黑料不打烊

It’s unusual to find a gallery that doesn’t feel cold. A modern gallery's plain, utilitarian setup is so practical it’s almost clinical: white walls, concrete floors, harsh overhead spotlights. When combined with the all-too-common stereotypical energy of fine art sales – where business talk eclipses art analysis – an editorialist exhibition walk-through is often the lowest order priority. And rightfully so, at the end of the day, a journalist, photographer, or any other person invited to a press preview is simply an art lover, not a customer looking to make a purchase. But sometimes, a gallery visit is a back-to-basics experience where visitors get to geek out about work with gallerists who have a lot to say. Megan Mulrooney’s new gallery in West Hollywood, opening September 14, is where those natural, exciting interactions happen. It’s a refreshing reset for a gallery space that lost its magic.

Outside view of gallery. Courtesy of Maya Garabedian.

Writing that introduction before looking into the story of Nino Mier Gallery’s closure speaks to just how differently and intentionally Mulrooney is running things. She has taken over the space that once belonged to Nino Mier Gallery, her old place of work, where she served as Senior Director from 2018 until 2024 – leaving within a month of the bombshell report that shook up the Los Angeles art scene: Mier was found to have shortchanged artists on numerous occasions, charging collectors a higher price than what was reported to artists and pocketing the difference. Mulrooney, born and raised in LA, long planned to open her own gallery, and the closure of Mier’s gallery meant a lease was up for grabs. The space is perfect for showcases; before it served its gallery purpose, the space was used as a store and showroom, and before that, a theater, with an old marquee still out front. The gallery is a two-building operation, the marquee building on one side and a plant-covered building across the way.

Marin Maji膰, , 2024, colored pencil, oil color, and marble dust on linen. Courtesy of Megan Mulrooney gallery.

Part of the bubbly energy of the space is that it’s a female-run operation – the dynamic between Mulrooney and other team members, like Associate Director Isabella Miller, is infectious and inviting. Together, they show me around the inaugural show, Marin Maji膰’s Dawning, on view until October 26. Dawning is both the name of the exhibition and the overarching theme of all the included works, beyond the literal sense of dawn as a time of day. Figuratively speaking, there’s a sense of hope that lies in birth – Maji膰 just welcomed his second child – newness and reawakening, with all the possibilities offered in transformative times. A New York-based artist, Maji膰’s personal changes parallel the timing of national change, with sociopolitical tensions high, an upcoming presidential election, global change, group gatherings, in-person work, and return to normalcy, at least somewhat, in a post-pandemic era.

惭补谤颈苍&苍产蝉辫;惭补箩颈膰, , 2024, colored pencil, oil color, and marble dust on linen. Courtesy of Megan Mulrooney gallery.

Maji膰’s process is fascinatingly complex. Inspired by photos of himself and others, old cartoons, and whatever else may speak to him at a given time, he first creates an inspirational collage to capture the essence of a forthcoming work. He begins with a colored pencil sketch, followed by a layer of oil painting and marble dust, sometimes including other substances like turpentine or wax to get the desired effect. Then, over the thick layer of paint and dust, he returns to colored pencils and uses them to etch into the work, revealing new details. At first sight, the faces of his subjects seem blurred, as if he’s asking you to place whoever you want into the scene. But then, Mulrooney invites Miller and me to join her in a crouched position, offering a crucial view that isn’t apparent in the pre-hung positioning on the floor. Maji膰’s faces are, in fact, quite defined and, at times, twisted and unsettling, a far cry from the blank-faced appearance that exists when a piece is viewed head-on.

惭补谤颈苍&苍产蝉辫;惭补箩颈膰, , 2024, colored pencil, oil color, and marble dust on linen. Courtesy of Megan Mulrooney gallery.

During my visit, the layout was yet to be finalized. Still, already, the worldbuilding is apparent: dawn, used in a literal sense, is more heavily featured at the show’s entrance, with pieces wrapping around the sides, often with one painting next to or across from another painting that shares similar elements (sunrise, sunset, cotton candy skies, ocean waves, sparkling reflections, scenes of natural architecture or partying). Miller describes the shared, recurring elements as “refracting moments of time,” as the undercurrent of all these works is memory and what it feels like to remember, to anticipate what’s ahead, to recognize that things may not be lost to change, but rather, become something different, and that can have its own beauty.

An example of companion pieces by Piper Bangs. Courtesy of Maya Garabedian.

Next, Miller takes me to the greenery-covered space across the way, where LA-based Piper Bangs has an exhibition, Fruiting Body, that features a series of oil paintings on linen and watercolors on paper. These companion paintings – the watercolor initial version of a piece and the final, large oil paintings, which depict the same scene, albeit with different levels of detail – are not hung side-by-side but are carefully positioned so that you can often place yourself in a key position that puts both pieces in view simultaneously. Her work has an Old Masters feel in terms of technique, with aptly-shaded still lifes and surrealism in the personification of the lumpy, abject pears in each piece. We make our way to a hidden door behind the original gallery space, where Saints and Poets is housed, a show curated by Jon Pylypchuk and is an eclectic mix of artists, many of which are also LA-based. Among the number of other positives, the gallery makes a point to highlight early-to-mid-career LA artists, which isn’t always an apparent mission of galleries in the area.

As one of the first exhibiting spaces of The Getty’s PST ART: Art & Science Collide, a massive, widespread exhibition series that will run until February 16, a visit to see Maji膰’s show, which is a part of the event, is worthwhile by itself. Once you consider the other shows you can see on the same trip and the experience of being with the women of the Megan Mulrooney gallery, a visit may restore your faith in the gallery experience.

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