Down a back street in (almost) North Philly, you'll find a locked building with bars on the door. Ring the buzzer, state your purpose, climb four flights of parking-garage quality stairs, hang a left and you've found it. No, it's not a downtown crack den, but rather a small art gallery named Vox Populi. Don't allow the brightly white-washed walls, the gray and smiling man behind the counter, the traditional opera music, nor the absence of other people to convince you that you've finally reached heaven. You haven't, and if you were all too familiar with the crack den setting, you never will.
Charles LaBelle's original installation is not available, but the digital documentation of his masterpiece Exterior Song-Hollywood is still on display. LaBelle stole various lines from legendary David Bowie's song "Cracked Actor" and painted them onto junkyard mattresses which he strategically placed around L.A. Being able to drive past a crumpled mattress proclaiming "Crack Baby Crack" or "Suck Baby Suck" is really what makes Hollywood the place where dreams are born. Bowie's brilliance is the true voice of the people, and his heart-felt "Cause I just want your sex" is ingeniously positioned on a ready and waiting mattress.
The next room contains a series of photos entitled "Blue," which, crazy as it may sound focuses on the presence of that very color in everyday shots. Ironically, it is the color red, caused by a most unpredictable shot that carries the exhibit. Mixed in with the photos of cars and blue sky, Kyungmi Shin surprised the viewer with puddling blood emerging from under the blue body tarp of an unfortunate accident. The innocence of the rest of the piece combined with the melodic opera in the background does not prepare the viewer for the shock of mortal crimson in a photographic sea of azure.
The rest of the exhibit is fancily displayed friendship bracelets and dirty fingerprints in frames, but still fairly fun to observe. The entire gallery will hardly hold your attention for more than 25 minutes, so be sure to go hungry so you can hop on over to Chinatown for some dim sum. Or if you're so inclined, trek a few blocks north for your very own crack baby crack -- just remember David Bowie won't be there to save you.
