
You can step inside LACMA's new building months before opening during this Kamasi Washington performance
We've just crossed the year-to-go mark until the opening of LACMA's new David Geffen Galleries, and as promised, the Miracle Mile museum is offering a pretty unique opportunity to step inside the building's empty interior.
L.A. native, Kendrick Lamar collaborator and all-around saxophone wizard Kamasi Washington will headline three performances inside the new building this June—months ahead of its artwork-filled April 2026 opening. But he won't be alone: More than 100 musicians will be scattered across 110,000 square feet of vacant gallery space.
Washington's performances on June 26, 27 and 28 will tackle Harmony of Difference, a six-movement suite that he released eight years ago—but that's never been performed live in its entirety.
'I wrote Harmony of Difference in 2017 to celebrate the beauty of humanity's diversity through a metaphor of music,' Washington said in a statement. 'In music it is the combination of different notes, chords and rhythms that create beautiful songs. The same is true in life; most of humanity's greatest achievements came from the combined efforts of people of different backgrounds with different knowledge and abilities.'
Washington goes on to elaborate on the Geffen Galleries' unique acoustic properties; visitors will hear both the direct sounds from nearby musicians as well as the 'spirit' of other farther-away groups of performers.
If you want to check out the performance inside the Peter Zumthor-designed building, LACMA will release limited batches of tickets in three waves:
– May 2 at 10am ($60, LACMA members $48)
– May 22 at 10am ($75, LACMA members $60)
– June 12 at 10am ($100, LACMA members $80)
This won't be the only opportunity to step inside the empty galleries, though you'll need to be a LACMA member to take advantage of the others. The museum will hold a series of sneak peaks divided up by membership tiers: a reception for Partner-level members on June 29; Friend, Supporter and Partner-level on June 30; Individual and Dual-level on July 1; all levels from July 3 through 5; and NexGenLA members on July 6—that's the free membership tier for kids 17 and under (and an accompanying adult).
Back to the Harmony of Difference preview: I'll just add that it's worth seeing Washington perform live in just about any setting, but I happen to think stepping inside an empty museum—before walls and artworks forever alter the interior—is a one-of-a-kind experience for art and architecture lovers. A decade later, I still look back fondly on a sound-and-video installation staged inside the Broad months before it officially opened.
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The Guardian
10 hours ago
- The Guardian
Modern marvel or concrete ‘blob'? Inside LA's divisive $700m art gallery
As Los Angeles county's new $720m art museum building nears completion, it's still haunted by a single, vexing question: how do you hang art in a gallery where every single wall is made of massive slabs of concrete? Designed by Peter Zumthor, a prizewinning Swiss architect, the new building at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (Lacma) has sparked controversy in the art world since its initial designs were made public in 2013. The monolithic concrete structure, which has been compared with a freeway overpass and an 'amoebic pancake', was built to replace four older Lacma buildings, which were torn down to make room for the stylish newcomer. The building will hold a rotating selection from Lacma's permanent collection of more than 150,000 art objects from around the globe. The creation of the new gallery space has been marked by unusual drama and contention. One of Lacma's major donors publicly broke with the museum as a result of conflict over how the permanent collection would be displayed. The construction site, which borders the LaBrea Tar Pits, is famous for the ancient fossils preserved in bubbling tar. Building a gigantic concrete building on tar-filled land in an earthquake-prone region caused additional costs and delays: thirteen sabre tooth tiger skulls were uncovered during construction. As the estimated cost of the project rose by nearly $100m, Zumthor, the star architect, publicly distanced himself from the results, saying he had repeatedly been forced to 'reduce' his design, and that the experience had convinced him to never again work in the US. The building, which was initially conceived as an all-black structure evoking a tar pit or an oil spill, will now remain the raw gray of unadorned concrete. On Thursday, Lacma's CEO, Michael Govan, who has championed the divisive project for nearly two decades, gave an early tour of the new space to a group of journalists, including some who have publicly criticized the building's design. The building, named