Jeff Koons | Pink Panther
22:04 Share

You're listening to an Airwave Media Podcast. Who Arted Weekly Art History for All Ages is sponsored by BetterHelp. It's the winter. I don't venture outside without my heated vest under my coat. Honestly, I don't like to venture outside more than I have to.

I just want to curl up under a blanket, sip some cocoa, and watch a detective show. Watching a detective crack the case, catch the bad guy, and wrap everything up in the span of an episode is just satisfying and relaxing. It may not be fine art, but I grew up on cozy mysteries, and it's my comfort entertainment.

Therapy is a way to bring yourself some comfort that lasts beyond a season. If you're thinking of starting therapy, give BetterHelp a try. It's entirely online, designed to be convenient, flexible, and suited to your schedule. Just fill out a brief questionnaire to get matched with a licensed therapist and switch therapists anytime for no additional charge.

Find comfort this December with BetterHelp. Visit betterhelp.com slash whoarted to get 10% off your first month. That's betterhelp, H-E-L-P dot com slash whoarted.

This episode is brought to you by Amazon Prime. There's nothing sweeter than bacon cookies during the holidays. With Prime, I get all my ingredients delivered right to my door, fast and free. No last minute store trips needed. And of course, I blast my favorite holiday playlist on Amazon Music. It's the ultimate soundtrack for creating unforgettable memories. From streaming to shopping, it's on Prime. Visit Amazon.com slash Prime to get more out of whatever you're into.

I feel like Who Art Ed. Who Art Ed? Mr. Wood Art Ed Me. Either way, it works. I know. That's not a good start. Welcome to Who Art Ed Weekly Art History for All Ages. I'm your host Kyle Wood and today we're going to be looking at Jeff Koons. Jeff Koons was born in York, Pennsylvania in 1955 to Henry and Gloria Koons.

His father was a furniture dealer and interior decorator, while his mother was a seamstress. Growing up, Koons showed an early interest in art. By the age of eight, he was creating replicas of old master paintings, which he signed and sold in his father's shop. He was a naturally gifted salesman, even going door-to-door in his neighborhood to sell wrapping paper and candy to raise money for art supplies.

As a teenager, Koons became fascinated by Salvador Dali. Koons often tells the story of calling the artist's hotel in New York City and managing to arrange a meeting. He described the impact of that encounter, saying that when he called Dali, he was a bit surprised the hotel actually put him through to the artist's room. And Dali answered the phone, saying that if Koons could be in New York that weekend, he would meet him in the hotel lobby at noon.

Of course, Kunz took him up on that and said he was struck by Dali's generosity with his time. Salvador Dali has been criticized for his flamboyant attire and outlandish stunts, but in Kunz's telling, those eccentricities of Dali were an extension of his generous spirit and that he would dress up and go to these lengths so that when people met with him, he could make them feel like it was a special experience.

And he also said that Dali would give his attention to everyone he met, even a random guy who called his hotel out of the blue and made him feel like he was the most important person in the room. They later attended an exhibition of Dali's work together, which left a lasting impression on the young Kunz. He said he left New York after that encounter feeling like the art world was accessible to him and a space he would like to inhabit.

After high school, Koons enrolled in the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore, where he continued to develop his interest in surrealism, painting these sort of neo-surrealist landscapes.

In 1974, he saw an exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art. It was Jim Nutt. Jim Nutt and Chicago imagists were bright and poppy, but they also had a personal iconography, and they reference art history to bring all this together in a unique and bold way.

This exhibition was a pivotal moment for Kuhns, leading him to transfer to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago to study with Nutt and other imagists like Ed Paschke. Kuhns not only met Paschke, but he worked in his studio stretching canvases and doing other assisting work for him. Kuhns says that Paschke taught him the politics of the art world.

He also showed him how he got his source material and taught him that everything is already out in the world. You simply need to look for it. While studying in Chicago, Kuhn supported himself by working at the Museum of Contemporary Art. He would help hang pieces, and when he moved to New York, he tried to get similar work at MoMA. He called them repeatedly asking for work, and they finally said they had an opening at the information desk.

