viewing. Moreover, to understand the importance of exhibition
programming since Chicano Art Resistance & Affirmation
(herein CARA, 1990), I offer suggestions to curatorial practices
that take into account the complexities of this community’s
art. By focusing on a show I curated, entitled Tierra
Incógnita, and two current shows Mixed Feelings
and Boyle Heights: The Power of Place I posit that
these may serve as models for curatorial strategies to a multicultural
Los Angeles audiences. These exhibitions attempt to address
current responses to identity politics in the arena of exhibition
spaces. I also acknowledge a common factor in creating work
by most Chicano / Latino working-class artists embody a rasquache
sensibility.
An analysis of Chicano art within
the paradigm of the public museum and exhibition practices
is important because of the power relations inherent in these
sites of cultural affirmation. Carol Duncan states in her
essay, “Art Museums and the Ritual Citizenship,” “[M]useums
can be powerful identity-defining machines. To control a museum
means precisely to control the representation of a community
and some of its highest, most authoritative truths (Duncan
1992) ." If the power of "identity-defining"
lays within the structures of museums as Duncan states, then
an examination of the exhibitions Tierra Incógnita,
Mixed Feelings, Boyle Heights should be analyzed
as shows that may subvert or resist “traditional” narratives
of representation through the inclusion of cross-cultural
and inter-generational artists. Although I will not engage
in the process of historicizing these projects under the rubric
of Chicano cultural production, I must acknowledge that for
our current understanding of curatorial practices CARA provided
a cognitive map for current (post 1990) Chicano and non-Chicano
curators to organize exhibitions that include Chicano art.
Alicia Gaspar de Alba reminds us
in her study Chicano Art Inside / Outside the Master’s
House: Cutlural Politics and the CARA Exhibition, we must
be aware of our complicity inside the “master’s house.” Given
the purpose of our symposium here today, we may agree that
we aptly have learned the “tools of the master” but how we
utilize this knowledge in representation of a vast and divergent
Chicano / Latino community remains as a challenge. Therefore,
I hope to illustrate how curating thematic exhibitions can
both serve as a mode of intervention to reinvigorate community
art spaces, such as Plaza de la Raza, as well as feature contemporary
trends amongst local artists.
CARA a Cara / Facing the Master’s
House? [2]
Chicano art intends that viewers respond both to the aesthetic
object and to the social reality reflected in it…Chicano art
is envisioned as a model for freedom, a call to both conscience
and consciousness.
Tomás
Ybarra Frausto
In 1974, Peter Plagens
reviewed Los Four at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art
for ArtForum he posed the issue that exhibiting Chicano art
the institution “museum-izes” the Chicano rather than Los
Four “Chicano-izing” the museum (Plagens 1974). Needless
to say, Plagens did not write the most favorable review on
Los Four’s first exhibition, however, Plagens’s response prompts
a question of whether Latino artists have “Latino-ized” the
museum since then, or have artists themselves been “museum-ized.”
If there was a fear by museums being “Chicano-ized” then these
institutions did well to prevent other artists’s work to be
shown at similar institutions. Nevertheless, issues regarding
who were included in exhibitions and where the show was seen
were issues still prevalent when CARA opened at the Wight
Art Gallery in 1990 and traveled nationally.
Can we enter the "master's
house" was a question posed to us by Alicia Gaspar de
Alba's study of the traveling exhibition Chicano Art:
Resistance and Affirmation, 1965-1985 (1990). In another
text, Karen Mary Davalos refers to this study to explore how
institutions like the Mexican Fine Arts Center Museum (Chicago)
and Galería de la Raza (San Francisco) create artistic havens
that promote the Mexican diaspora however, these institutions
still employ exhibition methods from the "master's house"
(Davalos 2001) .
Davalos notes that insider spaces,
for the most part, implemented these known exhibition practices
with exhibition displays that perpetuated a voyeur interaction
with objects on view. However, the moments when the "master's"
style altered appears when the didactics were written bilingually,
other mestizo communities were exhibited, and when the viewer
became the owner of his/her subject-position (186). If
her goal was for us to understand the role of art institutions,
whether insider / outsider, or communities in diaspora, and
begin to employ radical methods of representing the Other,
then she accomplished it in this extensive analysis. These
studies take to task the role of museums, they also reference
the politics of exhibition programming as was first argued
by Tomás Ybarra-Frausto in his essay "The Chicano Movement
/ The Movement of Chicano Art (Frausto 1991) ." His
analysis of the de-politicization of Chicano / Latino art
in the traveling art show Hispanic Art in the United States:
Thirty Contemporary Painters and Sculptors (1987, Museum
of Fine Arts House) takes to task “outsiders” curating an
“exotic” Other.
