Jiwon Rhie slapping machine comprises a kinetic sculpture of a padded hand that swings around to smack you in the face
Photo: Scarlet Cheng
On the opening night of Spring Break, there was broken glass and a police vehicle in front of the art fair’s Culver City warehouse. No police officers were in sight, leading someone to suggest that it was a ruse to prevent parking there—this would have been in keeping with the upstart attitude of the event.
With around 90 exhibitors, Spring Break has entered its fifth year in Los Angeles. It was launched in New York 12 years ago, conceived of by Ambre Kelly and Andrew Gori as a fun alternative to the sombre commercial art-fair scene. Those who sign up are curators who want to put together their own presentations, artists who may not have gallery representation or a combination of both. In Los Angeles this year, at least one stand was put together by two artists—Alonsa Guevara and James Razko, who curated each other’s work.
The fair’s organisers like showing in different kinds of spaces, not just white boxes. Five years ago, when they started the Los Angeles fair, they were downtown. However, they always wanted to be timed to and geographically close to Frieze, which moved from Hollywood to Beverly Hills to Santa Monica. In conjunction with this last move, Culver City seemed to be a good area for Spring Break. “This way, people could traverse between Felix in Hollywood and Frieze in Beverly Hills then or now Santa Monica,” Gori tells The Art Newspaper. “We like engaging with the city,” he says, pointing to an arts district nearby.
Inside the red brick building the fair occupies this year, there are walls dividing exhibitors but hardly a white cube is to be found. “We discourage white walls unless there’s a purpose for it,” Gori says. “These spaces come with their own personalities.”
Most exhibitors have taken the cue. They paint their walls different colours, arrange comfortable seating, and hang out in the aisles to chat and invite people in. The curator Claire Foussard had her stand’s walls coated to look like cement, and Yiwei Gallery painted trompe l’oeil Doric columns to frame its space. Others created installations—Z Behl, Walker Behl and Tavet Gillson built an immersive, 3-D version of their board game, Storm the Capitol, a satirical look at 6 January 2021 that has already sold out online. Meanwhile, Hicham Oudghiri set up an entire tent where people can enter and presumably meet an oracle.
There is a stand curated by the actress Vicky Krieps with works by the photographer Anna Krieps (her sister) and the artist Stefanos Rokos. Vicky performed on opening night, as listeners stood or sat on the floor, enthusiastically applauding after each song.
One of the most memorable stands is Foussard’s, not only because of the cement-like treatment of its walls but also the two artists that she features. Angelica Yudasto has created ethereal drawings floating in layers of kiln-formed glass, while Jiwon Rhie has made a slapping machine mounted on an outside wall—a kinetic sculpture of a padded hand that swings around to smack you in the face. At one point, Rhie bends down to demonstrate, putting her cheek in line with the hand. “Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s very gentle.”