+digi nikki+東京

“You never know in LA” the cab driver tells me as we leave the airport. “you never know”. He’s referring to traffic, but I have a feeling this could extend to a lot more in Los Angeles. It’s my first time in LA, or my second time if my first experience when I was 14 counts. The weather is hot as he drives me to my hotel in Culver City; a renewed city center, friendly people sipping lates on the terraces, and it already feels like a theme park, Main Street USA. The hotel adds to the Disney feel, it’s a nice old triangular piece of architecture standing on its own, vintage decoration inside. The room next to mine is the Clark Gable room; I unpack. I’m the first to arrive, it’s early Monday and I decide to take a walk to the exhibition space. Culver City has many furniture stores, interior design showrooms; I stop for a ultra fresh italian sandwich, the mozzarella is excellent. I used to think of the US as the worst place to get good food, but everywhere I look it is possible to find something tasty to eat - I know I have been lucky in Miami, LA, NY but still… there is hope. As long as you have a car maybe. Which I don’t.

Cars. “Oh I forgot you don’t drive… it’s a nightmare without a car” - wise words from a wise woman. Culver City, the Scion installation space, the art district around La Cienega: walkable. And then? Cabs. Some are good, some are bad. Most of the time it’s a fight, a succession of battles. First, convince one to take you where you want to go. Then make sure the price is going to be right. “oh at this time it’s going to be $50″: I dont think so. Then further negotiations: “I don’t have change, I don’t take cards, the tip is too small, my machine doesn’t print receipts, I don’t have a card”. I think I have heard possibly all excuses in seven days. But it finally gets me there: downtown, the Moca, an inspiring Kippenberger restrospective, Amoeba (Carl Stone and Momus albums in stock: an alternate reality is possible), David Byrne at the Greek theater. Good to see David live again. I remember seeing him in Lisbon for the expo in 1998, with musicians from his label, Luaka Bop. Here, he is playing songs made with Brian Eno, all dressed in white, dancers around him. Good, but the audience is late, there is no opening act. There is a certain distance between the act and the audience, maybe because of the open theater setting. The air is fresh, a little cold. And then the show is over and everybody gets back to his car. It’s all about cars, really.

“Hey Digiki, I’m driving now I’ll have to call you back” Miltos Manetas on the phone, I invite him to the opening. On the way back from Cinespace with David I fall asleep in his car: I still have this ability to just fall asleep in cars, wherever, however interesting the conversation is. I feel a bit embarrassed, we’ve barely met, but it’s okay, it’s late anyway. We make plans, -beach tomorrow?- but we will end up at some parties in the hills, and people will talk about the debate, and we will visit some artist studios and talk about the early days of MTV.

Later that week there would be an haunted house, and I’d hear people say “it’s the right thing to do now” about the show in Miami, and My Bloody Valentine would be in town and as we drive we’d see a homeless man with a cellphone and Kenton would say “only in LA”.

On Saturday I finally meet Channing. We’ve known each other for five years now, but it’s the first time we meet and right from the start it feels comfortable, natural, like resuming a conversation. He is the intelligent, articulate person I imagined, and we talk about politics, art. We drive to the Getty museum. Another theme park, art as a destination. The first thing you notice when you arrive at this beautiful space, -the view point from the hill is amazing-, is a sign: “what to see, where to eat, where to shop”; I guess there is a “where to park” sign before.

Roddy is in town too, and we do a tour of the galleries on La Cienega. It’s always good to see him, last time was in NY at this architect’s office party and it was cold outside and everything was a blur, Mai, Serge, the new museum opening, a huge parmesiano cheese on a table, and I think last time we barely spoke, but now the weather is warm and we get a chance to catch up.

At the opening, I am playing music next to people giving out free energy drinks: it’s a good metaphor of my position maybe, not fully part of the show maybe but still contributing to its energy. Everybody seems to be into the music; people ask “where is this crazy selection coming from?”-, in a good way. Later, the music connects with Ichiro Endo’s performance, in a totally unprepared way. “You made it contemporary”, Kenton tells me afterward. Ichiro is really happy too, the crowd reaction is much more vivid than in Tokyo. The artists look happy, if tired: they spent the week on this project.

After the show promises are made and we will meet again, in Tokyo, LA, Miami, -”aren’t you coming to New York?”- and we meet for the last time in the lobby and Ai looks great as usual, ready for another performance later that day.

On the plane back to Tokyo I read Freud’s Moses, and the man next to me asks “is it your first time in Tokyo?” and I’m tempted to answer, “yes, it is”.