Latest news with #ArtCenterCollegeofDesign
Los Angeles Times
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Campers at Halecrest Park in Costa Mesa dig for fossils fabricated by retired teacher
Costa Mesa's Halecrest Park transformed into an archeological dig site Tuesday, as kids sifted through a massive sand pit with brushes and shovels, searching for replica saber-tooth cat and megalodon teeth and excavating the jawbone of a Tyrannosaurus rex. The summertime diversion was presented by 96-year-old Bob Schureman, a member of the private neighborhood tennis and swim club and a materials fabrication and manufacturing teacher who only recently retired from Pasadena's ArtCenter College of Design. A former industrial arts teacher at Costa Mesa's Estancia High School, from 1965 to 1985, Schureman has taught generations of students in his 63-year career. So, the nonagenarian was only too happy to lead an impromptu lesson for attendees of Halecrest's Fun Day Camp, ages 4 to 12. Applying his expertise in fabrication, Schureman crafted molds from fossils kept at Los Angeles' La Brea Tar Pits, creating exact replicas of every fiber, crack and crevice in the original pieces. Halecrest counselors buried the treasures in the site's beach volleyball pit, arranging shovels and sifters as the retired teacher laid out a table with books, molds and plastic castings, including a life-sized wooly mammoth tusk. Campers arrived in groups of 20 or more kids. 'Hello everybody, I'm Old Bob,' Schureman said, flashing an ear-to-ear grin. 'How many of you ever thought that there were once elephants in California? Has anybody been to the La Brea Tar Pits? Isn't it neat? They all roamed here 25,000 years ago.' The retired teacher's talk touched on everything from fabrication and archaeology to the importance of having enthusiasm for one's life and work to the need for more young people to enter the teaching profession. 'The beauty is, there are so many wonderful opportunities for you,' Schureman told campers. Combining lessons with play is par for the course at Halecrest Fun Day Camp, which focuses on keeping kids unplugged from electronic devices and encourages campers to run, jump, climb and play with friends they've forged bonds with over the years, as well as newcomers to the site. In addition to the usual playground antics, camp founder and Halecrest activities director Sharon Comer creates a summer schedule of themed weeks that help liven up the offerings with specific activities, lessons and games, including a science week. Although Schureman's visit came during Olympic Week, it was a perfect fit for the camp's curriculum of keeping kids intellectually curious. And the sand play areas on the site are the perfect arena to do just that, according to Comer. 'With the sand, they build these little cities and they find all these different shells,' she said. 'Sometimes, they find horseshoes and we turn it into, 'Can you imagine, there must have been a horse farm here.'' After Schureman's pep talk, campers were unloosed on the pit. They shoveled heaps of sand into sifters until fabricated fossils emerged. With trophies in hand, they returned to the teacher's table, where the retiree affixed their finds to wooden plaques bearing facts about the smilodon (saber-toothed cat) and megalodon. Mason Madden, 6, was the first archaeologist to unearth an object — a massive shark's tooth, along with a relatively puny counterpart taken from a great white shark. 'The megalodon's tooth is much bigger than a regular shark,' Mason said. 'Can we do it again? I want a saber tooth.' Nearby, 11-year-old camper Abby Alessandrini huddled together with friends Carson Princi, 9, and Sedona Kelly, 8, talking about who found what and making plans for where they would hang their plaques at home. 'I wanted to get all of them,' Carson said. 'What's crazy is how they make it so real. It almost freaks me out.' Abby has been coming to Halecrest's camp since before kindergarten and said, despite the lack of technology and screen time, she looks forward to seeing the friends she's made over many summers. 'I like that I can see my friends, and that it has a lot of activities,' she said, calling out for nearby campers Lucy Cruz and Emma Watson, both 10, to join the huddle where some serious girl talk ensued. As the morning's lesson wound down and campers returned to their respective play areas, Schureman fastidiously fastened the last few denticles to their wooden mounts. He handed a saber-toothed tiger plaque to a tiny, tow-headed camper. 'Do you believe in the tooth fairy?' he asked, receiving a nod in reply. 'Tell your mom and dad, 'Look at this tooth!' You can get a lot of money for that.' Nearby, Schureman's wife of nearly 75 years, Mary, looked on with a smile. 'Bob's in his glory,' she said.
