Things I Love in my Neighborhood: Part III

Tell me this isn't awesome! Something of an LA landmark, the House of Davids has put on its Christmas finery.



My honey and I walked up the street to snap these photos last night. Just to clarify, the 19 Davids and the ornate fencework are permanent; the fake snow, Santa hats, lights, amplified electronic Christmas Carols (yes I know you can't hear the music, but imagine the lights and sound coordinated in a rich visual and aural concert to delight the senses), the black Santa heads, the new year, and Mr. and Mrs. Claus are all part of the holiday extravaganza.



Proof that too much of a good thing is sometimes just the right amount. While we were snapping our pics, at least 10 other cars stopped to admire the spectacle. Everyone wore the same dopey grin (bumper car smiles), which suggests to me that the people behind this house are, in their bizarre way, really giving a great gift to whoever happens by. Because you can't see this house and not smile, not feel like giggling, not feel somehow lighter for having seen it.



What remains something of a conundrum, however, are the intentions of those real people behind the house. I know, I know, after years of schooling I should recognize the Death of the Author and realize that once a piece of art is put in public, it becomes the property of the public to be interpreted in any number of ways. But still, it's curious, isn't it? Are they just tacky, with the 19 Davids? Or are they astutely commenting on taste, wealth, and other social truths? The black Santas certainly suggest the offering of a gentle racial critique - that we need to broaden our horizons of perception - but the Mr. and Mrs. Claus, I suspect, are a more simple representation of the couple that lives there, bedecked as they are in what I can only guess are their old glasses. And clearly the marking of the New Year is simply that, the celebration of time elapsing that we all more or less engage in at the year's end. Do they love Christmas, or do they love being an obnoxious spectacle? Do they even see this as an obnoxious spectacle?

It's fascinating to mull over, with no ready answers at hand, as any theory can be quickly knocked down by some contradictory element of the whole that is the House of Davids at Christmastime.

Foucault, according to Tom, suggested that life be lived as a piece of art. Whether that art be Precious Moments figurines, a dash of Vegas, or a bit of the old classics recontextualized into a new milieu doesn't really matter.