He was known for his flamboyant style and eccentric behavior, probably a bit of a nod to Dali there. He would wear a tuxedo to work and dyed his hair red and grew a pencil-thin mustache. Now, let's face it, it was classic, cringy, sort of attention-seeking behavior, but attention doesn't pay the bills. In 1980, he became licensed as a commodities broker, selling mutual funds at First Investors Corporation.

Now, that time in finance was short-lived. He left after a summer working for his parents in Florida. But soon he returned to New York and continued that career in finance, first at Clayton Brokerage Company and then Smith Barney. He specialized in commodities trading, specifically cotton futures. Kuhns was reportedly a successful broker, using his earnings to finance his artistic endeavors.

He was known for being very persuasive in his sales, but also an ability to take risks, qualities that would later translate into his art career. During this time, Koons was still creating art in his spare time. In 1985, Koons decided to leave Wall Street to dedicate himself entirely to his art. Now, to be honest, for a long time, I was dismissive of Koons' work because of that Wall Street past.

I had heard that he worked on Wall Street before he made it big as an artist, and I assumed that he was just like an investor treating the art world like a commodities market, gaming the system for profit. It didn't help that his first major artistic breakthrough consisted of ready-mades like vacuum cleaners and a plexiglass case.

I honestly just sort of glanced over it and saw it as the commodification of art by a shallow and lazy broker rather than an artist creating a conceptual exploration of consumer culture, mass production, and the relationship between art and commerce. Of course, ironically, that was me as a lazy student not delving deep enough into the story to really understand the work.

And while I first assumed he was a broker turned artist and then assumed that he was simply using Wall Street to support the art, the truth is that career choices may help shape a person's perspective and they reflect some aspects of a person's personality. But the job doesn't define the person. The truth is often more complex.

I found an interesting quote from Koons in an interview he gave to Chicago Magazine back in 2008. When he was asked about his time as a stockbroker, he said, quote, I always enjoyed sales because I saw sales as communication. It's really about connecting with people.

And I think that quote is really telling about how both of these fields that seem so very, very different can actually come together in a way that makes sense.

Kuhn said that Dali and Surrealism had helped him with his inward journey and self-reflection. But after that, he said the last thing he wanted to do was focus inward. According to Kuhn, after accepting oneself, the higher level is to then accept other people. And that is why his work is more outward looking. He focuses on art as a form of communication.

People get caught up on the money, the aesthetics, the different media, and so on, but it's really all about communication. In the late 70s, like around 1977, he began working with mirrors, putting little inflatables on mirrors. Inflatables seem like an interesting topic to explore. I mean, they're toys, but also inflatable boats and safety devices. There's something very joyous and life-affirming about an inflatable.

In the 80s, he had a rapid rise in the art world. In 1980, he debuted the New series, featuring everyday objects like vacuum cleaners encased in plexiglass boxes. It challenged traditional notions of art and value. He then solidified his reputation with Equilibrium, like 1985, showcasing basketball suspended in water tanks, exploring themes of balance and perfection.

By the late 1980s, Koons achieved international recognition with his controversial Banality series, featuring sculptures like the Pink Panther and Michael Jackson and Bubbles, which embraced kitsch and popular culture, pushing the boundaries of taste and challenging the established art world hierarchy.

It's the embrace of kitsch that I think was most interesting. I constantly see articles in my newsfeed about different art and design trends, what's in and out, things that were all the rage but now seem dated. The thing I like about Koons is that, from what I gather, he has an earnest appreciation for things that some might call tacky.

When you think about it, people's lawn decorations, those, you know, reflective mirrored gazing balls they put out in the garden or holiday lights, all of those things are acts of generosity put out for passersby to see and enjoy and make the world a more beautiful and joyous place. And while that art is put out for others to enjoy, it also reflects the tastes and priorities of those who put it out into the world.