Los Angeles Times
25-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Movie memories take hold as film art awareness is raised in ‘Rewind' at O.C. Fair
There are so many ways to watch digital content now that it has become an exercise in memory to recall what it was like to anticipate a release date. Stars of the screen have long been cemented in popular culture, some forever tied to iconic roles. Can you see Michael J. Fox as Marty McFly checking his watch in 'Back to the Future?' How about Mark Hamill leading a band of rebels against an evil empire as Luke Skywalker in the original 'Star Wars' trilogy? Well, there's more remembrances where that came from when one walks back through time in 'Rewind: A VHS Revival.' It's a debut exhibit at the Orange County Fair largely dedicated to the people and processes behind the artwork of the movie poster. After a couple of years of shows that focused on the music industry, including larger-than-life likenesses of the performing artists and then reproductions of well-known album covers, this new theme has emerged from the Art of Music Collection. 'I think a lot of people don't realize that somebody puts in that time and energy and refines a process through working with certain materials to create an image that becomes etched in people's memory,' said Joy Feuer, co-founder and curator of the exhibit. 'It evokes going to the movies with family or friends, a date night. … On the music stuff that we did, listening to an album or remembering a concert and being there with somebody. 'It's such a touchstone, and I think it's so important to note that it's not just the record companies or the movie companies that bring that to you, but it's these human beings who create an image. They're often not credited, and I have a huge soft spot in my heart and in my mind to bring those people into the spotlight and give them their due.' The career of the late John Alvin is explored in 'Creating the Promise of a Great Experience,' a standalone section that illustrates the steps taken to produce lasting images, such as the touching fingertips in 'E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial.' Several examples of his concept art are included, among them 'Aladdin,' 'Batman Forever,' 'Blade Runner' and the aforementioned 'Star Wars.' Alvin's widow, Andrea, said they met in art school at the ArtCenter College of Design in Pasadena. In working with the film industry, the designer's projects were often subject to conditions. 'Oftentimes, the most creative work comes out of the most restrictions because you're forced to come up with something … that meets all of these requirements,' Andrea Alvin said. 'In essence, that's what illustration is. It's not just illustration, but you have to be creative within the confines of what you are trying to say in the painting. 'I wrote a book about John called 'The Art of John Alvin,' … and my idea with it was to show the process, so I had everything from very rough sketches and some of our little notes and things on legal pads, all the way to finished art,' she continued. 'That was what Joy really connected with, and that was what she tried to show in the exhibit.' In some cases, studios did not want to have the designer sign their work. In 'Rewind,' Leslie Combemale, who represented Alvin's work, sees a means of bringing recognition to the artists who contributed to the success of movies. 'This is iconic and important work artistically but also a part of the making of a film,' said Combemale, owner of ArtInsights Gallery of Film and Contemporary Art. 'We want people to be more aware of that, and in general, more aware of below-the-line artists who have such an impact on the finished product of a film and how integral they are to a film's success.' Dawn Baillie, known for her work with 'Dirty Dancing,' 'Silence of the Lambs' and 'Little Miss Sunshine,' also grabs the designer spotlight in an exhibit called 'Anatomy of a Poster.' Also displayed are works produced by J.C. Backings, a scenic backdrop company founded by John Harold Coakley and his son, John Gary Coakley, in 1962. Backdrops utilized in the filming of 'The Sound of Music' and 'Logan's Run' are included in the show. 'It's a family-run business,' Feuer said. 'The great-grandfather was the one who had the vision. He saw this need, that Hollywood needed these really large-scale, hand-painted backdrops to create that cityscape, or mountain range, or whatever the scene was. They were an artistic family, so they started painting and doing it. 