Rasquachismo considers how artist
“make do” through their use of materials and networks made
available primarily to working class artists, as well as how
artists selectively cite and incorporate discourses from art
movement and postmodern theories. Rasquachismo’s aesthetic
character depicts imagery that questions various moments in
popular culture, which in turn makes the work subversive by
turning the art cannon on its head through humor and satire.
However, in order for rasquachismo to be effective, it must
be recognized as an instinctively Chicano sensibility. Raúl
Villa and Alicia Gaspar de Alba [3] stress that lo rasquache is metaphoric
and practiced among working class artists. I advocate a return
to lo rasquache as a means to study the rich and nuance
Chicano /. Latino cultural production. Moreover, rasquachismo
as an organizing mechanism illuminates how artists and curators
organize themselves when curating exhibitions within and outside
"the master's house."
Through a “practice
of critical generosity” (Román 1998) I consider how an artist(s)
works with community(ies) and I seek exhibitions and artists’
works that fall outside canonical cultural production. Critical
generosity requires asking difficult questions even if one
is an advocate or cultural activist. Otherwise, how are we
to propel the growing field of Chicano / Latino cultural production?
Who is (re)membered? Nevetheless, an underlying question remains
can curators, art directors, and artists break free from
the nepantlismo of feeling caught between Aztlán and the river’s
edge when curating exhibitions about Chicano / Latino art?
Does the cultural production from new generation of artists
contend with identity politics or do they identify as being
in a post-identity moment?
Museums and other public institutions
should understand that must also have a close working relationship
with the communities they represent. Edmund Barry Gaither
notes that “museums have obligations as both educational and
social institutions to participate in and contribute toward
the restoration of wholeness in the communities of our country”
(Gaither 1992). The lack of representation by minoritarian
communities has occurred within the public museum. These
cultural spaces have mediated to restore”wholeness” in these
communities of color by curating or bring in traveling shows
to their audiences. Though I concede that funding mechanisms
determine what types of shows are presented, for the most
part Chicano / Latino shows are not seen as commonly in Los
Angeles. Following I share some observations and motivation
for curating Tierra Incógnita at Plaza de la Raza this
past spring. When “insiders” curate with the “master’s tools”
do exhibition paradigms shift?
Arriving at the River’s Edge
In my process of
exploring a creative consciousness.
I
have begun to learn to listen.
Aida Salazar
“geography
is a source of authority in the fundamental questions of inclusion
an exclusion and plays a crucial role in the determination
of identity and belonging…and contemporary art challenge[s]
and transform[s] that authority” (Rogoff 2000)
Irit Rogoff presents
in his study artists who engage with strategies "review
our relationship with the space we inhabit." Through
an analysis of "contemporary art's engagement with the
problematic of geography," I was struck with the similarity
of Latino artists and the connection to geography -- either
by the mythic homeland of Aztlán or by the experience of working
in urban or rural communities of color residing in the United
States, or a negotiation of the interdependency of identity
to geography. Captivated by Rogoff's work I aspired to engage
with his claim of the "problematic geography" in
relation to how Aztlán is depicted, hailed, (re)membered in
contemporary Chicano art. Primarily, I was also interested
in a cross-cultural dialogue about the idea home(land)s.
Tierra Incógnita
translates as the land that is unrecognized or incognito.
It was purposeful that all the artists in the exhibition are
artists of color because I wanted their work to invite viewers
to think about one' connection to land, space, and the role
memory plays while we shift to new homelands. As contemporary
art embraces their contributions, part of the subtext of the
exhibition is how are artists of color in conversation with
themes regarding identity-politics and of being recognized
and acknowledged in the art world. What stories are buried,
resurrected, and retold that emanate from this tierra?
