With your year long Carla subscription, you will receive a new issue right to your doorstep every 3 months.
Our advertising program is essential to the ecology of our publication. Ad fees go directly to paying writers, which we do according to W.A.G.E. standards.
We are currently printing runs of 6,000 every three months. Our publication is distributed locally through galleries and art related businesses, providing a direct outlet to reaching a specific demographic with art related interests and concerns.
To advertise or for more information on rates, deadlines, and production specifications, please contact us at firstname.lastname@example.org
An oversized black tag on each purple t-shirt reads: “The truth will set you free but first it will piss you off. Gloria Steinem.” On Etsy, you’ll find the quote easily on mugs or bathroom mats—though no one seems to know when exactly Steinem said it (and some attribute it to life coach Werner Erhard, or Jesus). Swiss artist Sylvie Fleury embroidered the pithy, possibly feminist-uttered truism onto shirts, stacked neatly on the second floor of her current exhibition at Karma International L.A.
The show is a candy-colored exercise in precision, with name brand feminism literally woven in. Upstairs, green and peach casts of Vetements boots sit beneath bright, fuzzy squares of faux fur on stretcher bars (Cuddly Paintings), while single, smooth lipstick marks interrupt the glass surfaces of three vanity mirrors (Hollywood Vanity 1, 2, and 3, all works 2018). Downstairs, shaped acrylic canvases with titles like Envy Blush and Colorful 5 mimic the contours and palettes of blush and eyeshadow compacts; a shining motorcycle, Gloria’s Triumph (Kawasaki 101, 1973), features a custom-painted purple tank. Fleury’s soft rocket sculptures, one army green and the other gold, slouch voluptuously.
Fleury’s experiments with cosmetics and fashion date to the 1990s (e.g., Skin Crime no. 3, 1996, a smashed car the color of a rouge Givenchy lipstick, not included here). But the work resonates differently today. Weeks ago, in her confusing takedown of “Twitter feminists” in Harper’s, contested intellectual Katie Roiphe described writer Kaitlin Philips poking recklessly at misogynists then also tweeting about her Margiela boots, the implication being that impulsive #MeToo tweets plus materialism equals dangerous.
Fleury’s work occupies that danger zone, mistakable as a Vogue-ready celebration of the cosmetic (though revered formalists like Ellsworth Kelly were Vogue-ready too). That said, in this show, the two works that most compel don’t conform to any preconceived shape of beauty. The Venus Rockets, flop and bulge, defying the taut sleekness typically associate with spaceships and sexisness. Still as neatly executed as everything else on view, perhaps the rockets are what happens once you’ve stopped being pissed off by the truth, stopped caring about the confining contours of fashion or feminism and slid into a bodysuit with wings.
Sylvie Fleury: LA Bouganvillia runs March 20–May 5, 2018 at Karma International (4619 W. Washington Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90016).