the David Geffen Galleries after its largest donor, will officially open in 2026. Outside, the structure resembles a gleaming dinosaur egg on squat concrete legs, with a long tail of a gallery that curves over Wilshire Boulevard, allowing visitors to enter on both sides of the street. Inside, the building is all hulking concrete surfaces and curving walls of windows that let in the southern California sun – a striking but controversial choice for a museum, since paintings and drawings are typically kept out of direct sunlight. Govan defended the wraparound windows as essential for giving the museum a sense of place; he wanted visitors to 'know you're in Los Angeles – these collections are in Los Angeles'. The CEO led a crowd of journalists into one of the gallery's multiple entrances, which is at the top of a daunting flight of concrete steps. The museum CEO loves stairs, he explained: the only exercise he gets is climbing Lacma building stairs and pacing while talking on the phone. As Govan walked the journalists through the sinuous galleries, he was energetic, full of quotations and anecdotes about Zumthor, his star architect. Zumthor was not there. Govan noted that the sleek leather benches in the sunlit galleries were only there as temporary place-holders: Zumthor had requested red-brown leather benches stuffed with duck feathers, which had yet to be installed. When asked to respond to the many criticisms of the project, the CEO was defensive. The 'whole idea' of the space 'was a new idea, right, so you can't – no one's ever experienced this before', he said. 'That is the spirit of experimentation. That proof will be in the final results – of whether it works, and how the public responds to it.' Opposition to Zumthor's evolving design had been fierce. Some of the most dedicated critics of 'the blob' hated it so much they held an alternative design competition and bought full-page newspaper ads in protest. But to Govan, his building is not just a new gallery: it's a fundamentally new way of experiencing art, an attempt 'to reinvent art history for the 21st century'. The space was designed to be 'non-hierarchical', Govan said. He did not want to organize the museum's permanent collection by time period or geography or type of art: he recalled telling Zumthor that 'I don't want anyone in the front.' In practice, this means that all of the gallery space is on a single floor, and the layout of the rooms is unpredictable and confusing to navigate. 'The building itself really avoids linear histories or linear paths,' Govan said. 'The remit was to make something that was more like wandering in a park, where you curate your own journey.' When the gallery opens in 2026, Govan said, the first show will be organized around the 'muse' of four different oceans, including a mix of Mediterranean art, and a Pacific collection that brings together California artists with those from Japan. Zumthor and Govan's vision has its prominent defenders. Brad Pitt showed up to a public meeting in 2019 to praise Zumthor's 'mastery of light and shadow', and spoke in favor of the new Lacma building for so long that an elected official told him to 'wrap it up'. Architectural Digest, in a preview piece in June, hailed the new building's 'curatorial provocations and challenges to the shibboleths of the art world'. But while the journalists on Friday's preview tour were polite, their questions made clear that the criticisms of Lacma's new building were not going away. The practicality of the concrete walls has remained front and center in the debates, including in a series of eviscerating columns by Los Angeles Times' art critic Christopher Knight, who won a 2020 Pulitzer prize for his critiques of a building plan funded in part by $125m in taxpayer dollars. 'How do you hang paintings on concrete walls?' Knight asked in 2019, calling the idea 'nutty'. He nicknamed Zumthor's building 'the Incredible Shrinking Museum', noting that the amount of planned gallery space in the new structure had shrunk throughout the planning process, resulting in a smaller amount of total display space than in the razed buildings it replaced. Asked again on Friday about how curators would hang art on the minimalist concrete, Govan was breezy: 'You can just drill right into the walls,' he said. 'It's very sturdy–you can hang Assyrian relief.' When they needed to change the exhibit, Govan said, they would simply fill up those holes and drill new ones. He noted that there were several patches on the walls already. Someone asked if constantly drilling and patching the walls would destroy the beautiful minimalist surface of the concrete. 'It's supposed to be like a good pair of old blue jeans that gets better with time,' the CEO said. And he believed in the new gallery's longevity. Earlier, he had said, buoyantly, 'This building could last 500 years.'

