DRAWING DOWN THE MOON: Art Review

I am a reluctant driver these days, in Los Angeles. I’ve had enough of rude and clueless drivers, of endless traffic snarls around road works, of mad speeds on the freeways. The drive west from where we live at the far east end of the Hollywood hills used to be a pleasant, easy, even somewhat romantic drive along Sunset Boulevard. Nowadays, it’s a nightmare. 

Enough of that. Overcoming my reluctance, I was persuaded by Ellie—who is nursing a now nearly three-year case of Covid cabin fever—to make the drive across town to the Hammer Museum in Westwood. And as things turned out, I was glad I did. Lunch, first of all, out in the central courtyard, was a pleasant experience, at least (I can’t help but play the grouch from time to time) until the bill came. But food and service were both excellent, rare enough to be worth paying for.

We had driven this far to see the Andrea Bowers show but were side-tracked, on the way, by a sign announcing a show called “Drawing Down the Moon.” Sounded interesting. Stepped inside and stopped to read the introductory wall text, where my biases were immediately alerted by the mention of witches and goddesses and so on. Not for me, I thought. But then a couple of steps further I found myself already fascinated by first images in the show, including a print depicting three nubile, naked young “witches” engaged in erotic preparations for an evening on the town.

I should say here that I had no notebook with me, and am therefore unable to provide the kind of detail that I would have done in the old days, in an “art review.” You’ll just have to go see this utterly delightful show for yourself. Curated by Allegra Pesenti, former associate director and senior curator, Grunwald Center for the Graphic Arts, it spans a wide range of moon-related themes with works from all parts of the world—an international feast of the human imagination inspired by the “mystery and lure” of our closest celestial body. 

You’ll find a treasure on every wall, in every corner, in every display case. For example (and to give you an idea of the spread in time and space): a tiny, stunning painting by the German Romantic artist Caspar David Friedrich...

... a charming, miniature carved rabbit from 18^th century Japan...

... a huge “moon bowl” (for its contour, its color and its texture) from Korea; an intricate assemblage by our own (aren’t we lucky?) Betye Saar and an acquatint etching by her daughter Alison (“Eclipse”—a huge Afro blocking out the sun)...

... a construction piece by Los Angeles contemporary Michael McMillen; the small, haunting etching  of a woman waiting by a window on a moonlit night by Edvard Munch; a huge painting by Jay de Feo and a display case documenting that artist’s fascination with the moon; a wonderful abstract painting by Kandinsky; and a personal favorite by an artist I had never heard of (one of many!) Zarina, an untitled woodcut collaged with pewter leaf on black paper.

So much to see and think about. A page from William Blake. An excerpt from an edition of Sylvia Plath’s Collected Poems with the poem “The Moon and the Yew Tree” (Google it!) with the uncanny lines, “The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right,/White as a knuckle and terribly upset.” A sonnet by Shakespeare posted on the curve of a wall, as your turn the corner. Many surprises. Much delight. 

If you’re an artist living in the Los Angeles area, you’ll want to see this show. Don’t miss it. And for today, no disrespect, Andrea Bowers will have to wait. Tomorrow, maybe.

https://hammer.ucla.edu/drawing-down-moon