'They have in their possession a really vast archive, and so we rented two of their backdrops for the show, and those are the original ones. … They're not replicas. These are exactly what the film shot certain scenes from.' When fairgoers walk into the Huntington Beach building through the entrance on the east side, they are hit with a rush of nostalgia due to a display of videotapes on the racks. Blossom Marshall, visiting the fair from Riverside, said the video store setup reminded her of the 'Blockbuster days.' A whole section was dedicated to classic Disney animated movies. Film fanatics also took advantage of opportunities to grab photos with cutouts of the crew from 'The Wizard of Oz,' as well as a chance to strike a pose on the dance floor under a shimmering disco ball like John Travolta's Tony Manero in a 'Saturday Night Fever' set. Those who wanted to get off their feet were able to collapse into chairs that appeared to have come straight from the cinema, some of which provided a front-row seat to live painting reproductions of famous movie posters. Angel Acordagoitia spent the opening week of the fair, which runs through Aug. 17, working on 'Bride of Frankenstein.' It's his third time in the show in as many years, he remarked, reminiscing about painting album covers of Queens of the Stone Age and the Offspring the past couple of summers. Interacting with the public comes with the territory. Acordagoitia was open to comments and questions, adding that he is always with people as a DJ, a muralist and a tattoo artist. 'Since I was a kid, I always wanted to draw and paint,' said Acordagoitia, a Whittier resident who has branded himself as the Night Artist. 'Luckily, my parents have always encouraged me. … I know it's hard, but if you have the drive [and] make connections, that's what you need.' Scotty Roller, Jeff Lee and TerriLee Holm are also participating as painters of movie posters during the fair. A stone's throw from them is yet another interactive exhibit. Visitors to the 'Magic of Matte Painting' need a partner to fully enjoy it. One can walk through a set — their movement captured on camera against a city street backdrop — while their companion takes in the full picture on another screen. Betty Carlos of Upland, one of the vendors at the fair, called the movie-focused showcase a 'nice surprise' and a refresh for returning audiences. 'It's always lovely because they did such an amazing job, but having something new, we have a lot of season passholders who are looking for something new every time,' said Carlos, who counted a bar themed after 'Moulin Rouge' among the unexpected sightings. 'Therefore, having this new experience was definitely a refresher and an exciting new exhibit.'
Los Angeles Times
11-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Peter Brown rebooted ‘The Wild Robot' for the preschool set. His underlying message remains
There are rare moments in the culture when a children's book resonates with everyone. Parents who buy the book for their kids find themselves moved by a story that is not intended for them but somehow speaks to them. Peter Brown's 'The Wild Robot' is one such book. A tender-hearted fable about a robot who washes ashore on a remote island and goes native, the 2016 middle-grade novel from Little, Brown Books for Young Readers has spawned two sequels and last year's hit (and Oscar-nominated) adaptation from DreamWorks Animation, with book sales for the series topping 6.5 million worldwide. Brown has now created a picture book titled 'The Wild Robot on the Island,' a gateway for those still too young to read the original work. 'This new book gave me a chance to create these big, colorful, detailed illustrations, while still maintaining the emotional tone of the novel,' says Brown, who is Zooming from the Maine home he shares with his wife and young son. 'I've added some little moments that aren't in the novel to give younger readers an introduction and when they're ready, they can turn to the novel.' The new book's mostly-pictures-with-some-words approach is a return to Brown's earlier work when he was creating charming fables for toddlers about our sometimes fraught, sometimes empathetic attitude toward nature. In 2009's 'The Curious Garden,' a boy encounters a patch of wildflowers and grass sprouting from an abandoned railway and decides to cultivate it into a garden, while 2013's 'Mr. Tiger Goes Wild' finds the title character longing to escape from the conventions of a world where animals no longer run free. This push and pull between wilderness and civilized life, or wildness versus timidity, has preoccupied Brown for the duration of his career, and it is what brought Brown to his robot. 'I was thinking about nature in unlikely places, and the relationships between natural and unnatural things,' says Brown, a New Jersey native who studied at Pasadena's Art Center College of Design. 