Sculptured Pecs in Malibu; Getty Villa's Roman Statues & Outdoor Garden

Closed in 1997 for 9 years, the Getty opened its Italian villa doors again in early 2006. After multiple last-minute attempts to check out the Getty Villa, we finally got our act together and called a week in advance for tickets (they're free but attendance is limited with tickets only good for certain time slots each day.) I gotta say, for how much fore planning it takes to get the tickets, I was a little underwhelmed by it all.

The grounds--a replica of an ancient Italian villa buried under the ashes of Vesuvius--are definitely a more fitting backdrop to view the largely Roman and Greek statues and artwork than the modern Getty Museum, but the meticulously clean and orderly villa lacks much personality. I was more interested in the gardens than the artwork and we joined the audio tour of the gardens. The individual headsets magnifying what the live tour guide was saying were great but the guide's information centered around Italian history more than what we were looking at, and we soon lost interest and broke off to view the gardens on our own.
The petite herb garden looked nice but would have been more interesting if it came with plaques highlighting the names and uses of the different plants and the main garden with a rose bush flanked reflecting pool and the sparkling Pacific in the far distance was picturesque but there were no benches to sit and enjoy the space. Overall, the grounds were pretty, but more in a faux-authentic, Disney-fied way.

Inside, the majority of the original artwork has been moved to the new Getty and the remaining art focuses primarily on Roman, Greek and Egyptian sculptures, artifacts and paintings.

The Getty Villa is one of those things that's been on my to-do list for a while, so I'm glad I checked it out but if you're curious on what it looks like without really wanting to be bothered to book advance tickets and drive up to the Pacific Palisades, the pictures here pretty much cover all the highlights of the Villa.

Getty Villa
310) 440-7300 for advance tickets
Tickets: Free
Parking: $10

Artsy Politics: Ronnie Conal's "No Spitting, No Kidding" Exhibit at Track 16 Gallery

I've been on an artsy kick lately (hitting up Bergamot Station, the Getty Center and John Lautner's architecture exhibit at the Hammer in the past couple of weeks), and also on a bit of a political kick (thoroughly into TV's presidential debate season), so I was excited to check out L.A. political artist, Robbie Conal's "No Spitting, No Kidding" exhibit opening at Bergamot Station's Track 16 Gallery this past weekend.

I wasn't familiar with Conal's work prior to the exhibit but was intrigued when I read a profile describing him as one of Shepard Fairey's inspirations and contemporaries. Apparently, Conal has quite a following; several hundred people--a good mix of older, serious artsy-fartsy folks, casually curious art appreciators like me and black-rimmed glasses-wearing Westside 30-somethings--turned out for the event.

Spread throughout 5 large rooms in the 6,000 sq foot gallery, the exhibit is a retrospective showcase of his work over the past 25 years. The eye-catching collection includes large, goopy oil paintings of political figures with pithy slogans (my favorite is the above portrait of Reagan sandwiched between the words CONTRA and DICTION), smaller charcoal-on-canvas caricatures of iconic political personalities and splashy mural-sized collages skewering our obsession with pop culture (American Idol, Michael Jackon and even Alf and the smurfs get an artistic shout-out.)

I could explain the clever and visually arresting art pieces in more detail, but they say 5 pictures is worth five thousand words...





The opening reception invite touted a surprise musical guest by a "Hollywood Bowl" headliner. The amps and guitars set up in the corner clued me in it wasn't going to be the Philharmonic but I was stoked when L.A. Latin/hip-hop/punk band Ozomatli greeted the crowd. The surprise bonus concert capped off a great night of complimentary booze and conversation-starting artwork. Ozomatli played a breezy 6-song, 40 minute set, including a band-&-audience group serenade of 'happy birthday' to artist and birthday boy, Ronnie Conal. The fact that the high-energy concert was inside an art gallery--usually a venue that encourages hushed tones--made it even more fun. Even better was seeing the gray-haired art-crowd contingent enthusiastically bopping their heads to the punky, 8-piece band and grabbing flyers to the 2am afterparty at an undisclosed location in downtown L.A.


