LACMA, by M

In one of my last posts before my brain is turned completely to vapor, I went to the LA County Museum of Art. LACMA. To the Vanity Fair Exhibit. We did not make it to the new contemporary wing. And I found out that, though I enjoyed looking at the pictures, I pretty much revile the cult of celebrity. So as much as I wanted to see through that to the artistry behind the photograph, I couldn't get past "knowing" who the subject was. But only as one knows Disneyland or Notre Dame. It's not that I really know it but that the visual is ubiquitous? Maybe. And that the photos don't necessarily do anything to subvert what I already "know". Is that important?

And I can't tell what the thrust of the exhibit was but that it needed more behind it. There was a quip about these photographers being the advent of modern portraiture..., but that at least a couple copied the great painterly masters of the past... and that I've already lived with it for so long I have no appreciation for it. A naked lance armstrong I did not blink an eye at as he intently posed on his bike, but I did recall what a fervor demimoore caused bare and pregnant... so clearly something has happened in the last near 20 years... though my fickle mind doesn't want to deduce what that might be. Besides I had the Hearst Collection to view and other places to wander. Next up more on LACMA and the saint of abused women. Something I found infinitely more fascinating. . . here's what I took until my phone battery died.