Best Of :: Arts & Entertainment
While we blast The Orange County Register at every opportunity (because they're so weak sauce), the sole department we continually praise is its sports team, which produces one of the best sections in the country. From its beat reporters to columnists (especially with the recent addition of longtime Los Angeles Times crank T.J. Simers) to editors, it's a Murderer's Row of scribes, yet none is better than Olympics and investigative reporter Scott M. Reid. In just the past two years, Reid's reporting has brought down lifetime bans on gymnastics and swimming coaches for their perverted ways and looked into how the fearsome Zetas drug cartel infiltrated the Los Alamitos Race Course, all while covering the Olympics, gymnastics, swimming, even the stray football story with crisp, engaging writing. Our only beef with Reid isn't his fault—most people can't read his stuff or that of his colleagues because of the damn Register paywall—but his writings are such a must-read that we don't mind stealing our neighbor's sports section, just like how we used to do in junior high, to read his prose whenever it appears.
Tired of the kids making a mess as they play fort in the living room? Take them to this miniature city, all within the confines of an industrial park building, and let them make a mess there. Kids from infants to 8-year-olds will go wild as they debate Obamacare in the mini-doctors' offices sponsored by Kaiser Permanente; perform an avant-garde play in the small theater; farm plastic fruit and vegetables with rakes and baskets; create a masterpiece at an art studio; build stuff while wearing goggles and orange vests at the construction site; go fishing and build boats at the marina; shop at a tiny Ralphs; go to the beach, where there are lots of sand and buckets and beach chairs—wherever their imaginations take them. It's a living hell if you don't have (or can't stand) children, but an educational, relatively cheap excursion that helps build an active interior life in your child. Better than a night at Chuck E. Cheese.
Last time we visited BC Space in Laguna Beach, we got a personal tour after the closing of the "Capital Crime$" group exhibition. Several pieces had been removed already, leaving sad, empty holes, but photographer/political activist/gallery owner Mark Chamberlain filled us in on what was missing, walking us through what was left. Art is everywhere once you climb the stairs—in every corner and every room. Even the bathroom has something to look at while you're doing your business. The money Chamberlain makes as a commercial photographer subsidizes the tough, topical, completely non-commercial work hidden in the upstairs gallery . . . all in a shopping area of downtown Laguna where you wouldn't even notice it if you didn't know it was there. And now you do. Per the website, "Gallery hours are irregular and event driven, but appointments for viewing may easily be arranged by contacting the gallery." Call now.
While the Laguna Art Museum continues to give it a run for its money each year, the Orange County Museum of Art's first exhibition of 2013—"Richard Jackson: Ain't Painting a Pain," curated by Dennis Szakacs—was so amazing it nailed the honor this year in mid-February. Exhilarating, thoughtful, angry and subversive, it's a travesty Jackson's fantastic body of work didn't get one of these earlier. The museum's second exhibition—curator Dan Cameron's downsized and retitled "2013 California-Pacific Triennial"—is just as adventurous, offering people walking through its doors a veritable roller-coaster ride of art from the Pacific Rim.
Did you know there's a Joan Miro-cast bronze statue in the lobby of a Costa Mesa office building? Yeah, neither did we. But now that we do, we can't take our eyes off it. It's described as a "bird" by various websites, but we know Miro's work. The Spanish Surrealist was as obsessed with sex as we are. Take a long hard look at the statue. It ain't no bird.
Fox's mixed-media, socially conscious painting is heavy on black outlines separating figures from their backgrounds, his people often caught in a colorful nature scene at odds with the technology: umbrellas don't work, businessmen swirl down into whirlpools while still talking on cell phones, butterflies sniff at lost electronics, obese birds sit at the top of collapsing staircases. His 3D figures often lift and separate from their place on the canvases, rising above, possibly escaping. If we had a Kebe Fox coloring book as a kid, we'd be much cooler than we are now.