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Hammer Bash
We dropped by the ""Hammer Bash" last night. First of all, great name for a party. Also, it's always fun to be in a museum at night, like the characters in The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler -- Thursday nights at MOCA are good for this too. The weird weather hadn't gotten really weird yet, and it was only a bit chilly, and very pretty, sipping wine or cocktails on the balcony above the courtyard.
The bash celebrated the last few days of the Masters of American Comics exhibit. The exhibit had its pros and cons as the basis for a party, as it takes a while to read all the text in the comics, although it is fun to read the Dick Tracy dialogue aloud in an excessively dramatic voice. If, say, part of one's agenda included scoping out eligible bachelors (of which there were several, only some of them weird), the comics should have also made good conversation fodder -- although it might have helped to have some actual knowledge of comics, rather than blurting out queries like, "Are there actual pirates in Terry and the Pirates?" Ah well.
Free admission included not only the comics exhibit, but the rest of the museum as well, including the Corots, Cassatts, Rembrandts, and other masters from Armand Hammer's personal collection.
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