So I went to LACMA, the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, today with my Mom and little sister, Izzy, to you know, check out some sICK contemporary/modern art works and such. I have been missing city life/going to art museums a lot since Paris and I wanted to go on my birthday, but; unfortunately, my mom and I got a late start, so we decided to go a week later on a Sunday afternoon instead.
It all started out just great. We went to Alfred’s, got some coffee and a guava croissant (not as good as the croissants from Paris, of course, but you know, LA tries), then went to Mosaic church for some dance-y worship. My mom went from location to location with a concave pink-and-black umbrella, not because it was raining, but because she didn’t want the sun to perturb her lily-white skin, much like a mistress from the Edwardian era. Overall, a fun time.
Then we get to LACMA. As soon as we came to the counter, the man announced that there were several exhibits closed for construction. Was there a discount though? Nope. But you know what, we made it out here, we want to support the arts, so we wanted to make the best of what was to happen.
We went into the first exhibit, Korean Writing. Apparently, I get a little too close to reading a sign next to a painting and an attendant comes up within spitting distance to me. “Please step away from the painting and respect the tape, miss.” I look down, and a see light gray tape there. Ok, fair enough, I step away.
Then I start noticing little things. Like whenever there was a child how the museum attendant would follow them; ready on hand and foot to call out whatever rules the child may infringe upon. I hear a museum attendant shhh! a little kid after he gets too excited over a shiny ceramic bowl.
My mom, sister, and I go into another modernist exhibit. There, an attendant calls out my mom. “You have to have your bag on your front body. And also you were supposed to check-in your umbrella at the front.” Keep in mind, no one had ever mentioned these rules to us at the front, otherwise we would have been happy to oblige. “Oh, sorry about that,” my mom said, “I’ll be sure to keep the umbrella close to my body.”
At this point, I’m starting to get slightly white-woman peeved at the museum attendants. Like at every museum in Paris, sure they have their rules, no selfie sticks, no punching paintings, but at the end of the day, the museum attendants don’t really care what you do. They sit at their chair play Angry Birds, or whatever, on their phone. You can actually observe the art and not feel judged. And this is at the Centre Pompidou. At the Louvre. I’m pretty sure if you can feel comfortable holding an umbrella at the museum that holds the Mona Lisa, I think LACMA can probably loosen up a bit.
After having my Mom not being allowed into an exhibit because of her umbrella and my getting yelled at because I took a non-flash, video recording of an installation on my iPhone, we decided to leave.
It made me realize part of the reason why Americans don’t go to museums. They make you feel out of place and uncomfortable, only contributing to the elitism of the art world. If museums, like LACMA, really want to increase the accessibility of the art world beyond just the wealthy, they need to start making their patrons feel accepted the way they are. Don’t let an umbrella deter your audience from viewing art.
Anyways, sorry this weeks post of kinda complaining and bitchy. I don’t necessarily blame the whole of LACMA for this because i’m sure they do some great things was the community and such. Also, they might not be aware of how their security affects the viewing experience. It just upsets me because I remember hating museums growing up because they were a place of restriction instead of exploration. It made me want to rebel, so not stay with the group, get really close to art pieces, and even refuse to observe what is going on around me. Ironically, my rebellion towards art museums was kind of a performance art piece in itself (that’s pretentious af, i’m sorry). If my leaders growing up would have just let me be how I was, I don’t think I would have spent the first twenty years of my life hating museums and actually absorbed what was going on.
Thanks for listening. Enjoy some cute pictures of my wonderful, sweet, and incredible creative little sister Izzy at the LACMA.
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