The exhibit runs through November 22nd. Whether you agree with Robbie Conal's political philosophies or not, his visually arresting artwork is worth checking out and a great excuse to visit the greatly underrated Bergamot Station art galleries.

Ronnie Conal "No Spitting, No Kidding" Art Exhibit
Track 16 Gallery, Bergamot Station
2525 Michigan Ave, Bulding C-1, Santa Monica
310.264-4678
Tuesday through Saturday, 11 AM to 6 PM

Whatever Floats Your Boat: A Session at "Floatation Location's" Sensory Deprivation Tank

Yesterday, I headed to Venice’s Floatation Location to redeem my gift certificate my friend Melissa gave me for a complimentary ‘float session.’

Although sensory deprivation water tanks are purported to be an ultimate relaxation inducer—their website lists benefits including alleviated stress, diminished depression and anxiety, released muscle tension, deep meditation and even freedom from habits, phobias and addictions—the Floatation Location is not for the pampered Burke Williams Spa attendee. Tucked away in a non-descript mini-mall along Venice’s beachfront walk, the bare-bones space has more of a vibe of a home office/reception area...but with two doors leading to a set of super duper bathrooms equipped with a shower and enclosed metal bathtub contraption.

Don’t let the grungy setting sketch you out; the tank is filtered, drained and cleaned after every float session, and the near ton worth of Epsom salts kills off any lingering bacteria from the previous floatee.

Owner Chris Rymarz greeted me and gave me the low-down; “you take off your clothes, shower off any lotions and soaps on your skin then go float in the tank.” He handed me a set of ear-plugs (to protect against salt-crystals in your ears after the water evaporates) and explicit instructions to keep my face dry (so the salty water won’t run into and sting my eyes or nose) and left me to it.

I had no idea what to expect (a coffin-like capsule? A giant dunk tank like at a fair?) but the float tank is like a regular bathtub enclosed in a 5ft-high metal contraption with a refrigerator door opening. I opened the door to find a dark but shallow bath.

I sat down in the 14” deep tub and close the door. Complete darkness.

Being inside a pitch black box is surprisingly not claustophobic at all, the darkness makes the space around you feel more vast and outer space-like than tight and enclosing. The warm water is only about a foot deep, but with 800 lbs of Epsom salts dissolved into the oxygenated water, I had the buoyancy of a cork; as a laid down, my limbs and torso automatically floated to the top. Lined with a black interior, it’s too dark to see anything and there’s no difference if my eyes are open or closed. With my ears half submerged underwater with earplugs, all I can hear is the sound of my own breathing (which automatically shifts to a slow, deep inhale, exhale) and my heartbeat.

Laying on top of water is really comfortable, but I’m a fidgeter so I rotated between the various poses Chris recommended; arms out to the side in a yoga Savasanah pose, arms bent by my head in a ‘hands up or I’ll shoot’ position and entwined behind my neck in a ‘reclining in a deck chair’ pose. Relaxing my mind took a bit longer, but I slowly embraced the nothingness and entered a calm, dreamy state.

Thoughts drift in and out of my head then soon, I feel ready to get out. I have no sense of time and worry it hasn’t been long enough (I want to get my gift certificate’s worth) but when I check the clock, I’ve been floating in oblivion for 70 minutes. I can still feel my achy, knot-filled shoulders and I'm pretty sure the float hasn't cured me of my bad habits, but I feel both super relaxed and refreshed.

It’s hard to explain the experience but the closest description is as if you were sleeping, but also awake so you can consciously enjoy the feeling of snoozing. Floating might not for everyone, but it's an interesting-enough experience to try if you want to block out the world for an hour or so.

Floatation Location
Hours Vary, call for an appt: 310 255-1905
$50 per session

Flying Pigeon, Crouching Dim Sum: Flying Pigeon's Dim Sum Bike Ride

The majority of my motivation to exercise is linked where my friends and I can dine out afterwards (I go to Runyon if I have a craving for Blu Jam Cafe's deliciously eggy-cheesy-bacony croissant sandwiches, feel like a sunset dinner at Reel Inn? Then, a hike and swim at Point Dume is in order, Din Tai Fung's juicy dumplings way out in Arcadia? Well, there must be a hike somewhere near there...)

