Susan Kandel

  • Susan Kandel

    I’M JUST WILD ABOUT MILENA MUZQUIZ AND Martiniano Lopez Crozet, the brains behind the casually absurdist, morphologically ambiguous entity that is Los Super Elegantes. Consider the Elegantes a theatrical extravaganza-cum-lifestyle, encompassing videos, CDs, backyard concerts—even studio visits, which are virtually indistinguishable from their super-freaky live performances (he’s in recovery from a Rudolph Valentino addiction; she does a Silverlake housewife like nobody’s business). What’s the proper follow-up to “Violé Moi,” their cover of Nirvana’s “Rape Me” intoned like a hymn, in French?


    JORGE PARDO’s house at 4166 Seaview Lane in Mount Washington has a view across the Hollywood Hills all the way to the Pacific Ocean, and it gets the sea breeze from noon to six. Conspicuously, however, the house has no front door, which is pretty much what you’d expect of a nearly 3,000-square-foot house that is also a work of art. This is not to say that there’s anything perverse or precious or theatrical or contrived about this brand-new, flat-roofed, redwood-clad, single-story structure. It is merely to note that the house Pardo built—and that Los Angeles’s MoCA is showcasing this fall,

  • Focus: Gary Hill

    Enchantment is the province of the image, and the image is never more enchanting than when it is unmoored, hovering in the indeterminate realm of fascination. In Gary Hill’s Between Cinema and a Hard Place, 1991, video monitors with their outer casings removed punctuate the dimly lit space like volcanic debris. Pastoral images move across the disembodied screens, as magical as the Romantic landscapes believers conjure from such tortured stones. The spoken text is from Heidegger. A fragment: “When the word is called the mouth’s flower and its blossom, we hear the sound of language rising like