Archives for posts with tag: George Condo

Writer Michael Gastor collected me and the injured Little Dog from the Malibu house at midday and we drove east.

He has been in Berlin writing a script for a German director about Julian Assange.  I am toying with moving to Berlin in December.  He had a great time there.  I’m sure I would too.

We stopped at American Rag and bought wrapping paper and a birthday card for Transformers Producer Tom Desanto.  Tom’s birthday pool party thrown by his friend Adam Press.  He seemed pleased with the gifts.  Books from my personal collection that he had admired last week.

We arrived early…before the beautiful, half-naked boys began playing beer pong.

I was dressed for the next event so looked like a total freak.  I wore the hat I bought for Jake at Lanvin last summer.  My futuristic Helmut Lang shirt was commented on but not, I think, admired.  Everyone else in board shorts and…and nothing much else.  Chatted to a couple of really cool kids.   Managed, of course, to locate the only straight boy and settled into a long, fruitless conversation.

Michael played pool and drank whiskey.  The host was charming and sweet.  Dane arrived.  Huh?  How did that happen?

Our birthday parties couldn’t have been more different.  Somebody bought him a 6 foot inflatable penis.

Really glad I made the effort and hauled my ass over there.  Good God!  Who knew that there were so many beautiful, young actor boys with perfect bodies?   Toby arrived with his new squeeze.

Apparently Bryan Singer turned up just after we left.

At 3pm (in the blazing sun) we drove to another pool party.  John and Valoree Papsidera’s ‘Paws‘ fundraiser at his office ‘compound’ downtown.  The offices are an ex-swimming club that he has beautifully renovated.  This man has exquisite taste.  His art collection…to die for.  Some great names: Clemente, Judd, Pettibon and the most gorgeous George Condo.  I am newly converted to Condo.

John Papsidera is king.

John Papsidera

Of course, John can attract a glittering Young Hollywood crowd.  Jason Ritter (super sexy), Zach Quinto (super cool), Drew Barrymore, Olivia Wilde, Molly SimsMalin Akerman, Gavin Polone (owns The Waffle with John), Amber Heard , Alicia Silverstone, Olivia Munn, Jules Daly, Rainn Wilson, Ali Larter, Hayes MacArthurTalulah Riley, Elon Musk, Dwight Yoakam.

Chatted recovery and Dr Drew with Drew Pinsky‘s Love Line side kick, the devilishly handsome Psycho Mike (Michael Catherwood).  He was in Dancing with the Stars….Valoree produces that show.

Is Psycho Mike Gay?

Olivia Munn joined Psycho Mike and I.

He said, “You are the hardest working woman in Hollywood.”  (unfortunate choice of words)

I said, “Oh, that sounds good, what are you doing?”

Olivia snapped, “If you don’t know who I am, you don’t need to know who I am.”

I smiled wryly.

Her mouth twisted into a sneer and she gracelessly recited her IMDB credits.   I thought, the problem with you dear Olivia…you have no poise.

Chatted with a woman called Suzanne from Hidden Hills whose daughter was dating the most delicious boy.  A singer and guitar player.  A feast for the eyes.

I hadn’t realized that my great friend Manu is married to the gorgeous Kim Raver.

Totally adored Zach Quinto who, of course, we saw in Angels in America.  We talked AIDS, his new film, his producing.  That boy is a fucking star.

Fell in ‘boy love’ with Jason Ritter.  Those eyes…those beautiful blue eyes.

I flirted with boys.  Michael chased girls…we had a blast.

We left at 7ish for a fish and chip dinner with Henri then home to the coyote infested garden.

Robby booked his first big commercial this weekend so am dying to hear all about it.

Tracy Emin, the crazy talentless British ‘artist’ has been adopted by the Tory party and has dinner with Prime Minister Cameron.  WTF?  Her work installed at 10 Downing Street.  Her ugly mug pressed onto Cameron’s flacid pink cheek.

Aaron, my happy-go-lucky NYU side kick and sweet friend met me for breakfast at Veselka.  We ate scrambled egg and sausage.   I had the Chinese brew to fortify me.

We walked to The Bowery, stopping in at the Bowery Hotel for a nose before heading to the New Museum where I bought an ‘artists membership’.  We made our way to the 5th floor by elevator to the education suite then walked down the elegant stairs from gallery to gallery.

George Condo:Mental States.  George, never a great favorite of mine.   Too prolific.  Too gimmicky.  Unfocused.

I was wrong.

I actually really loved the great wall of work on the 4th Floor.   A huge salon type hanging, magnificent, bold and confronting.

I adored the Queen paintings, loved the monochrome line paintings, loved the magnificence.

Perhaps he deserves the great wall of work?  Few artists do.

Salon hanging?  What’s that?  You may well ask…

The Salon de Paris, established in 1725, was the official art exhibition of the Académie des Beaux-Arts in Paris.

Between 1748–1890 The Salon de Paris was the greatest annual or biannual art event in the Western world.

Called `Salon hanging´or `Petersburger hanging´ pictures of all sizes are hung closely side by side and above each other, sometimes in several rows from the ground to the ceiling with no obvious curatorial rational.

This exhibition style was fashionable until the first decade of the 20th century when curators and academics like Julius Meier-Graefe suggested a more reduced and conceptual hanging method – leading to the gospel of the`white cube´.

Salon hanging never disappeared completely.

Nowadays curators choose it from time to time for specific presentations like the upper gallery of the George Condo show.

The lower gallery showed the work of Lynda Benglis.  I enjoyed this unusual, eclectic show presenting mostly work from the 1970’s.   I will go back and look at it more closely next week.

My great friend Maury Rubin has one of his very popular Bird Bath bakery/coffee shops at the New Museum.   We drank his coffee and ate his pretzel croissant.

On the way home we stopped in at Salon 94 to see the remarkably over priced work of SoCal photographer Katy Grannan.

I was moved by the video installation in the basement, by far the most interesting work in the gallery.

The woman who plays Marilyn Monroe lived near me in Hollywood and I would see her daily, pulling on her tatty wig, wearing her sad, soiled, Seven Year Itch dress, pan handling outside Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.

If the picture of her as you enter the gallery wasn’t so absurdly priced I would have bought it.  The best thing about this show is just how much dignity art has bestowed upon these little more than fancy dressed vagrants.

The gallery boy…Jacob.  So sweet.   Worth going back for.

Later, Dan and I headed up town to see a preview of The Motherfucker With The Hat.  A very poorly staged, almost televisual play about Alcoholics Anonymous starring Chris Rock and that guy from Station Agent.  There were some good lines…when you could hear them.

The problem with these ‘actors’ from TV is that none of them can project.  All of them perform from their throats and I predict none of them will have a voice by the end of the week.

Live performance in a theatre (without a microphone inches from the mouth) needs technical training and rehearsal.  None of their voices were warmed up.  Consequently, many of the adequately written lines were lost.

Odd listening to a play about sobriety.  Odd.

Dinner at Italian restaurant.

Met up with Aaron and Woody and ended up at Bedlam on Ave C where Bravo’s Andy Cohen (of all people) was ‘spinning’.  Met Dana and her hot friend Matt who has a web site called www.fridaypuppy.com.  Had a great time.   Many intriguing men to chat with.

In bed by 3am.  I drank 4 (not very good for me) Red Bull.

I love New York!