South Wales Argus
12 hours ago
- South Wales Argus
Must-see live gigs and concerts in Wales in summer 2025
2024 was a phenomenal year for music with the likes of Taylor Swift, P!nk, Foo Fighters, Billy Joel and Bruce Springsteen & E Street Band all performing at the Principality Stadium in Cardiff. But this year has the potential to be even better with more worldwide superstars set to make an appearance. Oasis On July 4 and July 5, Oasis will perform at their first concert since V Festival in Weston Park, Staffordshire on August 22, 2009. After over 15 years, the iconic brothers will officially reunite at the Principality Stadium. And if you're an Oasis fan, this might be one of the last opportunities you get to see the duo ever perform on UK soil. Stereophonics Less than a week later, Stereophonics will play on July 11 and 12 as part of their Stadium Anthem Summer '25 Tour with Blossoms as the supporting act. Originally from Wales, Stereophonics will remind Welsh fans of the talent they have on their doorstep. If you enjoy rock music, you would be wise to get a ticket for Stereophonics at Principality Stadium. Kendrick Lamar and SZA Also at the Principality Stadium, international superstars Kendrick Lamar and SZA will play on July 19 in their Grand National Tour. This is the first all-stadium tour for both artists and this show in Cardiff will be one of 39 the pair undertake across Europe and North America. Kendrick Lamar is widely regarded as one of the greatest rappers of all time while SZA has won five grammy awards – if that doesn't motivate you to go to a live gig in Wales, nothing will. Catfish and the Bottlemen The British indie rock band which was formed in Llandudno will experience their first ever headline stadium concert on August 1 at the Principality Stadium. The band are known for their energetic live performances having previously performed at festivals such as Glastonbury and Latitude. Catfish and the Bottlemen burst onto the scene in 2007 before being awarded the Brit Award for British Breakthrough Act in 2016 and then their second album, The Ride was released and debuted at number one in the UK Albums Chart.


The Guardian
18 hours ago
- The Guardian
‘A marker of luxury and arrogance': why gravity-defying boobs are back – and what they say about the state of the world
It was, almost, a proud feminist moment. On inauguration day in January, the unthinkable happened. President Trump, the biggest ego on the planet, was upstaged by a woman in a white trouser suit – the proud uniform of Washington feminists, worn by Kamala Harris, Hillary Clinton and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez in solidarity with the traditional colour of the suffragettes. In the event, the white trouser suit barely got a mention. The show was stolen by what was underneath: Lauren Sánchez's cleavage, cantilevered under a wisp of white lace. The breasts of the soon-to-be Mrs Jeff Bezos were the ceremony's breakout stars. The only talking point that came close was Mark Zuckerberg's inability to keep his eyes off them. Call it a curtain raiser for a year in which breasts have been – how to put this? – in your face. Sydney Sweeney's pair have upstaged her acting career to the point that she wears a sweatshirt that says 'Sorry for Having Great Tits and Correct Opinions'. Bullet bras are making a sudden comeback, in sugar-pink silk on Dua Lipa on the cover of British Vogue and nosing keen as shark fins under fine cashmere sweaters at the Miu Miu show at Paris fashion week. Perhaps most tellingly, Kim Kardashian, whose body is her business empire, has made a 180-degree pivot from monetising her famous backside to selling, in her Skims lingerie brand, push-up bras featuring a pert latex nipple – with or without a fake piercing – that make an unmissable point under your T-shirt. Not since Eva Herzigova was in her Wonderbra in 1994 – Hello Boys – have boobs been so, well, big. It is oddly tricky to discuss boobs without sounding as if you are in a doctor's surgery or a fraternity house. The word breasts is rather formal. Boobs is fond and familiar, which feels right, but sniggery, which doesn't. Bosoms are what you see in period dramas. Knockers, jugs, melons, hooters, fun bags? Whatever we call them, they are full of contradictions. Men see them and think of sex; babies see them and think of food. They contain a liquid without which the human race could not until recently have survived, but they are also one of the most tumour-prone parts of the body. You can admire them in the Uffizi, the Louvre and the National Gallery, but they are banned on Instagram (Free the nipple!). They are nursing Madonnas, and they are Madonna in a conical bra. They are topless goddesses and top shelf; entirely natural yet extremely rude; and they are, right now, absolutely everywhere. There is a whole lot going on here. In America, the impact of the Trump administration is going way beyond policy, reshaping