Staff Pick | Monthly Muse October 2020

I became obsessed with Agnes Pelton’s Alchemy from the moment I saw it. The “star” that first caught my eye is absolutely brilliant, literally. My interest in mysticism and the occult—particularly their symbols—drew me to the tarot-card-like composition of the work. The deep, velvety darkness of the background contrasting with the luminosity of the figurative forms beckoned me closer. The more time I spend with the painting, the more I see and the deeper my appreciation grows. It is difficult to talk about Alchemy because it evades easy categorization. It is natural and supernatural, historical and timeless, and exists as if perpetually in the middle of a transmutation.

Sebastián Vizcaíno Cortés
Community Engagement Assistant, Langson IMCA

Staff Pick | Monthly Muse September 2020

Seeing Red Riding Hood and Red Riding Hood (Wolf) in IMCA’s collection caught me by surprise and I was delighted to discover in Gerald Buck a fellow collector of fairy tales. These works by the Argentinian artist collective Mondongo make me feel a sense of wonder in the familiarity of the setting and connection to the girl in red transfixed by her thoughts. I am reminded of my childhood daydreams and growing up between two worlds. I was raised in Mexico City and Southern California in a perpetual state of transformation. Fairy tales were a magical way for me to cope. They can challenge power, speak to trauma, and transform a life. Today, living through a pandemic, these particular versions of Red Riding Hood and the Wolf make me happy.

Sofia Gutierrez
Associate Director of Education and Community Engagement, Langson IMCA

Staff Pick | Monthly Muse August 2020

I was struck by this painting by Tom Craig, first by its color and use of light—that pool of gold under the dust kicked up by the plough—and then by the quiet labor of the scene. I grew up in rural California and this moment reflects back to me the California I know: a California with the flavor of middle America, forgotten, overlooked, marked by this same kind of difficult and often lonely work. I’ve passed hundreds of times driving the 41 from the Central Valley toward my home in the mountains. This scene reminds me of Philip Levine’s poem “Our Valley,” in which “when the worst heat seems to rise from the hard clay / of this valley, you could be walking through a fig orchard / when suddenly the wind cools and for a moment / you get a whiff of salt . . .” I taste the salt in that dust cloud—is it dust, or the spray off an ocean wave, shrinking our state down, connecting coast to valley to mountain?

Remy Mason-Anselmi
Project Analyst and Executive Assistant, Langson IMCA

Staff Pick | Monthly Muse July 2021

George Brandriff’s Sunday Breakfast is a gentle and intimate painting. The softly-lit room is subdued, and my gaze is immediately drawn to the brightest and most colorful part of the painting —the comic section of a Sunday newspaper. The table, set with a cloth, utensils, and glass of tomato juice, beckons me to sit and eat breakfast. The work invokes a reminiscence of my childhood and a comforting innocence which I find profoundly appealing every time I return to it.

Jean Stern
Art historian and former Senior Curator of California Impressionism, Langson IMCA

Staff Pick | Monthly Muse June 2020

In the present state of the world, finding focus can be challenging due to so much uncertainty. Ruth Asawa’s iconic hanging sculpture Untitled offers contemplative respite, as well as provocative, poignant, and political commentary. The single strand of copper, methodically woven, creates an almost ethereal object. When I look at the piece, it evokes multiple interpretations—from a mandala for meditation to a womb-like shape symbolizing motherhood, to a vessel, simultaneously full and empty. All, however, are inextricably bound to the enduring image of the wire fences at the internment camps where Asawa and her family were detained during WWII.

Robert Plogman
Assistant Director, Exhibitions and Facilities Management, Langson IMCA