Jeff Koons, love him or hate him, you’re sure to recognize him, his work, that is. His work is big, really big, slick, really slick, and pop, really pop. Sometimes it’s a little naughty, but Bravo naughty, not HBO naughty. Naughty with a wink. Naughty with a nod. Naughty with distance. He works in happy colors, neon orange, viridian green, Yves Klein blue. He isn’t afraid of metallic finishes either. He understands the art of seducing the masses. It isn’t really all that complicated, just appeal to the magpie level of visual recognition in the average viewer, in other words make it shiny, make it bright.

    But he does know how to have fun, that’s for sure.  He makes giant balloon animals the size of buses with the sheen of a Ducati. They are a contemporary sculptural nod to tromp l’oeil artists of centuries past with their ability to represent heavy metal as the lightest of the light and silliest of the silly materials, inflatable rubber. I promise you. They are not. I took it upon myself to tap one while the guards back was turned when his show was up at the Serpentine Gallery in London in 2009. I didn’t try it when I was  checking in on the new wing of an old haunt in L.A., the Eli Broad extension to LACMA. I knew it would ring solid. These pieces feel different depending on where they’re installed. Because of their reflectivity, the surrounds of the space become part of the object. That’s a good thing if the surrounds are interesting, and bad if they are a contradiction. In my opinion, the Broad installation of his balloon puppy was a disaster considering the fact that the space was designed specifically for the collection, all ugly rafters and contradicting angles.

    Apparently, the most controversial thing about his work is that he has others make it. So do architects. So do filmmakers. The fact that that is the most controversial thing is the more interesting aspect of his work for me. In other words, for all its size and glitz and glam, it doesn’t have much to say at all. It is relatable in a flamboyant sort of way. So was Liberace, and you know what, after a lot of thought, that’s the most apt comparison I can think of. Love him or hate him, Jeff Koon’s style is definitely his own.