You’re in Los Angeles, you like art, you make art, you curate art, or you just inexplicably wish to be near it despite none of those things applying. But how do you make art friends? I will tell you. If you’re in the know then you don’t need to read this—and if you’re not, I’m about to do you a favor.
The art world operates around a scene of people that congregate in random corners of the city, share friends, exchange Instagrams, and know curators. Which bubble, or scene, you are contained within is almost wholly dependent on who your people are and where you met them.
In Los Angeles, more than New York, the artists largely know each other because they went to the same MFA program—beyond that, they meet at wine bars.
The two main wine bars that the young art world descends upon are Café Triste in Chinatown and El Prado in Echo Park.
Here is your go-to guide for how to look like you belong:
1. Sit outside. If it’s summer, or any other season when it is not raining, don’t sit inside. (If it is raining—what are doing here? Go home, your roof is leaking onto your XBox.) Anyone and everyone is outside on the sidewalk (or patio) standing or sitting at a table—and most likely smoking. Smoke. You don’t smoke? Learn. It gives you an excuse to talk to people.
2. Get cozy. If there is an empty seat at a table that other people are sitting at, even if it’s small, it’s totally ok to sit down, introduce yourself, start talking and make new friends. The table seating is communal, these seating areas are small on purpose. Regular bar rules don’t usually apply—but just as anywhere, do a vibe check first. If you can’t do vibe checks, leave Southern California, or offer everyone drugs.
3. Non-alchoholic drinks are fine. You don’t have to drink drink. Sparkling water is perfectly fine and a regular go-to for much of the set. The nice thing about a wine bar is nobody asks what you’re drinking.
4. Don’t dress up. These are spaces for shorts, tank tops, jeans, ripped shirts and peasant dresses. Dressing up makes you look like a “try hard.” Leave high heels at home, this is LA.
5. Don’t mention how bad everyone looks in their peasant dresses.
6. Get friendly. For some reason, the people who come to these places (even if they show up with friends) are open to talking to-, and meeting-, new people. Something in their art-lizard brain is aware they are networking even when they are 9 merlots in and free-associating about their sister and land acknowledgments.
7. There is privacy. If you do need a bit of privacy, say for a work meeting, sit inside—which you will find to be sparsely populated and much quieter, making it a better place to talk shop.
8. Bring your dog. Any single guy knows that a great way to start conversations with girls in the LA art world is to have a dog with you at openings. People like dogs. Dogs cannot mansplain social practice or steal a public-art grant that should’ve gone to you. Dogs are innocent and loyal and appreciate things for what they smell like—they are, in essence, the opposite of the world you’re trying to get into, which is very refreshing.
9. Act interested in all dogs even the ones that aren’t that good.
10. Don’t seem out of it. Do not ask questions about what a gallery is or where it is or whether it’s important. Just nod when you hear anything you don’t understand and, if you get in a real tight spot, then spill a glass or act surprised that you saw a dog.
11. Ask any question that doesn’t make it seem like you’re out of it. Ask about shows coming up and which galleries someone likes and happenings they’re into and ask what the thematic thrust of their studio work is. People love to talk about their takes on contemporary art and they’ve been socially isolated all their lives because no normal person wants to hear about it.
12. Do not say it sucks. It likely will suck since the only thing to drink is wine or water, it’s cramped, the chatter alternates between airily-positive assessments of shows you haven’t seen and “witty” attempts to counterprogram the art chatter with pop culture references only half the table will get, plus an overpriced bar literally full of artists and curators is less likely to have actors, models, strippers or other hot people in it than other bars of comparable price. Just pretend you like it anyway.
At the end of the day, this is a competitive city under increasingly-late stage technocapitalism and making art friends in a city as dispersed and varied as this town means intentionality and a little insider info. Good luck.
Image: Courtesy Café Triste