'And that led to the idea of a robot in a tree.' Brown drew a single picture of a robot standing on the branch of a giant pine tree, then put it aside while he produced other work. But the image wouldn't let him go: 'Every couple of months, I would think about that robot.' Brown began researching robots and robotics, and slowly the story gestated in his mind. 'Themes began to emerge,' says Brown. 'Mainly, the idea of this robot becoming almost more wild and natural than a person could be. That was so fascinating to me that I wanted to let this thing breathe and see where it took me.' Brown knew the involved narrative he had imagined wouldn't work in picture book form; he needed to write his story as a novel, which would be new territory for him. 'When I pitched the idea to my editor, she basically said, 'Pump your brakes,' ' says Brown. 'If I was going to write, I had to include illustrations as well. The publisher thought it was a bit of a risk. They wanted pictures in order to sell it, because of what I had done in the past.' Brown locked himself away out in the wilds of Maine, in a cabin with no Wi-Fi, and got down to it. 'I was nervous, and my editor wasn't sure, either,' says Brown, who cites Kurt Vonnegut as a literary influence. 'I realized there was no other option but for me to do it. And once I got into it, I had a blast.' Like all great fables, Brown's story is deceptively simple. A cargo ship full of robots goes down in the middle of the ocean. Some of these robots, still packed in their boxes, wash ashore on a remote island. A family of otters opens one such box, which turns out to be Roz, Brown's wild robot. As Roz explores this strange new world, she encounters angry bears, a loquacious squirrel and industrious beavers, who regard her as a malevolent force. But the robot's confusion, and the animal's hostility, soon dissolve into a mutual understanding. Roz is the reader's proxy, an innocent who acclimates to the complex rhythms of the natural world. Eventually she is subsumed into this alien universe, a creature of nature who allows birds to roost on her chromium shoulder. 'Roz has been programmed to learn, but her creators, the men who built her, don't expect her to learn in this particular way,' says Brown. 'And so she uses that learning ability to mimic the animals' behavior and learns how to communicate with them. Roz is the embodiment of the value of learning, and part of that is adapting, changing, growing.' The story isn't always a rosy fairy tale. There are predators on the island; animals are eaten for sustenance. Real life, in short, rears its ugly head. 'It gets tricky. Life is complicated, right?', says Brown. 'But thanks to Roz's influence, all the animals discover how they are all a part of this interconnected community.' Roz adopts an abandoned gosling that she names Brightbill, and the man-made machine is now a mother, flooded with compassion for her young charge. Their relationship is the emotional core of Brown's series. At a time when the world is grappling with the increasing presence of robotic technology in everyday life, Brown offers an alternative view: What if we can create robots that are capable of benevolence and empathy? Roz reminds us of our own humanity, our capacity to love and feel deeply. This is why 'The Wild Robot' isn't just a kid's book. It is in fact one of the most insightful novels about our present techno-anxious moment, camouflaged as a children's book. 'Technology is a double-edged sword,' says Brown. 'There's obviously a lot of good that is happening, and will continue to happen, but in the wrong hands it can be dangerous.' He mentions Jonathan Haidt's bestselling book 'The Anxious Generation,' and Haidt's prescriptions for restricting internet use among children, which Brown endorses. 'I don't have a lot of answers, but I just think we need to reinvest in our own humanity,' he says. 'We have to make sure things are going in the right direction.' In subsequent books, the outside world impinges on Roz's idyll. 'The Wild Robot Escapes' finds Roz navigating the dangers of urban life and humans with guns, while a toxic tide in 'The Wild Robot Protects' leaves the animals scrambling for ever more scarce resources. None of this is pedantic, nor is it puffed up with moral outrage. Brown knows children can spot such flaws a mile away. Like all great adventure tales, Brown's 'Wild Robot' stories embrace the wild world in all of its splendor, without ever flinching away from it. 'In the books, I just wanted to acknowledge that the world is complicated, and that people we think are bad aren't necessarily so,' says Brown, who is currently writing the fourth novel in the 'Wild Robot' series. 'Behind every bad action is a really complicated story, and I think kids can handle that. They want to be told the truth about things, they want to grapple with the tough parts of life.'
