No Papparazzi for the Thrashers, Please

[shanmonster]

Today senseic and I went to an installation piece by Steven Shearer at the Power Plant Gallery. The subject matter was heavy metal, with a particular and somewhat creepy focus on Leif Garret. Remember him? I barely do. I remember seeing him on the cover of plenty of Tiger Beat magazines, and all its pink, sugary pederast-pleasing brethren. When we walked in, our ears were assuaged and torn by loud metal music, but shortly after walking in, the music died.

The gallery is an antiseptic white--a strange counterpoint to the raucous colours, corpse paint, and leopard prints of the metalheads all over the walls. It clashed rather badly, as did the chic gallery attendants in their business attire. Only senseic and I seemed to be dressed for the occasion. We were both in full-fledged thrasher gear. My hair was brushed out huge in 80s style, and hers was long, lank and greasy in Norwegian death metal style. She was also sporting some Alice Cooper eye makeup.

Shortly after arriving, and while drinking on the sly from a water bottle filled with something not water-like, we started taking pictures. The show is primarily comprised of found art, with collages formed from hundreds of album covers and photos of metalheads and musicians culled from the internet. So imagine our surprise when we were asked not to take pictures of subject matter obviously not owned by either the gallery or the artist. Even still, we did get a few.

The artwork is gratifying and validating, since the fancy schmancy gallery types have approved it. Metal has become high culture. Or at least the idea of metal has become high culture. Why else would you find a photo of Ozzy Osbourne blow-drying his armpits in a posh gallery?

The one odd note would be the little shed set up in the middle of one of the galleries. It had a bright light shining from a crack in the door. But when I tried to open the shed doors, I found they'd been wired shut. I couldn't see anything through the crack. Would they be so brazen as to start a grow-op in the middle of a posh gallery? Why not?



After we'd worn out the exhibit in our own minds (more easily done considering how sweltering hot it was in there), we wandered back downtown, watched some skaters, and fruitlessly tried to find a happening club on a Wednesday night. We also went to a second hand music shop to find a CD by the Plasmatics, but were thwarted by both the clerk's assertion that we were looking for klezmer, and also by the fact that the store contained absolutely no Plasmatics. So we took the subway home, ogled some cute boys who were ogling us in return, then went home to listen to WASP and watch a Hungarian horror movie.

And how was your Wednesday?

Comments

[suzycat.livejournal.com]

Leif has never looked quite so wasted or so rentboyish!

[real-bethy.livejournal.com]

I thought the painting was of Shan at first!

[suzycat.livejournal.com]

Yes! Shan = The Metal Girl Leif Garrett.

[real-bethy.livejournal.com]

Ah, Klezmer.

I totally see the relationship between Klezmer and the Plasmatics.

Totally.

???

[suzycat.livejournal.com]

The Klezmatics? Who iirc are quite cool...

[momus.livejournal.com]

Ahhh Wendy O, never has a more graceful or refined woman ever ridden a school bus through a wall of exploding television sets.

[ltmurnau.livejournal.com]

I remember my younger sister was quite gone on Leif Garrett once. Later she developed an unhealthy fixation on Keith Richards; hardly an improvement.

Which Plasmatics album were you looking for? I've found them rather difficult to find. My cassette of Beyond the Valley of 1984 will fail me one day.

Tel me, was there some kind of pretentious artist's statement to explain the piece you are leaning against in the third picture ("placentophagic hunger internal necro infestation...")?

[shanmonster.livejournal.com]

That's not me. That's senseic. I'm in the second picture. And those are likely lyrics from a death metal song, or if not, then fake lyrics from a death metal song.

I didn't see any artist statement kicking around. And I wouldn't call the exhibit pretentious, although I'd say the gallery attendants had pretenses.

[shanmonster.livejournal.com]

I think she was looking for any Plasmatics. She didn't say any album in particular.