Monthly Archive for January, 2009

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The crunch of gravel: Sadegh Tirafkan at LACMA.


Persepolis Part II by Sadegh Tirafkan at LACMA. (Photo by C-M.)

There is something about the crunch of boots on gravel that I find indescribably appealing. It’s something I associate with being a kid, when, every evening, I’d hear the sound of my dad’s pick-up pulling up outside our house, followed by the percussion of his boots all the way up our gravel driveway — and I knew that it was time to eat. (I was born hungry.) Which is why I was so excited to run into Sadegh Tirafkan‘s video piece, Persepolis Part II in the Ancient Iran galleries at the L.A. County Museum of Art

The piece consists of two monitors, each with video of Tirafkan walking silently through the ruins of Persepolis, the ancient Persian capital. The video is rather dreamlike: the two images of the artist continually walk deliberately towards each other, but never meet. And all that is audible is the scraping sound of his feet on dry rock. It transforms the gallery, which is filled with lifeless shards of ancient pottery, into something more dynamic (if nostalgic).

If you happen to be popping into the museum to check out Art of Two Germanys, a detour to the Ahmanson building to check this out is totally worthwhile. The installation will be up through March.

In other news: I’ve got a lot going on workwise, so I’m cutting The Digest back to four days a week, Monday through Thursday. Thanks for reading, xox, C.

Calendar. 01.22.09.


Mud, Blood Tears, 2005 by Kirsten Nash at the Queens International 4. (Image courtesy of the Queens Museum of Art.)

The Digest. 01.22.09.


Broken egg. (Photo courtesy of The Old Gold.)

School of Rock: Thom Mayne’s Diamond Ranch High School.


The school’s central walkway, known in Diamond Ranch parlance as “The Panther Path.” (Photos by C-M.)

Looking like the San Andreas fault in the wake of the Big One, the principal walkway through Thom Mayne‘s Diamond Ranch High School makes its way through buildings that resemble craggy canyons of rock. Set on a sloping, hillside in Diamond Bar, Calif., about 30 miles east of downtown L.A., the structures are now a decade old. The design remains starkly beautiful (the metal exteriors shimmer, like a mirage, in direct sunlight), but like the surrounding desert environment, they are also quite forbidding. Diamond Ranch is serious testosterone architecture. There’s an abundance of corrugated metal, sharp angles and long, dim corridors that frame the outdoors in ways reminiscent of miner’s tunnels. And then there’s the relentless concrete, which is rarely interrupted by nature, even though the school’s principal public spaces all reside outdoors.

The vice principal who led us around the school — and who had been there since they first opened — said that while he enjoyed the shapes of the buildings, they did present plenty of challenges in terms of policing the campus. Odd angles, obscured staircases and dark passages provide plenty of places to smoke and suck face. On an aesthetic level, the combined greys of the concrete and metal leave many parts of the campus feeling frigid. Some classrooms had spectacular valley views, while others made do with indirect light and the sight of steel trusses. The students we spoke with, however, generally dug the structures. Reared on a lifetime of Star Trek and Star Wars and lots of other star stuff, they felt that the futuristic car-commercial look was kinda cool — and set their school apart from the bland concrete lumps elsewhere in the county.

I didn’t love everything about the school — the barren interior courtyards couldn’t be bleaker — but I totally respect it’s aggressive virility. Diamond Ranch is the Daniel Craig of architecture: hard and edgy, with a rugged sex appeal — the type of structures that can take a rope to the nuts and still say, “Come and get me motherfuckers.” And I gotta confess, I find that kinda hot. 

Click on images to supersize. Many more after the jump.

Continue reading ‘School of Rock: Thom Mayne’s Diamond Ranch High School.’

The Digest. 01.21.09.


Peter Cooper Village, by Nina Young. (Image courtesy of the Humble Arts Foundation.)

Congrats to Pete in NYC for winning the first C-Mon Giveaway Extravaganza of the new year. He claims that he will use it to draw things “on work time.” Send us an image when you’re ready, Pete, and we’ll publish it here.

Calendar. 01.20.09.


Totentanz (Dance of the Death), 1946, by Karl Hofer, in Art of Two Germanies, at LACMA. (Image courtesy of LACMA and the Berlinische Galerie.)

The Digest. 01.20.09.


The day in hyper-secure government architecture: The Presidential Viewing Stand for today’s Inauguration. (Photo courtesy of the Presidential Inaugural Committee.)

Hey folks: C-Monster.net Paris Bureau Chieftess Yvonne Connasse and myself will be Tweeting odd links, informative stories, ridiculous photos and all kinds of other madness related to Inauguration Day. Please join us for the first-day-of-school fun. You can find me here and Yvonne here. In the meantime, here’s Lifehacker’s handy guide to watching the inauguration from anywhere. xox, C.

This is gonna be the speech to beat.


FDR, First inauguration.

Unfortunately, this is just a short clip. MNSNBC isn’t letting me embed the full video (which is really good). Check it out in the “Past inaugurals” section of their video feed. (Dear MSNBC: Next time, at least let people direct-link. This is bogus.)

Monster Madness in Italy, 16th-century style.


Inside, no one can hear you scream: An orc in the Bomarzo Monsters Park, which lies just a couple of hours outside of Rome. (Photos by San-Suzie.)

To grieve the death of a loved one, there’s nothing quite like commissioning almost a couple dozen freaky stone statues and then laying them around the yard. In 1552, the broken-hearted Prince Pier Francesco Orsini, of the Italian province of Viterbo, did just that. To mourn the death of his beloved wife, Giulia Farnese, he created the Bomarzo Monsters Park.

The park was designed by architect Pirro Ligorio, known for overseeing construction on the mega-church of all mega-churches — St. Peter’s in the Vatican — as well as designing the formal Villa D’Este gardens, in Tivoli, a UNESCO world heritage site. (The fountains there put the Bellagio in Las Vegas to shame.) At Bomarzo, instead of going for imposing, Christian grandeur or super-duper water show, Ligorio went for all out Dungeons & Dragons nuttiness. The grounds are strewn with super-sized stone monoliths of dragons, a gaping-mouthed ogre, Hannibal’s elephant, and a nausea-inducing, leaning house that looks like the sort of thing Disneyland would shut down for safety reasons. Beats me how one’s bereavement is quelled by statues of giant turtles, but perhaps the answer lies between the gargantuan fins of a stone mermaid with a gaping hairy wishing well.

Click on images to supersize. Mermaid after the jump.

Continue reading ‘Monster Madness in Italy, 16th-century style.’

The Digest. 01.19.09.


Lunchtime, Hungary, 2002 by Monika Merva. (Photo courtesy of Monika Merva.)