culture at a granular level. The Maga ruling class has a thirst for busty women in tight clothes, which fuses something new – what Zuckerberg has called 'masculine energy' – with nostalgia for 1950s America. (The 'again' in Make America Great Again may not have a date stamp, but it comes with a white picket fence.) As a symbol of fertility, full breasts are catnip to a regime obsessed with breeding and keen to limit reproductive freedoms. Boobs are in the eye of the storm of the current gender fluidity rollback, too. Nothing says boys will be boys and women should look like women more than Bezos's Popeye biceps next to Sánchez's lace-edged curves. They used to say that a picture was worth a thousand words; in today's ultra-visual culture, that rate of exchange has steepened. The fact that a culture that was, until a few years ago, sensitively exploring gender as a complex issue has now regressed to the level of teenage boys watching American Pie for the first time says everything about how things have changed. Since 1962, when Timmie Jean Lindsey, a mother of six from Texas, became the first woman in the world to have silicone implants, breasts have been a lightning rod for the battleground between what is real and what is fake. The debate that catapulted Pamela Anderson to fame in the 1990s has become one of the defining issues of our time. It turns out that breasts, and beauty, were just the start. Artificial intelligence has jumped the conversation on. From Mountainhead to Black Mirror, we are now talking not just about real boobs v fake ones but about real brains v fake ones. In the battle between old-school flesh and blood and the prospect of a new, possibly improved, version of the human race, breasts have been leading the culture for 63 years. In a nutshell, the world is losing its mind over the girls. 'The State of the Union is … boobs' was the New York Post's succinct verdict on the charms of Sweeney, while Amy Hamm wrote in the National Post that they were 'double-D harbingers of the death of woke'. On inauguration day, onlookers were divided between outrage at an inappropriate level of nudity and admiration for how Sánchez's 'Latina auntie' energy showed her, um, balls. All of which makes it a weird time to have breasts. When writer Emma Forrest saw the author portrait taken for the jacket of her new novel, Father Figure, her first thought was, 'Oh wow, my boobs look huge.' She is wearing a plain black T-shirt, 'so that must be OK, right? It's not like I'm wearing a corset. I feel I should be allowed to have people review my books without having an issue with my boobs. But who knows.' Breasts have always had the power to undermine women. After a double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery, Sarah Thornton found herself with much bigger breasts than she had wanted – having asked for 'lesbian yoga boobs', she woke up with D cups – and wrote her book, Tits Up, to make peace with her 'silicone impostors' by investigating their cultural history. Breasts, she writes, are 'visible obstacles to equality, associated with nature and nurture rather than reason and power'. Since she was a teenager, Forrest has lived with 'the assumption that having big breasts means being messy, being sexually wild, having no emotional volume control. I have had to learn to separate my own identity from what other people read on to my body.' It's Messy: On Boys, Boobs and Badass Women is the title of Amanda de Cadenet's memoir, in which she writes about developing into 'the teenage girl whose body made grown women uncomfortable and men salivate', recalling the destabilising experience of having a body that brought her overnight success – she was a presenter on The Word at 18 – while simultaneously somehow making her the butt of every joke. If the length of our skirts speaks to the stock market – short hemlines in boom times, long when things are bad – breasts are political. Thirty years after the French Revolution, Eugène Delacroix painted Liberty Leading the People with a lifesize, bare-breasted Liberty hoisting the French flag, leading her people to freedom. A century and a half later, women burning their bras at the 1968 protest against the Miss America pageant became one of the defining images of the feminist movement – never mind the fact that it never happened. (Protesters threw copies of Playboy, and some bras, in a trash can, but starting a fire on a sidewalk was illegal.) Intriguingly, decades when big breasts are in fashion seem to coincide with times of regression for women. Think about it. The 1920s: flat-chested flapper dresses and emancipation. The 1950s: Jayne Mansfield and women being pushed away from the workplace and back into the home. The 1970s: lean torsos under T-shirts, and the women's liberation movement. Sarah Shotton started out as an assistant in Agent Provocateur's raunchy flagship store in Soho, London, in 1999, when she was 24, and rose to become creative director of the lingerie brand in 2010. Her 15 years in charge have seen Agent Provocateur rocked by the changing tides of sexual politics. In 2017, the year #MeToo hit the headlines, the company went into administration, before finding a new distributor. Shotton says, 'I have always loved sexy bras, and it's what we are known for. But there was a time when it felt like that wasn't OK. Soon after #MeToo, we had a campaign lined up to shoot and the phone started ringing with all the agents of the women who were supposed to be in it, pulling their clients out, saying they didn't want to be seen in that way.' But the brand's revenues have doubled in the past three years. 