Neon Wonderland
by Lena Rivera
As the sun set on Saturday night, September 22, Pershing Square transformed into a hub of light and energy. Music thumped, and the colorful excitement lured people, by the hundreds, from nearby sidewalks. Overhead, lasers flashed through thick smoke, turning it from green to purple then blue. Children swung sparkling hula hoops around in brightly lit fun, while a couple walked hand in hand, pondering the depths of one canvas painting after another. Crowds gathered around interactive light installations and electronic games that invited all ages to come and play.
It was Autumn Lights Los Angeles, an annual festival celebrating creativity and discovery in the medium of light. Under curator Lilli Muller, a 20-year veteran of the L.A. Arts District and downtown scene, the festival nurtures visual art of every kind — from sculpture to canvas to digital projection — in one great glittering swirl. By night’s end, tens of thousands had experienced her latest vision.
As the darkness thickened, so did the crowd. The lights standing brighter against the smoky air. Fish and other aquatic creatures swam through the trees, their bubble-wrapped bellies lighting up with neon greens and yellows.
Next to the music stage, artist Joe Wu bobbed his head to the beat as he watched over a line of canvases bursting with colorful primordial images, and set aglow by black light. He smiled as passersby tried on 3D glasses to experience his fluorescent art in a whole new layer. Wu’s paintings combine intricate elements of traditional paint, fluorescent lines, and hidden 3D layers. His work explores deep, spiritual influences, the artist said. The 3D layer is just for fun,
“I paint spiritual connections that I have, to hopefully evoke a deeper consciousness when you see this work,” Wu said. “The common denominator that drives me is a sense of peace and understanding.”
Whether people focus on the ethereal element of his paintings or the modern fluorescent pop, his works are moving, urging the viewer to seek that sense of peace. And they have been drawing attention in the last few years, especially through his online shop, “Djembe & Canvas,” but tonight Wu says he is most excited to get out and connect with the community in person.
Wandering through Pershing Square surrounded by musical beats and flashing laser lights, it could be difficult to focus on one artist or piece amid the overwhelming bursts of beauty. Yet one piece managed to stand out. In the center of the square, a convoluted twisting of ropes jutted toward the night sky. Emmanuel Sandoval’s “Vector Interactions” stood backlit with brilliant deep purples and blues, luring eyes towards its parabolic canopy of light and shadow.
“Basically all the lines you see are vectors,” Sandoval said. “I’m using a system to create a network, and eventually that will create a canopy.”
Already, the ropes weave playful light and architecture together into a striking creation.
“I want it to grow. It could go up to about seven feet,” the artist says, standing next to the three-foot structure, with a jutting tip that reaches nearly five feet.
His eyes lit up with excitement as he explained that the lines that extend from the network of ropes, or “isocurves,” are a complex mathematical structure. It forms a sweeping, roughly triangular shape that flows from a single point and curves upward to create the ‘canopy’ that the artist imagines. Sandoval studied architecture, which clearly influences his work along with his interest in light and shadow play.
“I didn’t really see an architectural influence (in previous years), so I wanted to bring that to Autumn Lights,” he said. The popularity of “Vector Interactions” bodes well for that goal.
Later, in the darkest part of the night and the last hours of the festival, the show began to slow. Music waned, and people started to filter out of crowded areas of the square. But as the brighter lights dimmed, a more subtle creation rose to prominence. A creepy tentacle, once barely visible amid brighter company, seemed almost to rise up from the ground. “Monster,” created by Jena Priebe, looks like a twisted tentacle arm, six feet high with tubular contours that curl like the spiraled limb of some steampunk creature from the past. A light within it glows orange, embodying fiery warmth.
Priebe, a fixture at the nearby Spring Arts Tower, built the piece by welding “pressed copper circuit boards produced in the 1950s for computers,” she said. It exhibits an “obsession with anything earth-toned, copper, or brass.” Her creation lurked behind the more vibrant art, not begging and flashing with neon or lasers, but warm in tone and earthy in feel.
It reflects her love for metals and anything Machine Age, and yet “also has softness,” the artist said. “It’s feminine; it has a lot of curves.” The sculpture’s unique welded design and illusion of life glowing within seized many eyes.
“It’s very anchored and unobtrusive,” Priebe explained. “Its warm light is really meant to give a feeling of easiness.”
That easiness brought welcome relief as the night wound to a close. Afterimages of the neon riot still danced through the mind, but this earthy brass arm somehow settled it all down, easing the spirit into rest. In that way, this “Monster” offered the perfect finish to a night of glowing, glittering inspiration.
