August Editor’s Picks

As we break from Snap Reviews for the summer,
enjoy monthly curated picks from our editors across exhibitions,
books, food, TV, and more.

Exhibitions

Adam Parker Smith at The Hole
June 11–August 20, 2022

Adam Parker Smith, Crush (installation view) (2022). Image courtesy of the artist and The Hole.

Each marble sculpture in Adam Parker Smith’s Crush is a squished and compacted iteration of its Hellenic referent: the limbs of David, Apollo, and Agustus irreverently splay and liquify as they cram into a cubic meter of space. Equipped with 3-D scans of the original sculptures (provided by the staff of their respective museums), Smith digitally rendered his new, smashed effigies before departing for Carrara, Italy, where he fabricated the series of sculptures on-site with the aid of both a robotic arm and a team of master carvers.

Through this looping methodology, Smith utilizes the same ancient methods and materials as the originals, collaborating with the stewards of the classical sculptures and craftspeople trained in the process to ultimately upend them. Yet, there is reverence in the recreations, and the smashed structures retain a certain austerity of form that belies their crumpled state—Smith was careful to leave their blank-eyed faces intact.

The quadrate sculptures seem to offer an update to their elongated forebearers, fit especially for our contemporary era. After all, in the breakneck speed of global consumerism, squares are easier to ship, stack, and replicate—not to mention, they fit neatly into the Instagram grid for seamless digital consumption.

–Lindsay Preston Zappas

Working Together: The Photographers of the Kamoinge Workshop at the Getty
July 19–October 9, 2022

Herb Robinson, Miles Davis at the Vanguard (1961, printed later). Gelatin silver print, 14 x 10 inches. © Herb Robinson. Image courtesy of the artist, Bruce Silverstein Gallery, and the Getty Museum.

Working Together: The Photographers of the Kamoinge Workshop at the Getty is the first major museum exhibition showcasing the work of the collective of Black photographers formed in New York City in 1963. The black-and-white silver gelatin prints on view are stunning and distinct, but together, they offer a glimpse into an ecosystem of support— among the artists’ personal work are pictures made for commercial clients, for self-initiated exhibitions, and those given to one another as gifts. The exhibition is an important kind of corrective, but the impact of these images reverberates beyond any institutional attempt to retroactively insist upon it.

The exhibition spotlights the work of 14 of the group’s founding members—I lingered particularly on photographs by Herb Robinson, Ming Smith (the first and only female member of Kamoinge), Anthony Barboza, and Adger Cowans. Without the oversaturated color, techy gimmicks, or expensive productions that photography sometimes draws, these images feel like the work of photographers who have mastered the fundamentals of the medium and done away with the rest.

Above all, the photographs demonstrate a high consideration for the impact and quality of light. Robinson’s incredible image Miles Davis at the Vanguard (1961, printed later) evidences the ethos of these photographers to its most extreme. The image is so pared down that it’s almost just a collection of blurred shapes floating on a black background. But, unmistakably, a portrait of Miles Davis emerges, just the lively sheen of his forehead, cheekbone, and the bridge of his nose visible atop the corner of a striped button-down.

This photograph and so many others are built on the profound legacy of Roy DeCarava, who became Kamoinge’s first director in 1963. Many photographs by DeCarava are included in Working Together, and as is characteristic of much of his work, they are dark images whose figures emerge from soft and specific light sources—the photos made on instinct and because they felt necessary.

–Erin F. O’Leary

Sam Shoemaker at OCHI
July 16–August 27, 2022

Sam Shoemaker, Tony Hawk Pro Skater (2022). Ceramic, Ganoderma lingzhi (reishi mushroom), and supplemented sawdust, 17x11x14.5 inches. Image courtesy of the artist and Ochi Projects. Photo: Ian Byers-Gamber.

Reishi mushroom tendrils emerge from ceramic and glass vessels at OCHI in Mid-Wilshire. L.A.-based artist and mycologist Sam Shoemaker’s first solo show at the gallery, More Permanent Than Snow, features an ensemble of Ganoderma lingzhi, or reishi mushrooms, paired with hand-built ceramic vessels, blown glass sculptures, and plinths of various shapes and sizes. Whether foraged from the streets of Los Angeles or acquired from myco culture libraries worldwide, Shoemaker’s practice involves developing spores in his basement, where he utilizes a unique substrate to begin the months-long process of nurturing and choreographing the fungus. Via the manipulation of space, light, temperature, and CO2 levels, Shoemaker responds to individual mushrooms’ moods and personalities, developing a deep-seated connection between landscape, human, and fungi.

An inherent sense of playfulness is felt in the works. Extending past Shoemaker’s basement play and experimentation, the vessels and mushrooms themselves take on the appearance of whimsical structures or miniature playgrounds in a lush park. The ceramic vessel in Tony Hawk Pro Skater (2022) features archways that the reishi blast through, reaching into the atmosphere like scraggly fingers. On the side, rectangular forms jut out like stairs, offering a way to access the top level. Around the corner, a single golden cap fans out to say hello. Situated in the corner of the gallery, a substrate is in process of development. As if transported into Shoemaker’s basement lab, the viewer sees a round bottom flask teaming with mold and bacteria. A single strip of masking tape functions as a label. Scribbled are the words, “dog food,” as substrate can be made from any number of natural materials.