When I first conceptualized
Tierra, I had no idea that I would be so fortunate
to collaborate with artists whose art I have been admiring
for the past five years. Contending with how to call this
millennial moment of posts - [place label here], I
invited Edgar Arceneaux, Xavier Cázares Cortéz, Christina
Fernandez, Pat Gomez, Patrick "Pato" Hebert, and
Sandy Rodriguez - to share their creative process. The six
artists were invited to participate in this exhibition while
it was still in its conceptual phase, although the presupposition
remained the same: to pose as a theme the role of memory and
its relationship to an identified homeland, and the role of
geography in the formation of one's cultural identity.
How can a body of work
speak to the transient nature of our livelihoods, expanding
the discussion of identity politics in this post-identity
moment? How do artists employ personal narratives to engage
audiences with a dialectical conversation of one's perceptions
of communities of color, particularly in Los Angeles - a city
in which diverse ethnicities reside? The artists responded
by creating new works that addressed how one's experiences
actuate the personal power needed to navigate between disparate
communities. Their art reflects these interactions and provides
viewers an opportunity to think about cultural connections
to land, space, and time. We learned from each other in our
roundtable sessions before the exhibition opened. I was interested
in the artists discussing amongst themselves their approach
to these larger philosophical issues. Other concerns were
the incorporation of different mediums such as site-specific
installations.
I argue that the artwork
in Tierra is part of a trajectory in U.S. contemporary
art that is consciously aware of the politics of entering
the 'master's house' even if we own the house. It was intentional
that Tierra opened at Plaza de la Raza, a prominent
cultural space in Los Angeles that has a legacy for featuring
contemporary work at their Boathouse Gallery. I believe that
cultural activists do not only create opportunities for artists
and work on their own creative projects, but a great part
of advocacy for the arts includes sustaining and nurturing
our cultural spaces with a mutual respect to differing perspectives.
For this exhibition,
I curated artists as opposed to selecting previously completed
artwork. Considering the artists created new work, roundtable
discussions, studio visits, and e-mail communications about
their projects were just as critical to the successful completion
of this project. I also collaborated with an education coordinator
to ensure that a gallery guide would be made available to
audiences visiting Plaza or viewing contemporary art for the
first time. The remaining textual components for Tierra
were the exhibition guide that included reproductions of the
artwork, and the wall texts which were written bilingually
being aware of Plaza’s audience constituency. Since we (the
artists and myself) did not know what the final show would
look until opening day March 21, 2002, it was exciting to
see that in fact the experiment worked to bring these six
artists together to create art that engaged with our contemporary
moment of elusive identities.
Most of the works were
site-specific installations, and the exhibition layout was
determined by assigning gallery areas. The layout of Tierra
models the cycles of life beginning with birth and ending
with death. They appeal to various sites of resistance such
as the Laundromat, one’s own body, the media, and political
strife on the home front. The artwork collectively addresses
perceptions, rather misperceptions of communities of color.
The exhibition brought other local contemporary artists to
a historic venue that has been a haven for contemporary Chicano
/ Latino artists. Consequently, another outcome an exhibition
such as Tierra was to introduce a community cultural
space to another generation of artists, who at times are not
considered part of the visual canon of Chicano / Latino art.
Tierra also begins a cross-cultural dialogue with other
communities residing in Los Angeles queer, black, 3rd
& 4th generation Chicanos and regions of the
Imperial and San Gabriel Valleys. Three examples that exemplify
the goals of the exhibition are Ostriches, Alligators,
and the Police, Oh My! Eastlake River/ Lincoln Park, 1900s
1970s, Totumbao, and Rootlessness by Sandy
Rodriguez, Patrick “Pato” Hebert and Edgar Arceneaux, respectively.
Rodriguez’ installation
evokes painting aesthetics of early 19th century
American paintings of the West. Rodriguez’ series analyzes
a 100 year history of this region and queries the power and
process of naming a place as one’s own. Depicted in the oil
paintings of Eastlake (pre-Lincoln Park) are images of a past
only remembered in vintage memorabilia when the park once
housed an ostrich farm, alligators in the lake, an arboretum,
and racetracks that ran along the park. The series solicits
a conversation between the past and present history of Lincoln
Park, where the Boathouse Gallery now stands. Intermixed
in this installation is also a matrilineal artistic family
legacy the artist claims as her own as she discovers her grandmother’s
travels to this region. The inclusion of photographs that
highlight Chicano youth activism of the 1970s resonates with
the community center’s past of coming into existence. The
installation can be viewed as a collective visual history
of what once existed.
