COVER STORY : COMMENTARY : The City, the Riots, the Creative Response: Not a Pretty Picture

It’s only logical that the arts would assume an important role in this city’s attempt to recover from the trauma of last spring’s urban uprising. After all, by the time Los Angeles imploded in a fiery rage of self-loathing, every other avenue of intellectual and social expression had been proved bankrupt. Local government, academia and religious institutions were all seen as incapable of providing direction, much less solace.

So, in very real terms, all that was left was art--and the hope that some perceptive interpretation of our collective anxiety still might soothe fears even as it pointed toward a new and more responsive social order.

Local artists have already begun to synthesize precisely that sort of vision. They have initiated what is likely to be a long search through conceptual rubble, trying to make sense out of the chaos. And, already, they have offered us valuable insight.

For example, it is a common misperception that last spring’s burning, looting and beatings were purposeless violence dissociated from anything else going on in our culture. Art has disclosed a deeper truth: that the riots were simply a street version of the disorder that exists at higher levels of society. What we saw on television during the unrest was just the grossest reflection of rage and corruption rampant throughout every strata of our social structure. Triggered by an especially inflammatory verdict, the anarchic impulse finally trickled down to the most powerless and disaffected among us.

Artists have attempted to make that truth apparent, not by stating it but instead by creating an environment in which we can discover it for ourselves. In the process, what was once seen on the surface as absurd and meaningless behavior becomes logical, if still offensive, to many Angelenos.

From what quarter have these artists come? And how has the production of their work been funded? The answers say a lot about the future of art in Los Angeles, whatever its focus of concern.

When we speak of the arts in Los Angeles, a clear distinction has to be made between art itself and the arts Establishment that makes critical decisions concerning its presentation. Furthermore, in this city--as in most others--the arts management Establishment is not a single homogenous entity. At the most obvious level there are two key elements.

First, there are the large institutions like the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, the J. Paul Getty Trust and the Music Center, which represent the mainstream and what is often referred to as “high art.” Second, there is the community arts network, much of which has coalesced largely around one government agency--the City of Los Angeles Department of Cultural Affairs. Each of these establishments has had its own all-too predictable response to the riots and the resulting disease.

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The major institutions’ response has been practically nonexistent. Despite the fact that the greatest civil disturbance of the last century just took place on their home turf, the leading arts brokers of this city seem completely unmoved. Have they already forgotten the problem? Or did they actually fail to see it in the first place? Either way, their current attitude is best exemplified by the public pronouncements that have surrounded the recent appointment of LACMA’s new director, Michael Shapiro.

In announcing the selection of Shapiro, the trustees who spoke on behalf of this mostly taxpayer-funded museum virtually ignored cultural diversity or whether or not the museum might play in healing a city torn apart by an unprecedented series of tragic events. It was as if the helter-skelter of the rioting never occurred. Instead, they made the usual noises about fund-raising and incremental change. Shapiro did make a token comment about purchasing more Latin American and African art. But, given LACMA’s abysmal track record toward the Latino and African-American communities, and the symbolism of Shapiro’s personal predilection for Frederic Remington’s work, no one should expect much from the change in leadership at the museum in terms of the current crisis.

Unfortunately, local community arts institutions have not done all that much better. Under general manager Adolfo V. Nodal, the Cultural Affairs Department has explicitly responded to the riots and their aftermath through its Arts Recovery Program. A laudable concept launched immediately after the disturbances, the program has attempted to reach out to new organizations and artists. But, like most of the department’s grants programs, there is a social welfare tinge to the new effort.

Most awards tendered through Cultural Affairs are for small amounts of money and seemingly have less to do with art than with soothing the aches of aggrieved social groups and their self-appointed representatives. Often criticized for making artists tailor their proposals to the city’s purposes rather than allowing artists free rein, Cultural Affairs money comes with a lot of strings attached. By the time artists finish jumping through all the requisite hoops, their projects are watered-down versions of the original. In fact, the real creativity is coming up with something that stands a good chance of being funded and investigating whether or not an enemy is on the selection panel.

In this context, it is no surprise that the work that says something meaningful about what happened to this city has been (and will be) made independently of the arts Establishment. One such effort is the special issue of High Performance magazine, “The Verdict and the Violence.” There are some perceptive and moving pieces in this collection, and those involved deserve serious attention. Nonetheless, it seems as if more time is needed before a definitive take on the situation can be created.

When that happens, I have no doubt but that the pragmatists among us--those too intellectually sophisticated to believe in the ineffable power of art or too personally devastated by the violence of last spring to care--will reject the proposition that art can heal our riot wounds.

Yet despite their disbelief, the visual arts will show us how to look simultaneously at the violence and the alienation which gave birth to it. Theater will startle us with a glimpse into the conditions and circumstances both inside and outside the damaged areas. Performance art will shovel meaning out of the disaster by turning language and gesture upside down, a perfect reflection of what’s gone wrong with Los Angeles.

Granted, not every attempt will be successful (there are as many charlatans in the art world as there are on Christian television and at least an equal number of well-intentioned no-talents). But at its best, some true art will be done and it will be transformative because the audience will walk away changed. Those in attendance will not have escaped the world but will have found a relationship or continuity between the lives they live and the work they witness.

How can you prove this notion of art as transformation? In the end, only by the experience of it. Beyond that, art and the change it engenders are articles of faith. You either believe or you don’t. It’s like the Hopi Indians, who maintain a year-round ceremonial calendar not just for themselves, but for all the world. If the ceremonies and dances were to cease, the Hopis say that all life would cease with them.

Could such a supposition be true? Almost certainly the Peter Ueberroths and Tom Bradleys would shrug off the idea as intriguing, if a bit ridiculous (and perhaps they would be right). Yet for those who do believe, the skepticism of others is irrelevant.

Perhaps art is like that. You either believe in its efficacy and power, or you don’t. For those who have experienced true art and been affected in the process, the world is changed. Is it too much to imagine that once it has been altered for them, it has changed--if only infinitesimally--for us all?

In any event, as we believers keep the faith and wait for the play, operetta, poem or painting that will connect it all for us, we should keep in mind that Los Angeles is simply a metaphor for our time. The upheaval happened here first, but this entire country is in trouble. It’s not only we in Los Angeles who need to recover from a wounded psyche. A spiritual and emotional recovery is desperately needed throughout all of America.

What does make Los Angeles special at this particular time is the fact that we still have a chance to enlarge our cultural consciousness in a way that transcends the constraints of Western tradition by including a cross-cultural perspective. If art is ever to make a claim that it can present the truth, then this is the time and the place to take its stand. We are at a crossroads and many are watching. Let’s hope that the arts here do not flounder and lose this historic opportunity to make their mark.