–Alitzah Oros

Reading 

As I prep for teaching fibers this fall, Arounna Khounnoraj’s beautiful book Embroidery has been guiding me through a library of stitches and designs. Each stitch technique on my in-progress sampler feels like a little treasure—colorful chains, woven lattices, and web-like wheels have stretched my knowledge of the craft with playful whimsy. The book has great step-by-step instructions that I look forward to sharing with my students.

–Lindsay Preston Zappas

I was really pleased to learn of Kelsey Sucena’s recent essay, “The Ghosts of Instagram: On Photography at the End of the World,” published by fifth wheel press. The short piece covers  surprisingly complex territory, and I loved Sucena’s voice, which blends heavy theoretical and colloquial language to great effect. Sucena considers the trend in photo book publishing toward the “‘small-run open-call based group publication,’” situating it as a marketing tool born of the social network era. I was compelled by this keen observation alone, but Sucena approaches larger questions about the state of photography. The sentence that stopped me in my tracks was this: “Build your platform to compete with old institutions and you are already implicitly agreeing to that market’s logic.”

–Erin F. O’Leary

With the end of my summer break looming just around the corner, I craved a juicy thriller that I could read on the beach. Ruth Ware’s In A Dark, Dark Wood—a story about estranged friendships and a bachelorette party gone terribly wrong—turned out to be exactly what I was looking for. Her writing is detailed yet quick, and the story moves at an alarming pace, bopping between past and present. The book, unfortunately, never made it to the beach. Like a possessed maniac, I finished it in under 48 hours.

–Alitzah Oros

Eating 

Joy in Highland Park feels like an old friend. Even if you haven’t spoken for years, you always pick up right where you left off. My partner and I recently put together a blissful takeout order that included the thousand layer pancake, mapo tofu, dan dan noodles, and pork buns, absolutely rekindling our love for the restaurant. We will absolutely be returning soon. 

–Lindsay Preston Zappas

Yesterday, I purchased three XL Heath bars in preparation for the upcoming weekend. I’m baking a cookie recipe I got from my mom, which I recently found out is—like so many of the best family recipes—just a slightly-adapted version of a recipe taken from the back of a boxed mix. I use King Arthur’s recipe for gluten-free chocolate chip cookies as my “base,” and per my mom, I brown the butter, swap the chocolate chips for chopped Heath bars, and add toasted pecans. The result is a cookie that’s saltier and more complex than the traditional version—irresistible.

–Erin F. O’Leary

When I visit my parents, 98 percent of the time, I beeline straight to the kitchen. There’s always something cooking (or cooling) on the stove. On this particular morning, a week or two back, I smelled barbacoa from the hallway entrance. It beckoned me to come closer. Fresh tortillas, barbacoa, consomé, and a trio of salsas welcomed me from the kitchen table. In a matter of seconds, I’d inhaled my first taco. It was drenched in salsa roja; the back corners of my mouth stung, but I liked it. I asked my dad about the barbacoa spot, and not looking up from the Youtube video playing loudly on his phone, he said, “next to the Shell gas station by Alpine Village in West Carson. It’s a stand on the side of Hamilton Avenue. Cross street is Torrance Boulevard. Tell them Marte sent you.”

–Alitzah Oros

Watching 

This is a bit of an inside plug, but I was so moved by our Summer Film series. Made in collaboration with Sci-Arc, the films began as Carla articles, and it was so thrilling to see how visual storytelling brought the texts to life, giving them new dimension. You can catch up on the four-part series, which focuses on community and social justice, here.

–Lindsay Preston Zappas

Jordan Peele’s Nope is an innovative take on the cowboys and aliens trope, but to me, the film felt mostly like a meditation on spectacle, and on our fractured, exploitative relationship with non-human creatures. The film strikes a quieter register than Peele’s recent films, and Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer were excellent (as ever). Naturally, I am also still thinking about the significance of the reference to Eadweard Muybridge’s galloping horses. Peele invents a story for the Black jockey in the photograph, who was never credited (though the horses were listed by name!), and builds the film out from there, thus commenting also on the historically exploitative nature of the medium itself.

–Erin F. O’Leary

From July to September, the grassy hills beside Griffith Park’s Old Zoo come alive with performances by Los Angeles’ Independent Shakespeare Company. This year, the Griffith Park Free Shakespeare Festival is closing out the summer with Macbeth and I am jazzed! It’s so much more than 90 or so minutes of theater. Indy Shakes brings creativity, immense talent, sidesplitting humor, and diversity to the stage. What originated as a class assignment four years ago has turned into a tradition my partner and I refuse to break. Also, did I mention it’s free?

–Alitzah Oros

Alitzah Oros is an art historian currently based in Los Angeles.

More by Alitzah Oros

Erin F. O’Leary is a writer, editor, and photographer from the Midwest and raised in Maine. A graduate of Bard College, she has lived in Los Angeles since 2018, where she writes about photography and image culture.

More by Erin F. O'Leary

Lindsay Preston Zappas is an L.A.-based artist, writer, and founder and editor-in-chief of Carla. She is an arts correspondent for KCRW. She received her MFA from Cranbrook Academy of Art and attended Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture in 2013.

More by Lindsay Preston Zappas