Totuma: Panamanian
gourd
Tumba: n. tomb; v.
to knock down
Tumbao: rhythmic
structure for salsa moderno
Totumbao is Hebert’s
mixed media installation that converts gourds, a native plan
cultivated on the isthmus, to photographic storyboards which
present a post-colonial critique of the United States invasion
of Panama in 1989. Other materials created for this installation
included a series of e-mail conversations with Hebert’s aunts’
remembrances of the invación as well as a triptych that alludes
to witnessing of the Panamanian citizenry. The subtlety of
the installation invites viewers to remember that many Panamanios
died in this one-sided battle of political power and economic
gain in service of the United States. This installation is
more than an ofrenda and serves as a memory imprint paying
homage to the witnesses. Totumbao is a Panamanian’s
remembrance of and connection to homeland via family narratives
and fragmented histories. The installation can be viewed
as mediating between two worlds, often in conflict yet attempting
to live in harmony within cultural spaces of Las Américas.
Both installations contend with complexities of historical
memory and provide each artist a personal entrée to sharing
their family narratives.
Thematically these installations
comment on processes of historical archiving and are in conversation
with Edgar Arceneaux’s Rootlessness, mixed media installation.
Arceneaux compiled numerous photographs, textual memorabilia,
and record albums by artists who were part of Alex Haley’s
seminal made for t.v. movie “Roots.” Rootlessness
is a continued personal exploration of “social memory of place”
[4] in which he metaphorically represents “the
unbridgeable gap between loss and desire.”
[5] He interrogates the journeys to a mythic
or fictional homeland as featured in two television events,
the mini-series “Roots” and Gene Roddenberry’s ”Star Trek”
series (1966-present). Arceneaux assembles a genealogy of
memorabilia from these two shows and gleans memories gathered
in our collective tele-visual pop cultural history. A painting,
news clippings, books, videos, and other items, Rootlessness
attempts to unravel the ramifications of the historical cinematic
feat of “Roots” and its impact on a “racial narrative” outside
of the African American community; contrasting it with the
space age series “Star Trek,” hence challenging viewers to
map the connections between both series, to go “where no man
has gone before.”
The artworks should
not be seen as autobiographical tales, rather they offer viewers
with alterNative interpretations to geo-cultural landscapes.
These installations examine moments of historical displacement
among Chicanos, Carribeños, and Africans. In the Foucauldian
sense, they all reinterpret historical memory, challenging
origin myths and media portrayals of these divergent moments.
Tierra Incógnita should not be seen as the definitive
exhibition on how artists of color respond to themes discussed
above. We should engage with their work viewing it in mid-sentence,
in response to a previous conversation and in preparation
for a future dialogue that may or may not reference what we
see here. As I navigate through these mixed media installations
and photographic series, I invite you to traverse through
a type of artistic borderlands, a middle space that is vibrant
with creativity.
Beyond the River
My memory will
retain what is worthwhile. My memory knows more about me
than I do; it doesn’t lose what deserves to be saved.
- Eduardo
Galeano
I began by asking whether there’s
a breadth of Latinidad present in art exhibitions. Tierra
Incógnita opened spring of this year and was at Plaza
until early June. While reviews were limited, there was a
good response to the exhibition by gallery visitors. The
exhibition’s success was that it included artists whose work
provided fresh interpretations of Latinos, or at least modes
to discuss similarities with other communities. As this fall's
exhibition season began, two exhibitions Mixed Feelings:
Art and Culture in the Postborder Metropolis and Boyle
Heights: The Power of Place provides an opportunity to
query if in fact, there is an attention to cross-cultural
and inter-generational representation of artists in art exhibitions
organized locally. As some final thoughts, I want to propose
that Mixed Feelings and Boyle Heights allude
to trends that incorporate and question Latinidad as a community
identifier.
I reference these two exhibitions
and Tierra Incógnita because all three shows are trying
to contend with the viability of aesthetically moving and
socially conscious artwork. The diversity of aesthetic interventions
made by these artists in Los Angeles reflects their everyday
experience living in this vast and at times alienating metropolis.
