For 30 years, Michael Schwartz has owned and operated Galerie Michael, an art gallery on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills, building, in his own words, “museum-quality collections, one work at a time.” Works by Picasso, Dali, Goya and Miró adorn the walls for the current exhibition on Spanish masters.
It was an elegant opening for a gallery exhibition. It was difficult to discern, on the surface, that the artists represented some of Los Angeles' most impoverished citizens, residents of Skid Row and South Los Angeles, who are actually using the broken bits of tile, stone and other rejected and recycled materials to rebuild their own lives.
Scene and Heard
Moshe Hammer's pieces look like quirkier, black-ink versions of medieval illuminated manuscripts. The Hebrew letters dance and morph into images based on his intensive studies of commentaries on the sefarim. Apparently, Hammer was feverishly working on such drawings when he took one of his late-night walks to clear artist's block in July 2004. He had trekked miles from his Fairfax area apartment when the truck hit him at the intersection of Santa Monica Boulevard and Western Avenue, killing him instantly, according to a coroner's report.
By this point in the summer, I know that my devoted Tommywood readers are all wondering the same thing -- be they sitting by the pool at the Sociét? des Bains de Mer in Monte Carlo, on their yachts sailing off the coast of Turkey or schvitzing in their New York apartments or Los Angeles homes.
They all want to know: How is he going to come up with another column about Hungarians?
Storyopolis, the children's art gallery and bookstore, is kicking out children next week for a grownups-only project, an Artists' Studio Series featuring the not-so-kid-friendly art created by children's book illustrators they work with regularly.
Robert Sturman said he never felt the need to observe Jewish rituals.
For local artist Rebecca Levy, building a body of work literally begins with the building. "Each one is different and has a charm of its own,"
In Lita Albuquerque's serene "Particle Memory," a constellation of gold disks swirls in an intense blue void. In Peter Shire's cheekily futuristic "Torso Teapot," a tiny central pot sprouts gangly limbs.
When artist Ted Meyer was first diagnosed with Gaucher disease, a lipid-storage disorder that is the most common genetic disease affecting Jews of Eastern European descent, he used his artistic talents to express his pain.
"Israel in Crisis: 20 Years of Israeli Art, 1980-2000," a summerlong avant-garde art exhibit at The Jewish Federation's Bell Family Gallery, distills some of the best painters who have brought about a revolution in the Israeli art scene.
When Harry Blitzstein decided to open up his Blitzstein Museum of Art (facetiously subtitled "Formerly Moe's Meat Market"), the neighboring merchants on Fairfax Avenue had a unanimous reaction. "They thought I was just kidding," the painter said.
If you didn't know that David Rose was one of our priceless assets, proceed to his pen and ink drawings on exhibit at the University of Judaism's Platt Gallery. A look at this lively body of work suggests that virtually everywhere 20th-century Jewish history was being made, David Rose was there.