La Cienega Area

In America, the ‘60s meant Warhol and Pop. The movement was actually pollinated before that by London’s Beat movement in music, art and letters, and the photographs of Michael Cooper recorded it all. Cooper made a name shooting album jackets for the Rolling Stones and the Beatles. He also worked for art dealer Robert Fraser, whose gallery was the hub of the ‘60s scene in England. Symbol and product of those fast, fraught times, Cooper died tragically in 1973 at age 31.

His assistant has collected and salvaged the prints Cooper left behind to form a show of photos dated 1963-73, as well as a slick, salable portfolio with anecdotes by ‘60s luminaries. Perhaps because Cooper’s negatives laid in disuse for so long, or because Cooper was still a young, evolving photographer when he died, many of the black-and-white works have a rough edge and don’t arrest our attention for technical virtuosity. They grab us as gutsy, candid freeze frames of the pulse of an era: Bay Area poet Allen Ginsberg protests the Vietnam War; a youthful Dennis Hopper, isolated against black, is a sultry rebel without a cause; a young flaxen-haired David Hockney poses with a winsome boy.

There are countless shots of prankster Rolling Stones in eccentric garb. A photo of Marcel Duchamp, aged and ever cagey, is priceless, as are warm views of surrealist Rene Magritte. The ‘60s are big business today, but in spite of the posthumous hype one senses Cooper’s gentle creative spirit. (Earl McGrath Gallery, 454 N. Robertson Blvd., to Nov. 7.)