The challenge for curators is to avoid producing exhibitions
that want to be all too inclusive. Perhaps, Pagel's critique
of Mixed Feelings that "it wants to be a carnival
or a doctoral dissertation" is his manner at not
willing to engage between the interdependent relationship
of art and its surroundings. Though I do not agree with Pagel's
review of Mixed Feelings he does raise an issue that
these three shows are still vested in identity politics.
The easiest way for ivory-tower scholars to pretend to be onto something
new is to slap the prefix "post" on an old idea.
In the '80s, postmodernism was all the rage. More recently,
it's been suggested that we live in a post-black era. Postborder
art is the curators' attempt to keep the identity-oriented
works that dominated the mid-1990s from dying a natural death.
Their angle: focus on artists whose ethnicities are hyphenated.
[6]
What Pagel fails to recognize is
that identity politics still becomes a way to present artists
of color in mainstream institutions. Further examination
of these three exhibitions regarding where they were viewed
- a community art center, a museum gallery, and national museum
- should be considered in other to explore how curators are
pushing the limitations of "identity based" art
exhibitions.
Can we enter the
master’s house? This question resonates throughout the
analysis of exhibitions presented and becomes a central question
to my study about contemporary cultural production by artists
of color. As I continue to write and curate exhibitions on
contemporary artists, issues posed in this paper on how Chicano
/ Latino art has been museum-ized and configured its vitality
as it has entered or been presented in more mainstream venues
is continually part of an expanding discourse of Latino museology.
Though it may be argued
that 1974 was not the first time Chicano art entered the master’s
house, [7] as cultural critics we must analyze how and when
are Chicanos / Latinos featured in public spaces such as museum
exhibitions. I have attempted in this study to highlight
moments of resistance whether inside or outside the master’s
house. Gustavo Leclerc describes the artistic communities
east of the Los Angeles river as “exiles…finding new ways
to (re)create their own identities. Such ‘cultures of resistance’
can take many forms, but all have to do with people and place.
[T]he qualities of place act to condition and constrain the
mechinism of identity formation” (Leclerc 1999). At least
for Chicanos and Latinos part of the mechanism of identity
formation is rooted in three creative acts of rememberance,
discovery, and volition (Ybarra Frausto 1999). A lo rasquache
is the spirit that coalesces each creative act to define and
identify our collective stories.
A discussion of the
power relations inherent in exhibition spaces and community
cultural spaces provides a framework by which to analyze curatorial
practices of three recent exhibitions. The master’s house
in this study present us with a means to discuss both the
ideological ramifications of exhibition practices as well
as the physical limitations. There is still more work to
be done in "textualizing Latino museology" which
includes reception analysis, as well as acknowledges the varied
histories of these diverse Latino communities. We must problematize
the geographical landscape(s) of Aztlán, Border Metropolis,
and Latino urban sites such as Boyle Heights which is the
direction I plan to explore in this project. Ultimately my
study hopes to bring to the forefront artistic interventions
to help curators and art programmers to conceptualize a city
like Los Angeles that mirrors the fluid transgressions of
one community to another.
References
Davalos, K. M. (2001). Exhibiting Mestizaje: Mexican
(American) Museums in the Diaspora. Albuquerque, UNM Press.
Duncan, C. (1992). Art Museums and the Ritual Citzenship.
Exhibiting Cultures: The Poetics and Politics of Museum
Display. I. K. a. S. Lavine. Washington, Smithsonian Institute
Press: 87-103.
Frausto, T. Y. (1991). The Chicano Movement / The Movement
of Chicano Art. Exhibiting Cultures: The Poetics and Politics
of Museum Display. I. K. a. S. D. Lavine. Washington,
Smithsonian Institution Press: 128-150.
Gaspar de Alba, A. (1998). Chicano Art Inside/Outside
the Master's House: Cultural Politics and the CARA Exhibition.
Austin, The University of Texas Press.
Gaspar de Alba, A. (1998). Pre-Face / Pre-CARA. Chicano
Art Inside / Outside the Master's House: Cultural Politics
and the CARA Exhibition. Austin, The University fo Texas
Press: xiii-xviii.
