A new exhibition, �Nicolas Caesar�s Grindhouse� � at what surely must be the
most unique art gallery in Burbank, Hyaena � is billed as �a Celebration of
Cinephelia and Trash Comics.�
That�s a pretty accurate description of the whole gallery visit, if you throw
in a raft of artworks centered on imagery of death, a selection of CDs you
won�t find featured on iTunes� Top 10, like �Exploding Girls,� Zuni fetish
dolls wielding bloody knives and 60-year-old micro-slides of sliced-up �human
glands.�
If that sounds too Goth-centric, it�s not. It�s more a sly commentary on
underground rebellion and the timeless pleasures afforded by B movies of the
1950s, a keen pursuit of the three-year-old gallery�s proprietor, Bill Shafer.
Shafer, who spent 16 years in the music business before he �got tired of
selling stuff I didn�t believe in,� said that he hopes people �get� the
backward humor of his challenging collection.
�I love the scavenger mythology of hyaenas,� Shafer said (he uses the
archaic spelling in tribute to 18th century woodcuts of the creatures).
�They�re always portrayed as being the low end of the food chain. But when
they work together in packs, they can take down the strongest beasts.�
The philosophy represents what Shafer is trying to display in the gallery, and
he rotates his featured artists every two weeks, anchored by a booming iPod
playlist that could be heavy metal or the soundtrack to �Grease.� It�s a
funny, rubber-necking visit to a gallery you won�t soon forget.
Among the eclectic offerings are �Memento Mori,� a relic by Kevin Klemm of a
skeletal torso embracing a photo of a woman laid out in a coffin; Eric de la
Vega�s �Rotella�s Nun,� a portrait of a good sister viciously devouring a fish
head; Jim Wirt�s X-rated, glam-rock �Coloringbook Land;� and Eddie Allen�s
hilarious images on Lenticular paper � from one angle, you see a 19th-century
couple soberly posed for a portrait; from another, the demure wife is
strangling her startled husband.
There is lots of religious imagery, echoing the death-specific iconography of
Latin American Catholicism. But there is also plenty of opportunity to pick up
conversation-changers like sculptures of Chucky look-alikes, and disturbingly
riveting objets d�art like a tuberculin syringe in its original box,
prescribed by Dr. L.S. Greenlea for a Mrs. Katherine Koste in 1951.
Caesar�s work has a sideshow madness, with acrylics like �Fluffy,� featuring a
portrait of anything but that and creepy cartoon anime you wouldn�t want to
meet in a back alley. His evil insect hybrids, like much of the other artists�
work on display, are designed to unbalance while they charm you.
Eddie Medrano, a professional clown, visits the gallery often to see what
might be new to the walls, and recently picked up a painting by Angus Oblong
(creator of the WB animated series, �The Oblongs�).
�Bill�s exhibits are always changing,� Medrano said. �I can always expect to
see really unique, off-the-wall stuff. Eccentric, that�s the word. And funny.�
There�s plenty for the literary set also. Malcolm McNeill has produced a
672-piece, limited-edition puzzle titled �Ah Pook is Here,� based on one of
William S. Burroughs� unreleased graphic novels. Ah Pook, the Mayan death god,
oversees a post-Dante�s Inferno world of �end of days hysteria.� Next to
paintings honoring that �50s fetish princess, Bettie Page, Bruce
Eichelberger�s hand-designed artisan eggs feature beautifully detailed and
pornographically twisted ink and glaze portraits on eggshells.
P.h. Fred has a collection of acrylic portraits on �recycled New Orleans tile�
of pop culture heroes with bizarre titles. �David Carradine � If You Can�t Be
the Poet, Be the Poem,� is one, along with tributes to Michael Jackson, Herv�
Villechaize and, weirdly, Jeffrey Dahmer.
And if you haven�t gotten enough train-wreck symbolism yet, there are
fingernail clippings of Angel Resendez, Houston�s �Railway Killer;� autographs
of serial assassins Jeffrey Dahmer and John Wayne Gacy; and pages from the
Bible autographed by Charles Manson.
Shafer�s parents, Sandy and Bob Shafer, were visiting from Massachusetts
recently and appeared to be thrillingly bewildered by Bill Shafer�s success.
His artistic sensibility favors the intarsia (a style of wood or stone inlay)
images of Jesus he creates � images more conventional than what he finds at
Hyaena.
�I did a funny one for Sandy of an old guy sitting in an outhouse,� Bob Shafer
said. �Maybe I can do one of a skeleton in an outhouse. That should sell OK
here.