Team Party Crash: Larry Clark's Teenage Lust
What, is this dude's game not working on you? Are you completely lacking a vagina?
And we interrupt this Gawker to bring you the latest report from Team Party Crash. Last night we sent special correspondent Noelle Hancock and Village Voice shutterbroad Jennifer Snow to cover the opening reception of Larry Clark s photo exhibition, Teenage Lust. Most of his photos are NSFW so we ll leave those to our pervy brother at Fleshbot.com. Deal with it. And click on the jump for pure wanton love — and fedoras!
"I have nooooo legs! But I do have totally bitchin' vintage shoes."
You know what s really funny? Me. That s why I'm in charge of covering tonight's Teenage Lust exhibition (and also because I lost the rock-paper-scissors contest with Jessica and Matt — damn you, Scissors, damn you!) So here s the Larry Clark 411: In 1995, he directed Kids, which won critical acclaim and gave Rosario Dawson s career the push it needed so she could play bass in leopard print ears for Josie and the Pussy Cats and fuck Colin Farrell. Tonight s show is the resurrection of photos from a book he published in 1982.
The good news is the kids in the backseat saved a bunch of money by switching to Geico!
So is art the only field in which it s acceptable for people to just cobble together some of their old shit and pretend it s something new by calling it a retrospective ? The next time my editor asks me for an article, I m compiling some old columns together and calling it a day.
Moving on.
The first thing I see is a framed passage (with no caps just to be extra-annoying) signed 1974 Larry Clark. It says:
i always wished i had a camera when i was a boy. fucking in the backseat. gangbangs with the pretty girl all the other girls in the neighborhood hated. the fat girl next door who gave me blowjobs after school and i treated her mean and told all my pals. we kept count up to about three hundred the times we fucked her in the eighth grade. i got the crabs from babs. albert who said "no i'm first, she's my sister."
Anyone else wish you could, like, unread that?
What's black and white and incredibly disturbing all over? She knows!
On to the photos. They re sexy but gross, like those "abdominal pain" pop-up ads with hot chicks lifting up their shirts. There are lots of pictures of dick, but none of Michael Jackson's barber-pole penis, alas. Oh, look — there s a photo of a guy shooting up who looks like Christ! Stay tuned for a shirt from Urban Outfitters reading: Jesus is my heroin homeboy and an accompanying NYT article. The next portrait depicts a man holding a rifle at his crotch ( weapon as the phallus blah blah blah ) A nearby photo also includes a gun, which is being pointed at a naked girl bound by rope — it's always nice to give something back to the young people!
"But it was MY turn to be Moby!"
Heroin Jesus notwithstanding, the real comic relief here is the crowd itself. In a world that s gone Lasik, every remaining person with a vision problem has gathered in this room and anti-Acuvue sentiment runs high. There s also a healthy selection of facial hair, much of which resembles a final refuge for the Appalachian Chipmunk population. Finally, there s quite a few — how shall we say? — contributing editors to Creepy Magazine. To wit:
The man in the photo thinks Booger from Revenge of the Nerds was highly misunderstood.
Even Professor Dumbledore wants to drink the Heinie!
If you like Choire Sicha, you'll LOVE designer imposter gallery owner Brian Clampart!
You may recognize "Stripe" from her role in Gremlins. The old man TOLD them not to throw water on the Mogwais...
I pretend to listen to Webster Hall curator, Baird Jones, while the angsty teen in the background waits for Mr. Clark to discover him.
Laugh all you want, but this man is single-handedly reviving the male baby tee.
This is the sort of function where drinking is not only appropriate, but necessary.
Business cards: the new camera phone pics?
"We're together, but we're not together. Why, do you have a room somewhere or something?"
What you see here is a woman paralyzed with fear.
In the end, Larry doesn t show. The gallery owner says he s busy editing his new movie, Wassup Rockers. By now, it s so crowded that the contempt you feel for the person in front of you could only be greater if they were standing before a turnstile with a bent Metrocard. All in all, a decent exhibit. I wouldn t kick it out of bed, but make sure you go during the week to beat the crowds. And don t forget your prescriptionless glasses!
Happy Gaypril, everyone!
