Downtown Art and Music Brought Out from the Underground
Ed Fuentes
DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES — Inside Red Dot’s café, “The Parties, The Punks, The Past, The Present" had a civilized panel of artists and former club owners talking about Downtown’s punk past without the sentimentality of reminiscing. Both speakers and audience shared the comfortable air of lounging in a familiar restaurant, talking about the events of the night before. The event, sponsored by the Downtown News and LA36, featured Downtown underground pioneers Richard Duardo, Paul Greenstein, Regina O'Brian, Lili Lakich, and Judith Markoff Hansen. All brought stories from the inside of Downtown L.A.’s art and music inner circle from the late 70s to early 80s.
That was the Downtown where artists and musicians occupied lofts and storefronts, filling them with art happenings, concerts and gallery shows. Some became club owners and managers to offer a place for politics, community, music, and an unlimited selection of beers. As expected, the memories were strong while the dates were fuzzy.
Artist Richard Duardo spoke about his initial 5000 square foot space. His silk-screening studio took up only 200 square feet, allowing him to convert the rest into a venue until “The riot police would come and shut it down." Later, a reputation for art shows pulled in a small crowd that was attended by Andy Warhol and Basquiat. The venue was Power Tools, named after the fading sign on the side of the warehouse.
Regina O'Brian grew up in Orange County and had fond memories of Los Angeles from her “teenage mind.” She said “People used to meet at 'Power Tools' and the art scene was really growing." She opened Plastic Passion as a magnet for creative experimentation, based on NY clubs she visited.
Before opening Gorky's, Judith Markoff Hansen was a librarian and with little experience she was booking acts in between making muffins: “I was frazzled, but it gave a place for alternative thinking," she said, before fondly recalling how the beer preferences of the athletes in town for the 1984 Olympics allowed the staff to know where they were from.
Lili Lakich, who has owned her art studio at Traction and Hewitt since 1980 recalled that, “In 1992, the people stopped coming because of perceived fear of the riots. They didn't happen downtown but people weren't coming anymore.” With a changing music scene, MTV, streets growing dangerous from increased narcotics and cuts in social services––or as one panelist mumbled “It was Reagan.” Still, there were no bitterness that the punk and narrow-tie Downtown music scene eroded, and the gigs closed.
After the discussion, Weeneez looked like the backstage of a small downtown club, with people talking over each other, and club veterans grabbing a hot dog before escaping into the night. Panelist Paul Greenstein, who picked the music for the Atomic Café’s juke box and handled booking chores at Madame Wongs, shared with blogdowntown that the idea of clubs playing music wasn't new, but being it being done independently of record companies and promoters was: “It was only thing we created was putting it in the hands of amateurs."
Just as eloquent was a brief exchange during the panel that must have been replayed over and over in the early morning hours of Downtown. Regina leaned over to Judith to whisper “We loved going to Gorky's. Thanks for being open." Judith replied with a scholarly smile, “Thanks for coming."
Anthea Raymond directed the discussion, and LA36 will broadcast it at a later date.















David Kennedy on February 21, 2008, at 02:13PM – #1
Gee, this event sounds as if it wasn't as interesting as I'd hoped. I was itching to attend, but unable to. It sounds as if the proceedings were quite dull. I was looking forward to reportage with lurid details of manic performances, odd-ball characters and inspired art. Disappointing.
If anyone knows if there's a podcast of the event or commentary elsewhere, please share.
judith markoff hansen on February 23, 2008, at 08:30PM – #2
Sunday afternoon at Weeneez brought back a lot of memories but left out was mention of a really important part of the downtown scene, the Wallenboyd Theatre and its initiators Scott Kellman and Alex Wright. They were both committed to developing a real downtown theatre world by bringing in new talent and setting up workshops. Scott died a couple of years ago and is greatly missed. If the world was more perfect a downtown street would be named after him.
Ed Fuentes on February 24, 2008, at 05:24PM – #3
David:
There were some of those stories as well, but as usual I was struck the sense of community that Downtown had. It was a change from the usual stories from this era that would be enough to film "Decline of Western Civilization, Part 3."
Since it was being taped and arranged for LA36, the panel used a tone for possible broadcast.
Even punks mature. The ones who didn't are likely not around anymore.
Judith:
I encourage you to write down what you know, and pass it along.
Hollywood Poetry on March 30, 2008, at 05:19PM – #4
I hung out with my friends at Gorky's and sometime later worked for Judith at her American Artes shop on Colorado Blvd. in Pasadena. These people tend to cut a fascinating jigsaw through a city's or era's history, creating spaces for all of us to breathe in.
Pasadena was like L.A., windswept and precise, where one expected to look around the corner and see both the "running of the bulls" and a lone artist, happy with a thousand blank tomorrows.
I wanted to do a documentary on Judith but she said her friend was already making one that included her. I think it was about 5 women in L.A. who had done something to vitally change the social landscape. Tell her friend I would really like to see it.
Juanito on March 30, 2008, at 11:46PM – #5
Downtown and a thousand not so blank yesterdays: the degree to which James Doolin thoroughly captured the place with his aerial perspectives of it's mid-century days. That young artist who died out in Malibu, a death that rocked the downtown colony to it's core.. Yeah, the one who got pigs heads from Grand Central, for his subject(s?). You could see him on a late afternoon on Second street chatting up a proprietor. Then he'd amble off east; you'd think he was heading back to his space and wonder which building he was in. That was a quarter century or more ago. Borofsky is now 65. To see his and Red Grooms' work together in 1985 was more than primal. There were no adjectives to describe what was purported to be a carnival at the Temporary Contemporary. Not that year or in any since. She was born in 1949, became Alexis Smith at 17 and never met a fender she didn't like.