Newsweek
25-04-2025
- Automotive
- Newsweek
Women Are Running America's New Electric Vehicle Company
Chris Barman is one of the very few automaker chief executive officers. Barman leads Slate, the new electric vehicle startup that debuted its first model, a truck that can be turned into an SUV, yesterday. Tisha Johnson,Slate's head of design, is one of a handful of women to lead a car company's design department. Together, they are vital parts of Slate's story. Chris Barman, CEO of Slate. Chris Barman, CEO of Slate. Slate Both women drove a long and winding road to get to where they are today. Johnson told Newsweek that she started sketching in elementary school. "I've been designing cars for family and friends since I was in at least the fifth grade," she said. That passion led her to the Art Center College of Design, where her senior project focused on "bringing good design to people [where it] could have the most impact." She specifically designed a vehicle for the profile of a person who needed reliable transportation as a single parent on a tight budget. That idea targets the type of customer Slate is going after with its new model. Barman had a different path but with similar interests. "I had a very interesting career at a large original equipment manufacturer ... When I was an intern, I worked on the original Viper as a trainee. I worked on the Prowler as a vehicle line executive. I worked on helping to bring the second-generation 300, Charger and Challenger back... very exciting programs," she said. The CEO reflected: "The first car I drove was the old Ford Ranger. That was the farm truck, but the first car that was really mine was a Sundance America. The situation was that I had finished my freshman year at Purdue University in engineering. I had gotten an internship, and my parents didn't want me driving a used car. They wanted something reliable. "So, we went out, we cross-shopped, and the Plymouth Sundance had a version called the America, which was like a low budget version ... six-speed manual [transmission], no A/C and no FM radio. But hey, it fit our budget. I loved that car for the freedom it gave me, for the security it gave me. It was a new car. "When I thought about Slate and I reflected back, and I was like, 'Okay, the brand Plymouth is gone. The brand Pontiac is gone. The brand Saturn is gone. Like, where do people go? If you know, if I were to go back to that day, like, what would I be looking for? What would I be able to afford?'" Before she took her role at Slate, Johnson had stepped back from the automotive world. But, after a discussion with Barman, she was hooked on the concept. "I was at a moment where I felt like I really want to be part of this change. I got far enough away that I'd stepped out of the auto industry, but I really felt like this is where my calling is. This is where my passion is," she said. Johnson is doing more at Slate than just designing a truck and SUV. She got involved with the company very early on and has been able to design the model, work on branding and influence the DNA of the company. "It could not be more exciting to me," she said. "Tisha and Chris bring the ideal experience and leadership for Slate to deliver radically affordable, personalizable and reliable electric vehicles," said Slate CCO Jeremy Snyder. "Varying perspectives across genders are absolutely critical to defining the best possible product. Johnson was candid: "Women look at vehicles differently than men." She points to the views of aesthetics and functionality of a vehicle as varying depending on who you ask. "I find a lot of times, even as much of a gearhead as I am, when I sit in the car with one of my male colleagues, I'm looking at things differently. I'm looking at them from a mother perspective or stepmother perspective. Or, we just have different priorities when we get in the car." She can point to specific bits of the Slate model that were directly influenced by her personal experiences. "We have a very low console, and we created a really nice, big open space to accommodate a handbag. It's a nice place to put a purse that you've invested a few dollars into. You care about it. You want to keep it secure, but you also want to make sure that it stays clean. This is a thing that women know and talk about so we have this open tray, which also works for a computer bag." She also designed the vehicle to have a low load height, a "nice low step" into the bed, to accommodate the heights of a wide swath of people. Slate is targeting reaching up to the 95th percentile rather than at the 95th percentile, which is how she describes the industry as traditionally creating models. "We really want to make sure that we have women in the mix that are part of the development process, because we will naturally infuse our experiences into the conversation and into the outcomes. We find that when we do that, when we have attributes in the car that meet the needs of women, as a natural outcome we meet the needs of our family members. Women will be thinking about the experience for the child getting in and out of the car. They will be thinking about what other members of their household may need. And so just as a natural outcome, we're able to support a broader ecosystem of use," Johnson said. Barman agrees that women need to be involved in the development process for autos. She said: "I think it's important that there are more female leaders within the industry. Seventy to 80 percent of all purchase decisions are either made by or heavily influenced by women, and women need to be part of the process of designing such a complex consumer good as a vehicle. And, make sure that their perspective on how it's being used, how it should be designed, what the different use cases considered [are explored]. What resonates? What do women want to know about a vehicle? What's being provided to them? That's important. And the more women that we have in the industry and seating at the table where these discussions are happening, the better product we'll have to be able to provide to the consumer."
