Amusement is Art

Sunday morning, I started my day off strong and got stood up on a date. Supposedly she lost her phone and wasn’t able to make it. Whatever it was, oh man she missed out. I embarked on a magical Los Angeles Sunday morning chatting with furniture addicts and eclectic collectors at an art market, learning the gossip of the different collectors that I’ve had the fortune or misfortune of meeting. Talked rugby with an Australian, and ventured into the unknown and tried some non-alcoholic aperitifs that I likely won’t try again. I sat down with my new friends from Fig and Oak and delved into design talk and showed one another our favorite interiors as of late. I picked up a Frank Lloyd Wright book, sat my butt down on a 1970s Italian folding chair, and let the pages turn.

I was content.

With no set plan until work, I started walking back to my car… and then I saw it. The entrance to Luna Luna.

My curiosity washed over me like a wave breaking at shore. There was no stopping me.

In 1987, the world’s greatest artists got together and built an art amusement park with one another led by an Austrian artist named Andre Heller who used the extraordinary as his preferred medium. After, the show disappeared into shipping containers never to see the light of day again until now.

Starstruck, I began my journey through Luna Luna, enchanted by the man on stilts towering above me posing for the cameraman. Arpeggiated, crescendo-ing carnival synth music bellowed through the warehouse entrancing me in a dreamlike state. Lights glimmered from nearby rides and when smooth jazz rung out of Basquiat’s Ferris wheel, I wasn’t even surprised. I joined a family in trotting through David Hockney’s geometric forest and I let go of my inhibitions and allowed myself to feel the true elements of wonder and amusement as I galloped by.

Admittingly, I was a bit cynical of the display seeing that It’s meant to be truly experienced as an interactive amusement park. it should be in a field in Woodstock and the entire world can flock to it as they did in Hamburg, Germany in 1987. Of course, it is the bureaucracy of the art world and the estates that directly affect that ever being an opportunity, but I digress.

Quite frankly, there was a moment when I became disappointed… disappointed that something of this nature would likely never happen again. That this kind of desire and implementation will also likely never be able to form together as naturally as it did in the 1980s.

There is a peculiar sensation of being on the brink of crying when you can feel the emotion traveling through your cheeks and the tension between your eyes growing weaker and releasing. The disappointment withered away as my smile grew larger.

In one area there is a video playing that chronicles the entire creation of the park. There is no narration or words… just inspiring, happy, carnival music and the artists at work. It’s hilariously bold and deeply moving. I felt the same collective awe and emotionality as I imagine the neighborhood did at the end of the film, Be Kind Rewind, starring Jack Black and Mos Def.

Start at 3:50— this truly looks like a hoot.

I feel like in every generation there is a point in time that we collectively could do something revolutionary. Every single day there is opportunity to be had, people to be met, and conversations to be had. All it takes is a vision and some willing participants to make anything happen. This amusement park was the first and last of its kind. Why is that?

What happened to amusement? When I think of an amusement park, I think of getting “arrested” at Six Flags on my 8^th-grade graduation field trip for pulling the water cup trick and getting caught. I think about rollercoasters and death-defying thrill machines. The giant drop, cotton candy, and long lines.

Now I think about experience. About awe. About sparking that kid inside of you, that spirit and flame that can never be extinguished. Luna Luna should be an example of what the extraordinary looks and feels like.

Me getting married to Frank Lloyd Wright.

Art is to play. Artists are playing. People are not just spectators but experiencers experiencing. Enjoying, laughing, crying, playing, being goofballs, and dancing. We need all of these activities right now. We need them to remind us what life is about and what we have to offer to each other and ourselves.

We need more guerilla art. We need more art happenings for the general public. We need more artists to be open to making art that might not give you money, fame, or prominence. We need more art for art-making sake. We need more organizations and companies dedicated to funding art programs without elitist backdrops.

There is so much need for so much amusement.

If you ever have ideas and don’t know what to do with them or where they should go, send me an email. You can be from anywhere in the world. I want to hear your ideas and I want to help you make them happen. Tell me as much or as little as you’d like. Great things happen when you talk about ideas.

Go look in your notes app or dig through your mind… what haven’t you done that you would like to do? 2024 is right around the corner—Let’s make art for art-making sake. Let’s make art for our collective amusement.

Thanks for being here and see you in 2024!

Eli, MAXIMA