'Last year we shot a film with Abbey Clancy and Peter Crouch, where she's in really sexy lingerie and he's playing pool. I remember saying, 'This is either going to go down like a ton of bricks or people are going to love it.'' It seems as if they loved it: the company's sales are expected to hit £50m this year. 'I think a younger generation now want what we had in the 1990s and 2000s,' Shotton says, 'because it looks like we had more fun. My generation of women had childhood on our BMX bikes, then when we were in our 20s, your job finished when you left the office and you could go out drinking all night if you wanted to. I think we really did have more fun. Life just didn't feel as complicated as it does now.' The bestselling bras, she says, are currently 'anything plunging and push-up. Racy stuff. Our Nikita satin bra, which is like a shelf for your boobs and only just covers your nipples.' Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion The legacy of the 1990s, when feminism and raunch became bedfellows, has left the world confused about breasts. Before that, the lines were pretty simple – the flappers throwing off their corsets, the feminists protesting over Page 3. But Liz Goldwyn, film-maker and sociologist (and granddaughter of Samuel Goldwyn Jr), whose first job was in a Planned Parenthood clinic and who collects vintage lingerie, doesn't fit neatly into any of the old categories. 'Third-wave feminists like myself grew up in the riot grrrl and burlesque days, where we embraced corsets and kink along with liberation and protest,' she says. Goldwyn collects, loves and wears vintage lingerie, while abhorring Spanx. 'I would rather go to the dentist than wear shapewear, but I find nothing more satisfying than to colour-coordinate my lingerie drawers.' Wearing a corset, she says, 'makes me breathe with more presence'. Breasts have always been about money and class as well as sex and gender. The Tudor gentlewomen who wore dresses cut to expose their small, pert breasts were proudly indicating they had the means to afford a wet nurse. Sánchez's inauguration outfit – tiny white Alexander McQueen trouser suit, lots of gravity-defying cleavage – 'taps into the fact that people who are that wealthy can have the impossible,' Forrest says. 'It is pretty difficult to have a super-slim body and big breasts. Her body is a physical manifestation of something much bigger, which is the hyper-wealthy living in a different reality to the rest of us. The planet might be doomed, but they can go to space. It's a 'fuck you' marker of luxury and arrogance.' The vibe, Goldwyn agrees, 'is very dystopian 1980s Dynasty meets 'let them eat cake'. I would never disparage another woman's body, but I have no problem disparaging her principles … in claiming to stand for women's empowerment, yet attending an inauguration for an administration that has rolled back reproductive freedoms.' Surgery – the blunt fact of boobs being a thing you can buy – has crystallised the idea of breasts as femininity's biggest commercial hit. (They are at times referred to, after all, as prize assets.) The primitive – survival of the fittest, in the thirsty sense of the word – is now turbocharged by enlargement is the most popular cosmetic surgery in the UK, with 5,202 procedures carried out in 2024, according to the British Association of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons. When Jacqueline Sanchez Taylor interviewed women in 2010 about their experiences of breast augmentation for her research into the sociology of cosmetic surgery, 'a lot of young women told me they were doing it for status'. Not to show off, but to show 'they had made it. They felt they were being good citizens: going out there and making money, but also wanting to play the part of being feminine.' Breasts, Sanchez Taylor says, 'say everything about who a woman is: about femininity and fertility, class and age.' They are at the centre of the industrial complex that has grown up around female beauty. 