Los Angeles Times
18-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
In the documentary ‘Art for Everybody,' the dark side of a ‘Painter of Light' is exposed
If you think you've never seen a painting by Thomas Kinkade, think again. The late artist, who is said to have sold more canvases than any painter in history, created a cottage industry (pun intended) of ubiquitous, mass-produced art with his blissful landscapes, idyllic street scenes and cozy cottage tableaus. But the beatific, charismatic painter, who developed a rock-star following, was not all that he seemed. Miranda Yousef, in her feature directing debut, deftly takes on Kinkade's timely and intriguing story in the documentary 'Art for Everybody,' an absorbing, smartly assembled portrait of the mega rise and tragic fall of the Jekyll-and-Hyde-like artist. Kinkade's enormous 1990s-era success, which saw his work reproduced on everything from collectible plates to La-Z-Boy loungers, dovetailed with the period's culture war against the sexualization of art. The born-again Kinkade stepped into that breach, doubled down on the family values bit and became known as a creator of images that the Christian community, among other groups, could embrace. But how much of this was opportunism and how much was true belief? Yousef, who also edited the film, vividly dissects the artist's complicated life with the help of strong archival and personal footage as well as candid interviews with family members, colleagues and a solid array of art-world figures. She first tracks Kinkade from his impoverished Placerville, Calif., youth to his late-1970s days as a bohemian art student at UC Berkeley and Pasadena's ArtCenter College of Design, followed by his work as a background artist for Ralph Bakshi's 1983 animated fantasy 'Fire and Ice.' (Bakshi, now 86, enthuses here about Kinkade's talent and work ethic.) Kinkade's nascent pieces were often dark and provocative. But it was his move into painting — specifically his signature bucolic pastels with their near-heavenly lighted windows and skies — that would lead him and business partner Ken Raasch to create an art empire that, at its peak, reportedly brought in more than $100 million in annual sales. Kinkade's eponymous mall stores and QVC appearances were among his many lucrative outlets. He was dubbed the 'Painter of Light,' even though British artist J.M.W. Turner first claimed that title in the early 1800s. But from a sheer artistic point of view, was Kinkade's work any good? Or was it simply middlebrow kitsch? Los Angeles Times art critic Christopher Knight, who offers several unvarnished opinions here, asserts that Kinkade 'had a quite outsized cultural impact with really bad art.' Of his famed cottage paintings, Knight calls them 'a cliché piled upon a fantasy piled upon a bad idea. That cottage is where the Wicked Witch lives… I'm not going in there.' Journalist and author Susan Orlean ('The Orchid Thief'), who profiled Kinkade for a 2001 New Yorker article that lends this documentary its title, considers his output 'very sentimental, a little garish and kind of twee,' despite its admittedly broad appeal. Yet Kinkade, often seen in the film's clips as confident and ebullient with a kind of evangelist's fervor, pushes back against the naysayers by contending, 'All great art is not about art — all great art is about life.' And he took that belief to the bank, literally. But it's recent interviews with Kinkade's wife, Nanette (they married in 1982), and their four millennial daughters — Merritt, Chandler, Winsor and Everett — that provide the doc's emotional heft and shed valuable light on the tumultuous man behind the serene paintings. Yousef masterfully carries us along from the women's happier memories of Kinkade as a devoted family man to someone whose work and fame began to supplant the needs of his wife and kids. His family says he could be 'manic' and 'hard to connect with' and, from a few behind-the-scenes clips of Kinkade at promotional events, he seemed to treat his then-small daughters like props for the cameras. In addition, the artist comes off as smarmy and contentious at times, belying his 'holy man' persona and populist vibe. From around 2006 to 2010, a series of major business downturns, including a bankruptcy filing and several key lawsuits, led Kinkade into a downward spiral of troubling public behavior and substance abuse. (Footage showing Kinkade's compulsive need for booze is unsettling.) His family, angry and fearful, even staged an intervention to force the former teetotaler into rehab. Though he reluctantly went, the therapy didn't take. He died in 2012, at age 54, from an accidental overdose of alcohol and Valium. Ultimately, the centerpiece of the film is the Kinkade daughters' posthumous discovery of a vault that houses a trove of their father's unseen, artistically challenging work, much of which shows an underside that few people knew — or could have ever imagined. The women's reexamination of their complex dad's demons and flaws, vis-à-vis these unearthed creations, proves illuminating and poignant. Among the doc's other interview subjects are former Times investigative reporter Kim Christensen, who wrote several articles about Kinkade's legal troubles, which included art gallery fraud; Kinkade's college girlfriend, who recalls his sometimes hostile, dualistic nature; and artist Jeffrey Vallance, who curated the only major survey exhibition of Kinkade's work, held in 2004 at Cal State Fullerton's Grand Central Art Center.
