I Am Not A Masochist

I am not a fan of pain, of any kind.  However, I find myself oddly in agreement with the man many credit as the grandfather of that particular fetish – Leopold Von Sacher-Masoch.  He was one of those men-of-letters one could find wandering Europe two centuries ago, and he was peculiarly obsessed with fur… fur on women… women who he would then beg to beat the crap out of him.  Whatever floats your boat.

What I appreciate about the man, however, is his sentiment that “pleasure alone makes existence worthwhile.”  Can you imagine how dreadfully grey life would look if we humans couldn’t experience pleasure?  And how great is it that pleasure is such a personal pursuit?  Good ole Leopold found his in the slap of a leather whip.  I find mine in more prosaic ways.  Like checking out the Vanity Fair exhibit at LACMA.

I’ve always loved evocative black-and-white photography.  The pictures highlighted in this exhibit do not disappoint.  As is to be expected, this is a collection of celebrity portraits, old and new.  Some artists are better than others at capturing their subjects’ souls.  I particularly like Mario Testino’s work.  Perhaps some of the sitters are soulless, and therefore the photographers should not be blamed?

What I found most interesting was how many of the by-gone celebrities are truly gone – that is, they are no longer in the public conscience.  Something for all the regulars on TMZ to remember – every star fades, and some actually die without a trace.

The exhibit runs through March 1, 2009.  There are a couple of other photography collections on display and worth checking out in various wings of the complex – LACMA recently got a huge chunk of money earmarked for the photography department and they are most definitely putting it to use – so you could probably spend a good few hours wandering about.  If you do, however, I recommend you wear something other than the 3-1/2 inch heels I chose. Yes, my legs looked fabulous, but my feet hurt like hell after I stood around staring at famous people’s mugs all afternoon.  And, as I may have mentioned, I am not a fan of pain.

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