SUNDAY, JAN. 6

Say what you will about Takashi Murakami, but the father of superflat certainly is provocative. Unfortunately, it’s in the boner-provoking rather than thought-provoking way, as evidenced by the pre-teen standing in front of a giant statue of an anime super hero lactating a lasso surrounded by canvases splattered with cartoon jizm and discretely rubbing its crotch. Elsewhere in the exhibit, an older ‘art mom’ was explaining the difference between boys and girls to her 4-year-old daughter in front of two anatomically correct statues of man-children. However lost in translation the sexual aspect of his work may be, Murakami (as always succeeds) at achieving vulgarity without being offensive, as well as being low-brow without becoming irrelevant. Unfortunately, Murakami’s lexicon—populated by maniacally happy daisies, large-mouthed anime children and psychedelic mushroom clouds taking the airborne form of skulls—is shown in a museum space that makes looking at art feel like a sample sale in an airplane hanger. Portions of the exhibition (partitioned into separate rooms) were wall-papered with Murakami’s signature flourescent daisies, creating a carsick sensation but at the same time evoking smiles because regardless of how shallow the image is, he does it all so damn well. Much controversy surrounds this show, primarily for the placement of a temporary Louis Vuitton (the luxury brand to which Murakami lent his design prowess) boutique meant to be part of the exhibit—albeit an interactive one that accepts American Express and Visa. Perhaps its place in the show is meant to be an indictment of consumer culture in Los Angeles, although I don’t know that I would give Murakami or the museum that much credit. I wanted to love this show. I like cute things. I like bright colors. I like ‘art.’ Unfortunately in this instance—and regardless of his excellent craftsmanship and attention to detail—I did not like them all together at the same time. Murakami’s work winks at you a little too obviously and much like the luxury brand he designs for, when the message becomes too easily attainable, it loses its value. When I asked an art historian friend for his thoughts on the exhibition, I was hoping for a critical and professional perspective. Instead, he said, ‘I ran through it. It made me want candy and death, but at the same time.’ Indeed. (KCH-R)