The ornamental pieces people collect and hold on to often have stories behind them that run far deeper and make them all the more beautiful. That's the case with Kunz's Celebration series. In 1994, shortly after Kunz's separation with his first wife, Elona Stahler, Stahler took Ludwig, their then year-and-a-half, two-year-old son, from their home in New York, and she took him to Italy.

This action violated a U.S. court order granting Kuhn's joint custody. Kuhn spent the next five years fighting for his parental rights in Italian courts, but the Italian Supreme Court ultimately ruled in favor of Stahler granting her sole custody of Ludwig. He was gutted by this whole thing, and he said, "...that's why I made celebration, to create work that my son could understand."

I was trying to communicate to him." End quote. Now, over the span of about a decade, Koons and his studio assistants created monumental sculptures and photorealistic paintings that pay homage to life's milestones and joyful occasions like birthdays, weddings, the birth of a child. This is where we got the iconic balloon dog sculpture, the inflatable rabbits, and the Play-Doh.

In 2013, his Orange Balloon Dog sold for $58 million, setting a record for the highest price paid for a work by a living artist. That record was later shattered by a Hockney painting that sold for $90 million. But in 2019, Koons reclaimed the record when his Balloon Rabbit sold for $91 million.

And of course, as long as I'm talking about art records being shattered, it seems worth mentioning some shattered art as well. In 2023, a woman in Florida accidentally bumped into a pedestal, causing a small porcelain version of the balloon dog to fall to the ground and shatter.

People joked that the breaking of the piece was happening and the broken pieces scattered on the floor could be a new work of art. Apparently, some collectors even reached out to the gallery inquiring if they could buy the shards in a move that feels reminiscent of Banksy's Shredded Balloon Girl. Except, of course, Kuhn didn't plan for his work to self-destruct.

If you're wondering what happened to the woman who knocked it over and whether she was made to pay for the damage, I'm sure she felt awful, but she didn't have to pay for it. The artwork was, of course, insured, and the gallery did not seem to have a you-break-it-you-bought-it policy.

Now, after a short break, I want to focus on Kunz's Pink Panther from 1988 because that's the piece from the AP Art History curriculum. And when I can, I always want to help those high schoolers across the U.S. who might be trying to cram for the test. For over 50 years, Burlington's legacy has been great deals on coats for all weather conditions. So before you're caught unprepared for the winter weather...

Head to Burlington for name brands, quality items, and surprising fits for every family member. Stock up on coats, sweaters, and accessories before the cold hits so you can finally stop avoiding the elements and start living comfortably. Warm up at your nearest Burlington location less than one mile away. Burlington. Deals. Brands. Wow.

Looking for a pickup truck to get just about anything done? Look no further. The Chevy Silverado EV isn't just the most powerful Silverado ever, with next-level towing capability and technology. It also offers game-changing versatility with the available Multiflex mid-gate and tailgate, which means Silverado EV helps you carry large, bulky, and oddly-shaped items up to nearly 11 feet in length. Chevrolet. Together, let's drive. Visit Chevrolet.com to learn more.

Jeff Koons' Pink Panther is an exploration of popular culture, kitsch, and the cult of celebrity. The life-sized porcelain sculpture is part of the Banality series, and it presents a cartoonish Pink Panther clutching a scantily clad blonde woman, both figures rendered in this sort of saccharine style.

The work raises questions about the nature of art, the role of the artist, and the boundaries between, quote, high and low culture. Pink Panther is a sculpture that looks almost like one of those standard cast figurines, but it's much larger, standing around 41 inches high.

It's made of glazed porcelain, a material often associated with delicate figurines and decorative objects. The sculpture depicts the Pink Panther, a beloved cartoon character in a seemingly romantic embrace with a blonde woman reminiscent of a 1950s pinup model. The woman's attire is minimal and she's overall presented in this overtly sexualized manner.

