I spend a fair time, in any gallery I visit, examining the people in it. This exhibition, to my amusement, was particularly fruitful, mainly due to several rooms labeled something like „this part of the exhibition is inappropriate for minors“. Jeff Koons makes it happen. His piece „Exaltation„, which is basically the chintziest version of a cum-shot I’ve ever seen, gave me the opportunity to witness myriads of appalled, disgusted, intrigued, even genuinely compunctious reactions. This is not to say mine was that of a chronically underwhelmed been-there-done-that. But the stimulus satiation, invoked by the motive itself, and more so the kitschy style, together with that title made me laugh hard. Another nice place to stand and watch was the room in which an untitled piece by Maurizio Cattelan stood, or rather: lay, to tickle reactions out of visitors. Seeing little kids widen their eyes in terror, teenage girls jump into the arms of their boyfriends, literally squeaking, the empty expressions on adult faces as they practice composure, it was all a treat. Don’t get me wrong – this is pure interest in the extraordinary, no masochism.
Beware one golden room full of old-school hip-hop. My ragged body’s reaction resulted in flight, I could not withstand that room’s blast, not in my state. Also, be sure not to spend too much time in front of the McG/Takashi Murakami video of Kirsten Dunst singing The Vapors‚ „Turning Japanese“, lest your brains come squirming from your ears. See that here.
Now, go out! It’s worth a visit.