'I remember sitting in a consultation with a woman and her surgeon, and him saying cheerfully, 'Oh yes, you've got fried egg breasts. But we can fix that.'' Fake is no longer scandalous or transgressive. The vocabulary of plastic surgery has been gentled and mainstreamed to become the more palatable cosmetic surgery. The older women of the Kardashian family have been coy about having had work, but 27-year-old Kylie Jenner recently shared on social media the details of her breast surgery – down to the implant size, placement and name of surgeon. Unreal is here to stay, and the new battle line is between perfection and imperfection. The generation growing up now, who have never seen a celebrity portrait that wasn't retouched, have never used a camera that doesn't have filters, take 20 selfies and delete 19 of them, have an intolerance of imperfection. To put it bluntly: normal looks weird to them. So it seems natural – even if it isn't really natural – that celebrity boobs are getting bigger even as celebrity bodies are getting smaller. 'We are in a really weird place with the body, particularly in America,' says Emma McClendon, assistant professor of fashion studies at St John's University in New York, who in 2017 curated the New York exhibition The Body: Fashion and Physique. 'What we are seeing now is definitely not about the bigger body. It is a very controlled mode of curviness, which emphasises a tiny waist.' (Very 1950s coded, again.) 'GLP-1 weight-loss drugs are having a cultural impact on all of us, whether or not you or people you know are on them,' McClendon says. 'The incredible shrinking of the celebrity body that is happening in America is creating this idea that your body is endlessly fixable and tweakable.' Hairlines can be regrown, fat melted, wrinkles erased. For most of the past half-century, fashion has held out against boobs. With a few notable exceptions – Vivienne Westwood, rest her soul, adored a corset-hoisted embonpoint – modern designers have mostly ignored them. Karl Lagerfeld insisted his models should glissade, ballerina style, and disliked any curves that veered from his clean, elongated lines. And yet in the past 12 months, the bullet bra has come back. A star turn on the Miu Miu catwalk was presaged last year by a cameo in the video for Charli xcx's 360, worn by photographer and model Richie Shazam, and by influencer and singer Addison Rae, whose lilac velvet corset creamed into two striking Mr Whippy peaks at a Young Hollywood party last summer. To seal the revival, none other than the queen of fashion – Kate Moss – wore a bullet bra under her Donna Karan dress in a viral fashion shoot with Ray Winstone for a recent issue of Perfect magazine. Perhaps the bullet bra, which can be seen as weaponising the breast, is perfect for now. 'Fashion is the body, and clothes turn the body into a language,' McClendon says. The bullet bra is steeped in a time when 'domestic femininity was repackaged as glamour', Forrest says. 'A postwar era, coming back from scarcity and lack and hunger, when Sophia Loren was sold as a kind of delicious luxury truffle.' Goldwyn is a fan. 'A perfectly seamed bullet bra lifts my spirits (and my breasts) if I am in a foul mood,' she says. 'I hope we can reclaim it as symbolic of resistance, defiance and armour.' In the backstage scrum with reporters after she had made bullet bras the centrepiece of her Miu Miu catwalk show, Miuccia Prada said the collection was about 'femininity', then she corrected herself: 'No – femininities.' Prada has been using her clothes to articulate the complexities of living and performing femininity for decades, and this season it led her to the bullet bra. 'What do we need, in this difficult moment for women – to lift us up?' she laughed, gesturing upwards with her hands, surrounded by pointy-chested models. 'It's like a new fashion. I think the girls are excited.' Half a millennium after Leonardo da Vinci painted the Madonna Litta, his 1490 painting of the Virgin Mary baring her right breast to feed Christ, which now hangs in the State Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg, Russia, another Madonna found her breasts in the spotlight. In the late 1980s, Jean Paul Gaultier was experimenting with conical bras in his Paris shows. 'He took inspiration from his grandmother's structured undergarments,' says fashion historian Amber Butchart, 'and used them to herald self-liberation. I don't generally like the word empowering – it doesn't tend to mean much – but that was very much the idea.' In 1989, while Madonna was preparing for her 1990 Blond Ambition world tour, she phoned Gaultier and asked him to design the wardrobe. On the opening night, in Japan, Madonna tore off her black blazer to reveal that iconic baby-pink satin corset with conical cups. 'Do you believe in love? Well, I've got something to say about it,' she declared, before launching into Express Yourself. The silhouette, which could be seen all the way from the cheap seats, would end up scandalising the pope and costing the world's biggest female pop star a lucrative Pepsi deal. Boobs have always been good at capturing our attention, and they have it right now. Hello again, boys.