This Sunday, I satisfied my craving for Dim Sum by joining Flying Pigeon Bike Shop's organized bike ride down to Chinatown for some chinese-style brunch. The newly opened store is located in Highland Park, an area so far away from my apt in Venice that I had to look up where that is (it's near South Pasadena), but at 9:15am on a traffic-less Sunday morning, it took Chrissy and I only 25 minutes to drive there.

Due to a mention on Daily Candy earlier that week, there were about 16 of us that showed up for the Dim Sum Bike Ride. The crowd was cool; no hardcore bike riders, just mainly Eastsiders interested in getting some fresh air and eating dim sum. Adam, the super-friendly and knowledgeable owner, hooked everyone up with a bike (free of charge, participants only need to pay for the Dim Sum meal.) The Flying Pigeon store is stocked with their namesake 'Flying Pigeon' bikes imported from China. These retro-looking, Cultural Revolution-era designed bikes are the most popular selling bikes in China (80 million sold and counting), and therefore, the biggest selling bikes in the world. They come in black, red, orange, yellow, pink and green. Set up fully loaded, the bikes are equipped with a sturdy bike basket, wheel lock, vertical kick-stand, a robust bell and a cool, battery-less bike light which gets activated by pedal-power. The bikes come with one speed but unlike beach cruisers, have brakes and a more upright posture. Being a 5'4 shorty, the 28" wheels were a teeny big for me, but that's what tippy-toes are for, and it was fine.

After a test-run in the back parking lot, we're on the road!
Avoiding major roads, we cruised along a bike route that took us along the Gold Line train, on a bridge overlooking the L.A. river and down through Chinatown. The easy-moderate bike ride took about half an hour--easy enough not to break a sweat, but long enough to make you feel like you earned the Dim Sum meal.

Flying Pigeon rotates their dim sum destinations weekly. This Sunday, we were headed to Empress Pavilion--one of Chinatown's most popular dim sum spots. They don't take reservations, but another perk of joining this Sunday's Flying Pigeon Bike Posse, is that the bike shop called ahead and made prior arrangements so instead of the typical 45 minute wait, we had a table waiting for us when we arrived. The zero wait is pretty much worth the bike ride alone. Dim Sum is unbelievably cheap and fast; waitstaff come around with carts of steamed buns, vegetables, dumplings, banana-wrapped sticky rice, bbq pork etc and diners can just point and order right then and there. Our gluttonous table pretty much ordered triples of whatever was displayed in front of us. Faves included the steamed bbq pork buns, shrimp har gao dumplings in rice paper, chinese broccoli and egg custard dun tarts. Our bill for twelve of us was just $11 each, including tip.

One long bike ride for the day was enough, so afterwards, we pedaled through Chinatown's art gallery alleyway, down the vendor-filled Olvera Street and into Union Station, where we got a train ticket ($1.25) to ride on the Gold Line back to Flying Pigeon. One of the perks of nobody using the public train system in L.A. is that there's no-one to complain if you can take up a whole carriage and load up a dozen bikes in the aisleway during the ride. The store is one block from the Highland Park stop so it was another 60 second pedal before making it back and returning our bikes.

The Dim Sum bike ride was a really fun way to explore the city by bike and by train (in this city, both are novelties in themselves) and as always, a good excuse to eat yummy food. Although you could replicate this on your own, it was fun biking in a group and less intimidating to be pedaling en masse on the streets next to speeding cars. It was also nice to have bike guides who've already mapped out and tested out the bike route for you, so instead of worrying about getting lost, you can just focus on not falling off your bike in public when making shaky turns.

