Los Angeles is known for many things from its movie business to the busiest highways in the country, but something that many people tend to forget is its wealth of quality art museums. There are only two other cities in America where you can see more—New York and Chicago. Even if you aren’t into old renaissance paintings or outlandish conceptual art, there will be a museum for you in Los Angeles.
Here are just a few of the best and most notable museums in LA:
The Broad— This museum is LA’s newest (for now) and most instagrammable museum of art. The museum opened just over a year ago and is already one of LA’s hottest destinations. It features many famous artists from Andy Warhol to Takashi Murakami to Jeff Koons. Even if you aren’t a fan of modern/contemporary art there will be something here that interests you, not only that, but it’s free! It is very popular, so you better be willing to wait in line to get in. It is also conveniently located only a few blocks from the Pershing Square metro station so you can get there easily on the red or purple lines.
We arrived in Anchorage around 2:00 AM, exchanging soft California sun for a biting cold. With the airport deserted and snow piled up outside of the clear glass doors of the warm airport sanctuary, we decided to spend the first night of our spring break sleeping at baggage claim. We would have 7 more days to camp and journey into the Artic and blistering cold of northern Alaska, so we would enjoy warmth while we still could.
Curled up in our sleeping bags constant noise blared through loudspeakers “PLEASE DON’T LEAVE BAGGAGE UNATTENDED.” Around 5am, and after a few restless hours of sleep Daniel suggested we start on the road. The Hertz rent-a-car was just opening up as a sleepy attendant dressed in the signature yellow and black vest wiped sleep from his eyes.
The crowd begged the live band to play the family-favorite tune, an upbeat Garba song that involved sitting patiently until the magic words “Sanedo lal lal sanedo” blasted out over the speakers and across the audience.
When the singer reached the refrain, everyone sprung up from their spots and landed spinning, dancing with swift turns, swinging arms and short, energetic hops. Colorful skirts and suave kurthas amassed into one giant kaleidoscope of dancers, all shouting and singing along as loudly as they possibly could. In the middle of it all, I was there.