The Pink Panther, typically portrayed as a mischievous but ultimately harmless character, is imbued with a suggestive and almost sort of predatory quality. Now the fabrication of the Pink Panther is a testament to Koons' meticulous approach

But also his reliance on skilled artisans. I mean, Kuhn's is very hands-on, detail-oriented, and very meticulous about his craft. But he also has a massive team of artists working under his supervision to carry out and execute his vision. He often conceives of the work but doesn't physically create them.

Now, the process of this involved creating a detailed model, then making a mold, casting the porcelain, glazing it, and firing it to achieve just the right finish. But it's not just about the physical piece itself. It's also about this work in relation to other art theory and criticism.

Critics from the previous generation, like Clement Greenberg, advocated for modernist aesthetics. Think like Pollock's drippy paint, the truth to materials and all that. It was a rejection of the cute, the decorative, the mass-produced work that was intended to be as broadly appealing as possible.

Postmodern artists, think pop artists like Warhol and Lichtenstein, shifted away from the original, unique, raw, emotive painting and sculpted forms. They embraced photography, reproduction, and subjects from mass media, but they always held themselves somewhat apart from popular culture. They maintained this sort of critical distance and a self-awareness about everything, but Kuhn's just dove

dove fully into embracing Kitsch.

Now, getting back to this specific example, Pink Panther is laden with symbolism, and it's open to multiple interpretations. On a surface level, the work is a playful juxtaposition of childhood nostalgia and adult sexuality. The Pink Panther, a figure associated with innocence and humor, is placed in this charged context with a woman who looks like Jane Mansfield, creating a sense of dissonance and discomfort.

This deliberate clash challenges the viewer's expectations and forces them to confront the complexities of desire and representation. It can also be seen as a commentary on the male gaze and the objectification of women.

I think there's something interesting about the idea that the figures represent a clash between innocence and adult desires, and it's made in the form of a figurine that's typically dismissed as tacky, bad art for the masses, but it's put in a fine art context.

And I do think that context matters because if I saw this same figurine in my uncle's house, it would feel creepy. The museum provides a sort of safe space for people to comfortably engage with these ideas, the feelings, the conflicts, and crass notions permeating our culture that people generally don't like to talk about.

It's all out on display in this kitschy aesthetics that seemingly everyone considers tacky or poor taste, and yet millions of people have bought and cherished things like Hummel figurines for decades. The Pink Panther and the Blonde Woman are both products of popular culture. They're mass-produced icons that have been commodified and consumed by millions.

Koons elevates these commonplace figures to the status of fine art, questioning the traditional hierarchies of taste and value. While this particular piece may not be my personal favorite, I always appreciate artists who earnestly embrace the everyday wonders and have the strength to lift up the people, the ideas, and the aesthetics that others look down on.

This concludes this week's episode of Who Arted, part of the Airwave Media Podcast Network. If you found this tolerable, please leave a rating or review on your favorite podcast app. You can find images of the work being discussed this week and every week on social media at Who Arted Podcast on Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok. And of course, on the website, whoartedpodcast.com. Podcast done.

All right, we're all set for the party. I've trimmed the tree, hung the mistletoe, and paired all those weird-shaped knives and forks with the appropriate cheeses. And I plugged in the Bartesian. Bartesian? It's a home cocktail maker that makes over 60 premium cocktails, plus a whole lot of seasonal favorites, too. I just got it for $5.

50 off. So how about a Klaus Mappolitan or a mistletoe margarita? I'm thirsty. Watch. I just pop in a capsule, choose my strength, and-- Wow. It's beginning to feel more seasonal in here already. If your holiday party doesn't have a bartender, then you become the bartender, unless you've got a Bartesian, because Bartesian crafts every cocktail perfectly in as little as 30 seconds. And I just got it for $50 off. 'Tis the season to be jollier.

Add some holiday flavor to every celebration with the sleek, sophisticated home cocktail maker, Bartesian. Get $50 off any cocktail maker at bartesian.com slash cocktail. That's B-A-R-T-E-S-I-A-N dot com slash cocktail.