Let's
Entertain
Portland
Art Museum
1219
SW Park Ave.
10
am-5 pm Tuesday-Sunday
Ends
Sept. 17
$7.50
Check out aen.walkerart.org,
a website launched along with Let's Enter-tain that
exhibits web-based work by more than 40 artists.
Portland Art
Museum's website, www.pam.org,
gives a comprehensive look at each piece in the show. For
more, try www.walkerart.org/va/letsentertain.
The exhibition
catalogue, Let's Entertain: Life's Guilty Pleasures,
has silver bands across its cover. Scratch the silver away
for secret messages.
Oregonian fans who read D.K. Row's July 7 A&E
review of Let's Entertain, the current exhibition
at the Portland Art Museum, might expect this show to be
about "sex, sex and more sex." Actually, Let's Entertain
isn't just about sex, as Row claims. But you should still
go and see it.
The exhibition, which presents more than 40 artists' responses
to marketing, amusement and the entertainment industry,
spans the past 25 years, using many of the same methods
(bright lights, big noise) as the entertainment industry.
Some of the works are simply lifeless, while others are
completely captivating. Despite its unevenness, it's a worthwhile
experience.
Experience is the operative word. Let's Entertain
is a social show, one best seen with a group of people--preferably
uninhibited people. Many of the pieces succeed only when
audience members interact with each other or with the artwork
itself. Let's Entertain has been called an art party,
and it encourages visitors to turn the museum into an adult
playground.
On the first floor, visitors can watch a plethora of laser
discs, dance on a shrunken disco floor, dress up as furry
animals, or browse the Yen Boutique. Some of the laser discs
are fascinating. Kyupi Kyupi, a Japanese troupe, has created
a Star Trek spoof that includes pizza and plastic
penises. Rineke Dijkstra filmed dance club teenagers for
The Buzz Club/Mystery World. The teens primp, smoke,
smile and dance for a camera most of them are too scared
to acknowledge.
The show's unevenness becomes apparent on the second floor,
where most of the more recent works are. While Moriko Mori's
plastic Enlightenment Capsule is gorgeous and mesmerizing,
Philippe Parreno's laser disc of multicolored trash bags
attached to a tree is about as interesting as, well, a bunch
of bags tied to a tree. The elements of fun and play are
alive on the second floor (especially with a giant foosball
table), but they aren't consistently strong.
The second floor does contain the best piece of the show,
Olaf Breuning's Boomcyclone, a dramatic and iMac-styled
vacuum cleaner. Boomcyclone is funny, compelling and original.
The main purpose behind all of the works is to draw people
into an artistic experience using modern marketing techniques.
Most of the pieces succeed at capturing people's attention,
but a few then either overstate or understate a theme. This
contributes to the entire show's unevenness. Doug Aiken's
These restless minds, for example, is a cluster of
televisions that show typical life situations narrated by
auctioneers. While the set-up of the monitors, the sound
of the auctioneers' voices and the videography are all eye-catching,
the viewer is left to wonder, "So?"
Granted, it is a difficult task to exaggerate an image
for attention and then be subtle about the image's meaning.
Of the entire show, Andreas Gursky's May Day III
accomplishes this best. His photo of a large group of people
gathered at a rock show immediately grabs your attention
and then gracefully works its way under your skin as it
discloses greater meanings.
There are some strong connections between the works, but
the range in degrees of playfulness and obviousness disguises
some of those links. The older works seem to be connected
by post-modern ideas of disruption and deconstruction. But
Michel Foucault is dead, Jacques Derrida is out of vogue
and the more recent works don't fit the typical post-modern
scheme.
One attendee asked if, perhaps, the show was just the Emperor's
new clothes. It isn't. For the patient viewer, there are
distinct thematic ties among the works.
Culture is not an elite pursuit any more, as it was in
the 19th century. Our world is now dominated by the big
group, and the 20th century showed the birthing pains of
this trend through totalitarianism, fascism, communism,
the multi-movieplex, the shopping mall and the suburbs.
Let's Entertain easily speaks to the tensions in our
mass-dominated world. Quite simply, good marketing must
have mass appeal. But at a deeper level, a lot of the works
recognize our struggles to be individuals within the group
and probe the ramifications of a mass society. Must we always
just be members of someone else's fan club? What if our
deepest fears are true and we are not particularly special?
Another theme is decoration. Humans cannot escape the need
to gussy things up; form does not always follow function.
Our recent fascinations with Victoriana, Art Deco and glitter
gel speak to our current views on appearance. So do works
such as Nice Little Girl's Wonderful Dressing-up Room,
Boomcyclone and Vexation Island. They seem
to ask whether or not we are trying to make life more appealing
than it really is.
Not surprisingly, Cindy Sherman's untitled film stills,
which are scattered throughout the downstairs galleries,
address the themes of mass culture and individual decoration
equally.
It will be interesting to see how Portlanders respond to
Let's Entertain. Those who have engaged in knock-down-drag-outs
over billboards might find it discouraging. Intel and Nike
employees may find artistic validation for their pursuits.
People with urges to dress up as furry animals and hop around
museums will experience psychological release. There's a
lot in Let's Entertain for a lot of people--not counting
those looking for sex, sex and more sex.
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