"What's New, Pussycat?"

I walk into “What’s New, Pussycat?” not really knowing the proper etiquette. My studio arts major roommate fervently begins to scribble detailed notes into her ultra-trendy notebook. Since I, for the life of me, cannot figure out how to turn the flash off my camera, I am stuck looking like one of those tourist oddballs that does not follow any social boundary. I may as well be wearing exposed black socks with sandals.

I have come to the Torrance Art Museum to see their exhibit “What’s New, Pussycat?” It’s supposed to be about how art in Los Angeles has developed, and the work spans from 1969 through 2010. However, the majority of the work comes from the 1990s and 2000s, which doesn’t make it as historical as I would have hoped.

I’m not an art critic, so I do not recognize any of the artists or the work, but my roommate tells me that many of the artists were really famous in the 1960s and 1970s. However, it isn’t the old work that’s on display, it’s a composition of work that was completed twenty years after the fact. I kind of start to feel like I’m watching VH1 and some washed up celebrity has a new series, an attempt to revitalize a fallen career. (Think Flava Flav) And now, in a different way, I’m watching these re-runs, but in art form. It’s not because I’m thoroughly enthralled, but because it’s just entertaining enough to where I feel content. Content, not excited.

Nothing about this exhibit really excites me, and for this I’m probably being too harsh. I don’t know a thing formally about art, besides the one art history course I took at LMU. I’m one of those girls who had a Van Gogh copy in their room in high school and thought it actually meant something.

Several pieces though, were actually interesting. While they were not breathtaking, I appreciated them because they offered some deviation from the status quo. One white and gold piece looked incredibly expensive, and when I read the materials used for its creation, I found that it was made with styrofoam and painted with the same kind of paint that is used on cars. It looked chic and modern, and was made with the same kind of material that pads my overstock.com deliveries.

The title of the piece is “Mercy.” Mercy for what or whom I ask? Initially I think it may be in reference to the environment; the artist is using recycled materials and therefore lessening his “footprint.” However, my sarcastic side soon emerges, and I chuckle to myself. What if he means to ask for mercy on the exhibit itself? Or specifically for this piece of art? Maybe he too knows that many of these artists are past their prime, and therefore I should have more compassion.

I can’t help but think these thoughts though. The exhibit is entitled, “What’s New, Pussycat?” Well, Pussycat, from the looks of things, not much.

--Hailey Hannan