One of the most-buzzed-about gallery shows in Los Angeles this Frieze Week is also one of the most elusive.
David Hammons’s ambitious installation, was first shown in New York more than 20 years ago, shortly after the 9/11 attacks. Now, it has been reintroduced at Hauser and Wirth’s sprawling headquarters in the Downtown Arts District.
Hammons is known for his steadfast commitment to his vision, often eschewing art world norms. It’s interesting to consider how much has changed for him—and the art world—over the past two decades ago, and how that has potentially changed the reception of the work.
The entrance to David Hammons’s Concerto in Black and Blue at Hauser and Wirth Los Angeles. Photo Eileen Kinsella
The intriguing, ambiguous artwork invites visitors to step into a dark, cavernous space armed only with a tiny blue flashlight. (These are offered on a tray situated near the entrance.) The pitch-black gallery is enormous—the whole north side of the gallery’s complex—but you move through it quickly since there is nothing really to see. The work is not for sale, and there is no press release (Hammons doesn’t do them), only a one-sentence explanation on the gallery’s website.
David Hammons, Concerto in Black and Blue. Photo: Hauser & Wirth
As when the work was presented at Ace Gallery in Manhattan in 2022, the flashlights ensure that viewers can navigate the space without bumping into anything (or anyone). Part of the experience is seeing other blue lights swiveling about the walls and floors as other members of the audience meander. The “concerto” in the title could refer to the shifting shapes and shadows created by the lights cutting through the darkness. You are in good, and quiet, company.
That sense of silence is pronounced. Although nothing in the gallery signage prohibits talking, there was very little conversation or sound inside the galleries, which contributes to a peaceful, almost meditative feeling.
You might take the piece as a comment on looking at art but not actually being able to truly see it—to make sense of it.
Before entering the gallery, you are asked to put your phones into pockets. Photo by Eileen Kinsella
Visitors approaching the entrance of the current Hammons show are asked to slip their phones into neoprene containers that are then locked and handed back to you. A magnetic mechanism at the exit of the show is used to unlock the slip and return the sleeve. There are containers to return both the sleeve and the mini-flashlights as you exit the galleries.
Photo by Eileen Kinsella
It’s a mandatory but democratic way of guaranteeing that viewers honor Hammons’ intentions of the interior of the artwork not being documented or photographed. That would not have been as pressing a concern all those years ago, five years before the first iPhone debuted.
Photo by Eileen Kinsella
A film by Linda Goode Bryant from the 2002 debut of is running in the Hauser and Wirth screening room, and it is a wonderful, brief snapshot of the project.
Photo by Eileen Kinsella
The mega-gallery’s entire Downtown space, in a former flour mill, serves as a calming oasis from the minute you step inside. There are also major installations and works on view by artists like Martin Creed and Mary Heilmann, an impressively packed bookstore, the Ursula cafe (which shares its name with the gallery’s periodical), the wildly popular Manuela restaurant, and a plant-filled courtyard.
The courtyard of Hauser and Wirth’s Downtown Los Angeles gallery space with a view of Manuela restaurant. Photo by Eileen Kinsella
I also happened upon the gallery’s very own chicken coop en route to the Hammons show. A nearby sign advises: “Please do not feed the chickens or place anything in the chicken coop.”
Source: Exhibition - news.artnet.com