Flying Pigeon does Dim Sum Bike rides every Sunday at 10am and plans to expand with other bike rides to Little Tokyo and nearby wine shops for some vino-tasting. Check out their website for additional details. No need to BYO bike, just your appetite.
Free! (They don't charge bike rentals, just bring approx $15 for Dim Sum)
Flying Pigeon Bikes: $299

Swingin' Times in Korea Town: Hitting Balls at Aroma Center Golf Range

I was uncomfortably naked the last time I was in Korea Town, but on a slow Friday night, Ugly Shoe and I decided to head that way to hit some balls at the Aroma Resort driving range in Korea Town. I've been here once before years ago and still remember it well as one of those cool and random, "I'm not in L.A." activities. That's because the driving range is on the forth floor of an unassuming office building--and you whack the golf balls over a parking lot, deep into the net-protected night sky.

Finding easy street parking right outside the building, we headed up to the 3rd floor elevator to the front desk area where we purchased a bucket of balls ($10 for 143 balls, perfect for sharing between two without getting our biceps too tired) and rented some clubs ($2 each.) There were plenty of serious golfers wielding their complete golf set of irons and woods but as a beginner, I was fine with the recommended 7 iron. We headed upstairs to the 4th floor to hit some balls!

We found an empty tee station among the row of elderly Korean and Japanese men seriously swinging away. I haven't gone to many driving ranges, but this spot seemed pretty high-tech. Instead of a literal bucket of balls, we were handed a punch card that you insert into a machine. The machine automatically tees up your golf ball (it emerges from a small hole by your feet--the height of the tee can also be controlled with a pedal by the golfer) after every hit. The machine also keeps a tally of how many balls you have left so there's nothing to cloud your mind except how to whack the balls as far as they will go. Or, in my case, just simply connecting with the ball.

Ugly Shoe was a pro, lining up his tee and hitting the ball way to the end of the 150ft long net in one fluid motion. After a few (well, many) false starts with 360 missed swings and badly-aimed hits leaving the ball to just dribble off the edge and fall into the net below, I finally got the hang and at least hit it somewhere in the 75ft range. Hitting the balls were fun but the surreal surroundings makes this above par (sorry, couldn't resist) over other golf ranges.

As you're lobbing your balls over the car-filled parking lot underneath, all you see is Los Angeles' open city in front of you; tall office buildings and palm trees silhouetted against the hazy-purple night sky--the panoramic view broken only by flying white balls hurtling through the dark night.

Aroma Resort @ Wilshire Center, 3rd Floor
3680 Wilshire Blvd (cnr of Wilshire & Serrano, two blocks E of Western)
Aroma Resort
$10 for 143 golf balls

Royal/T: High Kitsch High Tea

I've been wanting to check out Royal/T ever since I heard about the kitschy-weird cafe in Culver City with food served by Japanese girls in French maid outfits. When an old friend who's never been to L.A. came to visit last week, Royal/T popped up as a perfect venue to show my Kiwi friend an 'Only in L.A.' (and maybe Tokyo) experience. Set a few blocks east from the newly bustling downtown Culver City, the restaurant is easy to miss (despite the pink neon crown insignia and hedge-covered facade.) Upon arrival, we discovered it's actually more of a gallery/experimental space/shop/cafe shared within a spacious loft-style, communal space.

The current--and inaugural--exhibit, Just Love Me, is an exploration of all things cute, or, more accurately, "kawaii". So this means we were dining under paintings of Bambi-eyed animegirls, ceramic statues of cuddly Sanrio-esque aliens and Louis Vutton initialed art prints from famed pop-artist Murakami (who recently had his own exhibit at Moca). For sale were hipster-friendly items such as photobooks of Japanese trendsters in Gothic-Lolita garb, weird plush toys and of course, french maid dressed action heroines.

