Persuaded by James to go downtown (from where we lived so close in Echo Park many years) first time in five years (shocked at new residential skyscrapers we were told are including formerly homeless), to The Broad’s superb “Keith Haring” exhibition which I had otherwise intended to avoid (given what I knew would be a kind of “euphoric fear flashback” to the even-pre-AIDS rough-around-town NYC 70-80 years before we moved to LA when we then really did swing into ACT UP action). Glad I went but no nostalgia.
Photos by James Rosen
My gay identity having been forged in 70s Rome, then cemented in NYC, I don’t look backwards to the psychic effect of that strange time of GRID, gay related immune deficiency, which overwhelmed that ‘moment.’ Without presumption, I suspect similar sensations/reactions of Holocaust survivors/contemporaries lead to not denial but reverent silence.
In fact I was overtaken by a kind of “get me outta here” sensation, also as there’s a point where I don’t like the “museumization” of all that anarchic jazz around so much suffering, not to mention the gift shop-icization of Haring’s creations. Glad the wall message/explanations were right on, including references to Reagan’s ignorant defiance with his proto-“Make America Great Again” now Trumpitized, I guess. I just don’t need or want to be reminded.
But we then had a great late lunch at Ristorante Vespaio (The Dressing Room) including nice conversation with a young handsome waiter who sweetly made sure to tell us he and his “wife” have been together eleven years.
P.S. The highlight of the excursion was that on emerging from the museum/restaurant we noticed a woman pushing a cart with a little unleashed chihuahua just in front. We had noted their presence hours earlier, fearing they were homeless.
So, as we motioned to the pup the woman said: “Go ahead, pet him.” We did. This led to a wonderful conversation about all of our dogs and her 30 years as a worker in downtown jewelry district, living in one of the more recent high-rises there on Grand Ave. Then on to common understanding of Latin language and her having grown up in Australia, with a recently deceased aunt who was a Catholic nun. Just 59 years young, she made this 71-year guy feel lots younger.
I know, I know, I have to get out and about more often…