December 15, 2002
Cannibal Flower
by Sabrina Cognata
After copious attempts to get back to writing for my lovely editor, Michael, he finally tossed Cannibal Flower my way. I looked into it, said, "yes please," and the rest is, as they say, history. Cannibal Flower thrusts itself into the artistic abilities and sensations of Angelinos.
The people behind Cannibal Flower weave together the different distinguished medias of video, art, and music to appeal to the multiple senses of the spectators. Cannibal Flower's nomadic art gallery status sets it aside from other art exhibitions as it throws variations of this nouveau artsy fair opening monthly, around Los Angeles. Hidden in an abandoned bank, the exhibit exploded in piercing flashes of light, sound and pictures. The exhibit can deftly be described as an acid trip in reverse.
In the early 20th Century 453 Spring Street in Downtown Los Angeles housed the Crocker Bank Tower. The building, designed by acclaimed architect John Parkinson, fulfilled the aesthetic requirements to establish a feeling of a secure banking experience. In other words, people hoped the pretty building would placate people with the chance the United States could hit hard times. Kind of like the way Las Vegas distracts people with "pretty lights" while they rape you of your life savings. Today, the former bank is no longer used to store money, but exhibit art.
The lobby of the defunct bank was used to host the event. Upon entering the area your eyes meet with strobing lights projecting a collage of colored images onto a screen. This exhibit, Eyeonsphere, digital media by Michael Allen, probed the initial interest of the spectator.
As these flashing images stirred my frontal lobe I became immersed with my environment, a hapless victim of over stimulation. I quickly realized I was a component of the exhibit. The whole room danced around me in a spectrum of light, sound and color. The arriving attendees, some costumed, pranced from painting to painting, inhaling each stroke of the artists genius. Art was everywhere. It was alive. It was the paintings and it was the guests attending the opening. Each piece worked to push the viewer into extending themselves into deep, contemplative thought.
The shows featured artists Shannon Crawford, Brett Gilbert, JC Jaress, Michael Allen, and Sarah Welker. Jaress introduced his interactive exhibit from the heart of a vault hidden away in the defunct bank. On a projection screen five separate picture boxes illuminated. Each box contained many pictures that could be changed. The viewer picked which pictures were most appealing to their eye and the work was printed. Every piece was signed and titled by Jaress.
He watched as people reluctantly entered the vault to discover the secret of his work and then continued to play with their minds with comments like, "Look, it titled itself!" He said customarily the artist puts together the puzzle of the composition and the viewer takes from it various meanings depending on the person and their life. But with his interactive project the viewer becomes part of the artistic process.
The results of Jaress's innovative exhibit left haunting results for the viewer to review. When I looked at my own I couldn't help but feel impacted by the title Jaress gave it, "Recycled." On some level you ponder whether it carries any validation, or if it was just some name he pulled out of his ass. At any rate, it was a splendid addition to Cannibal Flower.
Cannibal Flower provides artists with risqué work a place to showcase their talent. Erotica artist Eban Lehrer enthusiastically interacted with viewers. He said, "I enjoy hearing what people have to say about my work." His painting, "Satin Veils" portrayed a woman's vagina as she masturbates. Lehrer said he is perplexed by the "backward perceptions" of sexuality and violence in the United States. "It's ok to see someone murdered on television, but it's wrong to see a woman's breasts." He went on to say the flower is the vagina of a plant. He asked, if people can admire a plant why can't they admire a vagina.
"I totally had a blast," said Jean Paul, one of the key figures behind the production of Cannibal Flower. "I got to dress like a pink gorilla for the first time in my life." Paul came in costume to the show, an option strongly recommended, in the name of living art. Paul said the turn out was a little smaller than usual but the results of the show were splendid as always. "I thought the work was just great," said Paul commenting on the totality of the event.
Cannibal Flower organizer Michele Waterman started the event late in the summer of 2000 after dealing with the overbearing politics of typical galleries. Cannibal Flower opened its arms to all divisions of the art world. Its immediate popularity prompted a strong devoted following, attracting the interest of well known artists and performers, as well as newcomers who are looking to develop a reputation for themselves. Cannibal Flower's website states, "Our attitude towards artists being that if they are dedicated to what they do they deserve a chance to show it." Their commitment to art and dedication to having an art show that doesn't give precedent to big artists with established careers testifies to this philosophy.
Each of Cannibal Flower's art shows distinguishes itself from the previous. No two have been the same. Cannibal Flower administration said their success comes from, "the eclectic atmosphere of (their) events." Spectator Kathy Pavino said this was her first Cannibal Flower experience. "I really enjoyed the art," she said. "I also dug the atmosphere. I know I'll come back to their next exhibit."
A portion of the proceeds from each Cannibal Flower event goes to an AIDS relief fund. MANAPCA, a Guatemalan AIDS project, is the philanthropy of choice for the people responsible for Cannibal Flower.
