Richard Ankrom

Re "In Artist's Freeway Prank, Form Followed Function," May 9: Kudos to Richard Ankrom for doing and saying something that had to be said. Even as a lifelong resident of Los Angeles, I've often been confused by misleading and inadequate signs all over the place, from freeways that assume everyone (including foreign visitors) knows that "Sacramento" means north, to terrible passenger signs at LAX. The sign makers who live here obviously assume everyone is as familiar with these places as they are, so I suggest they hire a consultant from outside the area to help them understand how much information is really needed to help people find their way. Andy Pearlman Marina del Rey Yeah, sure--the form is fine but the function fails.

Set out the flares: It's important to approach the subject of cars and art in L.A. with considerable caution. The road is dotted with potholes. We learned that the hard way. In 1984, the Museum of Contemporary Art opened a high-profile exhibition titled "Automobile and Culture" that chronicled the interplay between cars and art in Europe and the U.S. throughout the 20th century. To the surprise of many, masterpieces were few and far between.

Set out the flares: It's important to approach the subject of cars and art in L.A. with considerable caution. The road is dotted with potholes. We learned that the hard way. In 1984, the Museum of Contemporary Art opened a high-profile exhibition titled "Automobile and Culture" that chronicled the interplay between cars and art in Europe and the U.S. throughout the 20th century. To the surprise of many, masterpieces were few and far between.

Re "In Artist's Freeway Prank, Form Followed Function," May 9: Kudos to Richard Ankrom for doing and saying something that had to be said. Even as a lifelong resident of Los Angeles, I've often been confused by misleading and inadequate signs all over the place, from freeways that assume everyone (including foreign visitors) knows that "Sacramento" means north, to terrible passenger signs at LAX. The sign makers who live here obviously assume everyone is as familiar with these places as they are, so I suggest they hire a consultant from outside the area to help them understand how much information is really needed to help people find their way. Andy Pearlman Marina del Rey Yeah, sure--the form is fine but the function fails.

Usually, the Brand Library's Skylight Gallery proudly lives up to its name, and artists happily take advantage of its yawning floor and open, sky-lit atmosphere. It's a different story at the moment. Richard Ankrom has willfully blocked out the windows and skylight. The once light-washed space has taken on a dark, industrial character. The darkness is punctuated by abrupt flashes and buzzes, triggered by motion sensors as visitors pass through.

Is billionaire developer Donald Trump using the freeway to fill his fairways? That's what it looked like Thursday in Brentwood to motorists on Sunset Boulevard near the 405 Freeway. An official-looking sign at Sunset's southbound freeway onramp pointed the way to the Trump National Golf Club with a giant arrow.

Armed with a pinch of art worldly idealism, one can notice a sort of perceptual backlash taking place in the calm quarters of art galleries. Increasingly, they are becoming sanctuaries from the bombardments of information-age stimuli. As the pace of electronic media and digital technology accelerates, creating a whirlwind of transient data, the power of simple, static imagery--and well-placed texts--seems to be gaining force. Or is this wishful thinking?

What more could an artist want? An unusual medium. A chance to take a jab at the establishment. An almost endless audience, speeding to see the work. Richard Ankrom created that enviable milieu above an unlikely canvas--the Harbor Freeway in downtown Los Angeles. For two years, the rail-thin artist planned and prepared for his most ambitious project, a piece that would be seen by more than 150,000 motorists every day on the freeway near 3rd Street.

Some may joke that "Valley" and "culture" are mutually exclusive. But artistic vitality can be found tucked in the crannies as little explosions of creativity and gallery energy pop up in the 'burbs. For this reason and others, 1999 was the year of the Orlando Gallery, that stalwart space on Ventura Boulevard in Sherman Oaks. Run by Bob Gino and Don Grant, it will be moving in 2000 to a new location elsewhere in the Valley, possibly in Woodland Hills.

"Lingam and Yoni," the title given to each of eight new sculptures by Mike Kelley, suggests a grand cosmology. In each, a phallic form grows out of a vulva-shaped bowl, which rests atop a pedestal. They are familiar Hindu symbols for masculine and feminine energy, in which creation and destruction interlock. But they're also sculptures by Kelley, a protean artist for whom nothing is ever one-dimensional.