Like the Tokyo-pop style french maid costumes, the food is a mix of Japanese & French, with a bit of Caifornian thrown in. Lunch items were a mix of sandwiches (my friend Pip ordered the spicy tuna tar tar with avocado on sourdough$9.00), salads (such as yuzu shrimp with asparagus, tomatoes and avocado) rice bowls (I got the Royal/T curry rice with chicken $9.00)) and the Royal/T High Tea with tea, small patries, mini quiche, Kappa Maki, California roll and Spicy Tuna finger sandwiches ($19.50) Pip's sandwich looked good but I didn't love mine. I was expecting curry-flavored rice with chunks of white chicken'n'japanese curry gravy but got a bowl of curry sauce with a chicken drumstick and a side of steamed rice. They had interesting drinks such as watermelon juice, ginger lemonade and a selection of teas.

I don't know what it is about cute costumes, but everything did taste a little better when served by a Japanese maid, or, in our case, we also had a perky brunette sporting fake pigtail extensions. Although more Sanrio/Alice in Wonderland than fantasy-rated, our maids/servers were still a fun novelty, and super friendly, even obliging requests from the couple sitting next to us for a photo-op. I chickened out and covertly took a pic of the maid from behind instead.

Although the food's just okay, I wouldn't be opposed to going back to Royal/T, the gallery and store space is interesting and it's still a more entertaining alternative than Starbucks or Zen Zoo Tea for grabbing a cup of tea.

Royal/T
8910 Washington Blvd, Culver City
310/559-6300
Lunch with a drink: Approx $15

Lovin' High School Girls Who Stay the Same Age As You Get Older at the Drive In: Dazed & Confused Outdoor Screening

Apparently, I'm on an outdoor screening roll. Less than a month after my Hollywood Forever Cementary experience, I was invited to another screening event which--while not six feet under--was more of an underground affair.

This screening series--which runs every two weeks throughout the summer--is a combo of a drive-in (complete with audio piped in through car speakers and rollerskates'n'mini-skirted carhops) and a sit-in (a nice strip of astroturf is laid out for those who prefer to spread out on cushions and lawn chairs.)

A nondescript, rundown and total fire hazard of a rooftop parking garage served as the 'theater'. Upon the entrance ramp, viewers have the choice of driving up to the theater or parking downstairs if you want to watch sans car. Although I've never been to a drive-in before and was intrigued by commanding carhop service with the mere flash of my Prius' high-beams, we were meeting some friends so opted for the car-less, lawn-chair section instead.

Armed with enough blankets and cushions to recreate a harlem-style living room, we settled in at the front of the 'theater'. The featured film was Dazed and Confused so I was expecting to battle it out for blanket space amongst a legion of hipster stoners but the turnout was surprisingly--and pleasantly--small. There were maybe two dozen cars and about 80 people tops, sprawled along the astroturf in front of the screen.

Similar to the Hollywood Cemetery, doors open 90 mins before the screening starts and food and wine are encouraged, so there's plenty of time to pre-film tailgating. Too hungry for basic brie and crackers, we had picked up a Papa John's pizza along the way and downed our slices with red wine while simultaneously admiring the skyline silhouetted against the setting sun and wondering if the decrepid, adjacent apartment building was a crackhouse (while safe, the neighborhood had a level of sketchiness). For those not prepared with their own BYOPicnicking fare, rollerskating carhops are on hand to serve hotdogs, nachos and other snacks.

Promptly at 9pm, the projector--sitting on top of a vintage '50's Chevy--started whirling and the cult 90's film started. Dazed and Confused is one of those films where I've watched parts of it a million times, but haven't sat down to watch in its entirety in years. Viewing it in its full-screen glory is the ideal way to enjoy D&C's bam-bam-bam succession of quotable dialogue; for best line, it's a toss up between McConaughey's "Say man, you got a joint?...It'd be a lot cooler if you did." and Parker Posie barking "What are you looking at? Wipe that face off your head, bitch!"

Although the parking lot's cramped ramps would normally be a nightmare to navigate out of after the screening, due to the wonderfully small turnout, exiting the theater was a traffic jamless breeze.

There are several more screenings scheduled through September but although it's easily google-able, I did promise my pal who invited me that I wouldn't reveal too much info about the drive-in/sit-in theater if I wrote about it (yes, it's that great of an undiscovered L.A. gem). So sorry, no links to the screening series attached this time!