the 6th street bridge at
2315 Jesse Street
Los Angeles, CA 90023

Saturday December 17, 2015, 7 – 10pm

Cough Syrup.jpg


holiday party

cudayh x bbq la

curated by:
Timo Fahler
Adam Beris
Thomas Linder
Frankie Carino
Vanessa Kowalski

text by:
Vanessa Kowalski

works by:
Kenn Taylor
Ryan Oskin
Will Boone
Adam Beris
Timo Fahler
Jessica Hans
Chase Wilson
Frankie Carino
Amy Garofano
Cathy Fairbanks
Thomas Linder
Sarah Dougherty
Alexandra Toledo
David Del Francia
Vanessa Kowalski
Dylan Marcus Corbett
David Zuttermeister

I suppose this is our duty as artists.

Mental boundaries manifested in chainlink fences. We occupy the same tangled web. Immediate sensory gratification and an ungranted physicality. Not entirely legal - not entirely illegal? Highly Illegal. Two proponents of alternative spaces- aiming to make artistic endeavors more readily and easily accessible find themselves in a game of tug-of-war.

I suppose this is our duty as artists.

“Thus there is no sleep, no pause, no preservation, but all things renew, germinate, and spring. Why should we import rags and relics into the new hour? Nature abhors the old, and old age seems the only disease; all others run into this one. We call it by many names, — fever, intemperance, insanity, stupidity, and crime; they are all forms of old age; they are rest, conservatism, appropriation, inertia, not newness, not the way onward. We grizzle every day. I see no need of it. Whilst we converse with what is above us, we do not grow old, but grow young“ 

Although it has been possible to simulate time travel with tiny quantum particles, the same might not be possible for larger particles or atoms, which are groups of particles.”

Minute changes to infrastructure, pixel by pixel. Drag and drop. Underneath a microscope, 100x magnification, zoom out, satellite view and you lose your spot; reconfigure, recalculate, accept the new route, 3 minutes faster. The sprawl of LA landscape fashioned for a TV screen reality. The innate human desire to nest comfortably by means of locally plucked tools and materials and inversely flock to pastures that appear a darker, more lush, shade of green off in the distance. Shadows illuminated by street lights. Inner city lullaby. The river has run dry. The bridge floats; functions as a particle within a vast landscape, creating a microcosm that begins here (( itself and its immediate surroundings, )) swells. Will the rains ever come?

Effects which wait to radiate beyond its parameters. 

A chemical reaction that goes unseen.

Rebuilding rather than preserving- an admission of initial misguidance but backed by the courage to step forward rather than cower and defend faulty tactics.

Hindsight is always 20/20 but what does the future look like? The project has been postponed for years.

One day bleeds into itself:, I cross the bridge,I take it home, the day is 85, tomorrow is 85, I will cross the bridge, tomorrow is 85, I will cross the bridge.

A tangible force - sinew that binds point A to point B. Tender human touches well-oiled machine. Sparks. A welcome mat at the front gate- take your shoes off but don’t get too comfortable. Cheap rent, room to breathe, the parking is not so bad. 

Infancy, youth, receptive, aspiring, with religious eye looking upward, counts itself nothing, and abandons itself to the instruction flowing from all sides. But the man and woman of seventy assume to know all, they have outlived their hope, they renounce aspiration, accept the actual for the necessary, and talk down to the young. Let them, then, become organs of the Holy Ghost; let them be lovers; let them behold truth; and their eyes are uplifted, their wrinkles smoothed, they are perfumed again with hope and power. This old age ought not to creep on a human mind. In nature every moment is new; the past is always swallowed and forgotten; the coming only is sacred. Nothing is secure but life, transition, the energizing spirit. No love can be bound by oath or covenant to secure it against a higher love. No truth so sublime but it may be trivial to-morrow in the light of new thoughts. People wish to be settled; only as far as they are unsettled is there any hope for them.”

--RW Emerson, Circles, 1841

He wasn’t invited to the community meeting.

Materials: - the unstable, fuck things change, seismically unfit structures, Weight, chemical reactions, assemblages, collage, being in limbo, playing limbo, ripple effect, the fine line of misinterpretation and miscommunication, alternative routes, GPS, making a big fucking mistake, making a big fucking mistake in public, 3D models with little pieces of broccoli as trees, an article used the word “necessitating” , POST NO BILLS, body language determined by mode of transport, False Advertisement, returning to carbon, collecting dust, Work In Progress, temporary engagement within a long term arrangement, the vanishing point perspective, shattered ceramics, push and pull with a little extra push, and then some pull, 

Metal> Rusting> Iron Oxide> Back into dirt> forms rock> Rocks become ore> Ore is smelted to make metal, Stars explode, die> gas and debris goes into space> gets trapped into gravitational orbit> forms new astroids/planets/suns/stars

Does anyone else find it rather uncanny that we’re organizing an art show directly where the part of the bridge that will resemble the Guggenheim is located?

I suppose this is our duty as artists.