I'm in los angeles this week, so I'm thinking of going to an exhibition of Ed Rusha prints out in
Pasadena. I've been reading a book about west coast pop art in the sixties, so it seems like the thing to do. Rusha and co positioned themselves as art studs prowling the streets and strutting amidst the storefront signage. Instead of subverting popular California stereotypes, the sixties pop scene opted to embody them. Yes, surfers, motorcross, swingers, wanderers, shallow pleasure seekers, sure, we're all of those things and we're also incredibly talented serious artists. In addition to all of our gallery work, we're going to hang out, make it look dangerous, and let Denis Hopper document it all on 35 mm. We're going to take huge blocks of ice and build igloo walls in the middle of parking lots across l.a. in the summer of 1967. Hey Andy Warhol, Roy Lichtenstein and all you boring new york pop art dudes: WHAT THE HELL DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?