Lorde, A. (1983). The Master's Tools Will Never Dismantle
the Master's House. This Bridge Called My Back: Radical
Writings by Women of Color. F. T. C. B. Cherríe Moraga
and Gloria Anzaldúa. New York, Kitchen Table: Women of Color
Press: 98-101.
Pagel, D. (2002). This Glittery Lawn Mower Cuts to the Tough
Questions; The installation is the highlight of an otherwise
academic survey of the 'Postborder Metropolis'. Los Angeles
Times. Los Angeles: 6.
Prado, R. A. (1997). The Formation of a Chicano Art Canon:
Narrations and Exhibitions of Los Four, ASCO, and Self-Help
Graphics. Art History. Tucson, University of Arizona:
120.
° This essay was originally created in a research seminar on Los
Angeles offered at the University of Southern California.
I would like to thank my peers for dutifully reading through
drafts of this essay, particularly, Bridgett Hoida, Jennifer
Stoever, and Priscilla Ovalle. I would like to thank Professors
Tim Gufstason and Philip J. Ethington for their invaluable
insight, as well as to my mentor Teresa McKenna for offering
suggestions to this current excerpt.
° This essay was originally created in a research seminar on Los
Angeles offered at the University of Southern California.
I would like to thank my peers for dutifully reading through
drafts of this essay, particularly, Bridgett Hoida, Jennifer
Stoever, and Priscilla Ovalle. I would like to thank Professors
Tim Gufstason and Philip J. Ethington for their invaluable
insight, as well as to my mentor Teresa McKenna for offering
suggestions to this current excerpt. I appreciate my cohort
in the Program of American Studies & Ethnicity who listened
to various manifestations of this presentation.
[1] Los Four, the name of the exhibition
and collective included works by Carlos Almaraz, Frank Romero,
Gilbert "Magu" Luján, and Roberto de la Rocha,
opened at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, March 1974,
however, the original exhibition, curated Luján, opened
at UC Irvine, Art Gallery, November 10, 1973. Instrumental
in organizing both exhibitions was Hal Glicksman, who was
the curator at the UC Irvine Art Gallery and had collaborated
with Jane Livingston, curator at the Los Angeles County
Museum of Art in 1968. Los Four did travel to University
of California, Santa Barbara, California State University,
Sacramento, and Self-Help Graphics, Los Angeles. A twenty-year
retrospective took place at the Robert Berman Gallery, April
10, 1994.For more information on this see, Gaspar de Alba,
A. (1998). Chicano Art Inside/Outside the Master's House:
Cultural Politics and the CARA Exhibition. Austin, The
University of Texas Press. Prado, R. A. (1997). The Formation
of a Chicano Art Canon: Narrations and Exhibitions of Los
Four, ASCO, and Self-Help Graphics. Art History.
Tucson, University of Arizona: 120.
[2] The title references Audre Lorde’s
essay “The Master’s Tools will never dismantle the Master’s
House,” published in 1983 in several anthologies including
This Bridge Called My Back: Radical Writings by Women
of Color. F.T.C.B. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa.
New York, Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press: 98-101.
[3] The title references Lorde, A. (1983).
The Master's Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master's House.
This Bridge Called My Back: Radical Writings by Women
of Color. F. T. C. B. Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa.
New York, Kitchen Table: Women of Color Press: 98-101.
I also make reference to Gaspar de Alba's remark that
the museum is the "master's house where Chicano/a art
was currently installed." Gaspar de Alba, A. (1998).
Pre-Face / Pre-CARA. Chicano Art Inside / Outside the
Master's House: Cultural Politics and the CARA Exhibition.
Austin, The University fo Texas Press: xiii-xviii.
[4] Edgar Arceneaux artist statement
[6] Pagel, D. (2002). This Glittery Lawn
Mower Cuts to the Tough Questions; The installation is the
highlight of an otherwise academic survey of the 'Postborder
Metropolis'. Los Angeles Times. Los Angeles: 6.
[7] See Jacinto Qurarte’s early art historical
study on Mexican-American artists pre-1970. Quirarte, J.
(1973). Mexican American Artists. Austin, University
of Texas Press. Also see video on ASCO in which it describes
their first “guerilla” performance at the Los Angeles County
Museum of Art. Photograph is also reproduced in the Made
in California, exhibition catalogue by the Los Angeles
County Museum of Art.
Copyright © 2003
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