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Posts Tagged ‘Rabbit Hole Gallery’

photo taken by Hilary Scurlock

Ok, so it was my fault. I gave the wrong address–the Rabbit Hole gallery show was at 4423 W. Jefferson and I told the others going that it was 4223.  Instead, we all ended up at “Pancakes and Booze” at 4300 W. Jefferson.  The lighting was soft, the music was loud, and designer Timmery’s ’80s inspired bottle cap and repurposed-cassette-tape jewelry was the icing on the (pan)cake.

The gallery owners at 4300 W. Jefferson Blvd. in Los Angeles have figured out how to do a show just right, even though they are both filmmakers.  They search for local artists on Craigslist and always get over 100 responses from people vying for spots in their shows.  The art displayed at “Pancakes” was fun and relevant to the crowd there–hip and youthful.  Some of it was politically inspired, like the charcoal drawings that turned good ol’ Dick Cheney into a glasses-wearing mermaid.  Other pieces made you think, like the black, blue and white jokers that were almost kissing and were adorned by smaller versions of themselves. And the $5 entry fee we each paid because we were not on “the list” was completely worth it because of the do-it-yourself pancakes.  And yes, there was chocolate sauce.

We still made a brief appearance at “Rabbit Hole”.  I figured out why it was called that:  the art centered on a garish vaginal theme.  Can I say vaginal?  The lighting was too bright and the crowd was unwelcoming.  It was almost like being at a gynecological visit.  The artists, the gallery owners, and the bartender at “Pancakes” were as delightfully playful as the art, but at “Rabbit” the people who walked stiffly past us were, at best, uninviting.

The mood at “Rabbit” was not really my scene, even though the jewelry at this venue was more wearable.  The art was sparse and, though some of it was abstract–squiggly dark lines stretching across a pink dappled canvas suggesting the crux of femininity–other pieces were just gratuitous, like the photographs of three nude women who were smeared with paint here and there standing in beautiful, raw natural spaces with cardboard boxes over their heads.  It seemed like the artist just wanted to get a few girls naked and I, personally, took offense to that.  Luckily, I guess sometimes you travel down the rabbit hole and end up in a bed of pancakes and booze.

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