Word: artists
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...process, he became one of the first American examples of the artist as celebrity, wielding what Harold Rosenberg felicitously called "the shady lyricism of the Sunday supplement." He was blessed (and afterward dogged) by the circumstance of being everyone's idea of the hipster from the Bronx-a mean blade, good with a saxophone or a motorcycle, the flamboyant, randy and infinitely dexterous picaro of Tenth Street. But by the end of the '60s, his virtues had to an extent rebounded on his reputation. His astounding skill as a traditional, realistic draftsman looked vaguely suspect to some critics...
...acrylic. At the other, it is apparent in the prismatic bloom of Larry Bell's immaculate glass boxes, and in Robert Irwin's pale disks floating into immateriality above their own cast shadows. The "look" is always playing games with media (where but in L.A. would an artist do drawings in caviar and gunpowder, as Ed Ruscha did?) and it stops just this side of fetishism and overrefinement...
...chopper, or to aerospace technology; it has little to do with the "mainstream" of art as defined in New York, and some critics find this hard to forgive. "It is apparently as easy," snorted one writer in Art forum recently, "to rack up in Los Angeles as an artist as it is to be a stringer of beads. In California, the idea of luxe, calme et volupté is simplified into prettiness and expensive-lookingness...
...Angeles Critic John Coplans, "are basically social clubs with a strong materialistic background of acquisitions for local trustees. You can't walk into any museum in L.A. for most of the year and see a permanent installation of vital work that's being done here." Adds one artist realistically: "We are not maintained here...
Gabriel the painter is its central character, a loquacious and unrecognized artist who buys time to paint his apocalyptic visions by turning out cheap still lifes of Chianti bottles to order for a downtown trash shop. He is the stoned descendant of Joyce Carey's Gulley...