Ray, Charles

Tore this out of Artforum yesterday and taped it up in my wall-less cubicle. Charles Ray is sort of the David Foster Wallace of artists to me. I saw his retrospective at MoCA in Los Angeles around the same time in high school that I was being centrifuged around and around inside of “E Unibus Pluram” and Infinite Jest. It wasn’t as door-off-hinges blowingly transformative of an experience as reading Wallace was, but it still scraped more than a few barnacles off my teen peepers. The Ray retrospective was one of three seminal art-viewing experiences I had in in high school at MoCA (and at their space down the street, the Geffen Temporary Contemporary). The other two: Richard Serra’s Torqued Ellipses and the Paul McCarthy retrospective.

Join me this month as I take you on a journey filled with countless additional asleep-at-the-wheel end-of-day oblique memory-comments about contemporary art I saw when I was seventeen. To subscribe, just click here to PayPal $90 to BeefWeakness Knee-Life Art Tours, just kidding, talk to you later,

Andrew

Not to mention: 4 years on, I still haven’t finished high-school pal Rimpletide’s fugging triumphant Charles Ray interview! And I call myself a BeefWheeler!

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