7 minute read
IN PERFECT HARMONY
hat brings me to my attempt at discovering Jeffrey Lynn Koons, T the man behind the art. He is an enigma to be sure, speaking in philosophical riddles, punctuating my name politely throughout our conversation, skin glowing with the late afternoon sunshine streaming into the office of his Hell’s Kitchen studio. He exudes a radiant kind of peace as he leapfrogs from art to philosophy, past to present to future. I almost expect a halo to briefly make an appearance: the artist, as an angelic man.
He is speaking about the overall underlying theme of his hybrid of conceptual, minimalistic, and pop art, work that has spanned over 40 years since his first solo exhibition in 1980 — how he has shaped contemporary aesthetics through thought-provoking, ebullient sculptures that engage with pop culture, mass media, and art history. These sculptures include the towering floral and steel Puppy, an ode to joy located at the Guggenheim Bilbao, and Rabbit, a fantasy-inspired piece that currently holds the world record for the most expensive piece made by a living artist. (It was sold by Christie’s New York in 2019 for $91.1 million.) The mirror-polished, stainless-steel Popeye sold for $28.2 million, and Balloon Dog (Orange) sold for $58.4 million.
But back to the themes. Joy, love, fantasy — these seem obvious. But they are not, as a whole, what Koons intended. His huge metal balloon animals, topiary sculptures, presentations of images as they pass through time — combining art historical references with vernacular images and objects — as well as sculptures of recognizable figures such as Michael Jackson and Bubbles, a gigantic gold-leaf porcelain statue of the pop singer with his pet chimpanzee, and his Made in Heaven series (centered on him and his then-wife in sexually explicit poses) all demonstrate a different kind of feeling, in his opinion.
“I think my work has an underlying aspect of empowerment,” he declares. (I didn’t see that one coming. Yet, art is subjective, right?)
I must look surprised, because he says, “The reason for that, Laura, is that I was always very insecure about not knowing what art was, coming from a very middle-class background,” he explains. “I was very, what they would say, talented. I could always draw things and make perfect ellipses and shading and make amazing pastels and paintings when I was younger. At the time, I thought I had to follow the rules, and that was confining. But when I went to art school and had my first art history lesson, I realized, Wow, art is something that connects you to all the human disciplines. Art is about sociology, psychology, philosophy. I loved its connectiveness, and this sense of opening oneself up to the world. [What I found is that] art is something that happens inside the viewer; it is really the unique individual essence of our potential. That’s the only thing of value that’s taking place.”
He discusses growing up in York, Pennsylvania, and how his ensuing years at the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore and the Art Institute of Chicago shaped him. “I was not really brought up going to museums. I didn’t know who Braque or Cézanne were, so I always wanted to be involved with an art that was really removing any judgment. Whatever your cultural background is, it can’t be anything other than what that is, so the dialogue has very much been about acceptance and the removal of judgment.”
What he appreciates most about the art world is that it is a community, and that in it, he has a sense of acceptance and affinity. “The art world has become very vast. There are opportunities for so many to participate now — incredible technologies … the personal computer, the internet, NFTs. I think to be part of a group is so important in the sense of belonging. I think back to the avant-garde. I love the idea of Duchamp, Picabia, Dalí — the surrealists. Even though they had different feuds going on, they were part of a group, they were part of a similar time and looking at similar challenges. But to be able to be part of something, technology has really given us that. It’s given us information that we can have an understanding of being a part of even more things, and even a part of larger groups. There are more and more opportunities for us to experience connectiveness. We’re interconnected, at this moment and in history. And our future is interconnected, too.”
I am surprised by this, telling him that personally, art seems like an entirely solitary venture: one that the artist much looks within for. But he respectfully disagrees. “I’ve done it for decades as a young artist sitting in a room by myself, making paintings and working on projects. And you do have to be able to focus on your work. But now, if young people ask me, ‘How can I be as creative as possible?’ I say that the only thing that we can do is follow our interests. What could bring you more joy than following your own interests and focusing on those interests? But you also have to learn how to trust in yourself, too. If you trust in yourself and you follow your interests and really focus intensely on those interests, they will connect you to a metaphysical place where time and space spin, and before you know it, you’re connected to a universal vocabulary, where everybody coming down the street looks so familiar to you.”
I wonder when that shift happened for Koons. I want specifics, but in his typical ethereal fashion, he simply smiles and says, “I felt it happening as I was learning to trust in myself. I would be making paintings of what I dreamt the night before, and at one point, I just woke up and felt like I accepted myself. I just don’t want to go inward anymore. I want to go outward. And that was really where things changed for me. I love the philosopher John Dewey because he tried to describe life in the most simple terms — as an organism, a singlecelled organism, being affected by its environment. And then, after it’s affected by its environment, it in return is affecting the environment. This opening of oneself is what becoming is; this is transcendence. And the more that we can trust in opening oneself up to the world, to our environment, the more we can become, the more we can transcend.”
“But specifically?” I wonder, and this time, he obliges with a concrete answer.
“This happened in art school, when I finally wanted to really open myself up to the world. I started working with ready-made objects, and these ready-made objects are a way of using acceptance as a metaphor. ‘This object is alright, and this object being alright means that everything is alright.’ Everything’s perfect in its own being. So, once you learn to accept yourself, you’re able to go outside and accept others and all objects. Images become metaphors for others.”
In that acceptance, he says, he found freedom. “I always feel free,” Koons admits. “I wake up in the morning and I’m just really grateful. I’m always exercising freedom, and I strive in life to reach a higher level of consciousness through the arts to bring all human disciplines together. I love to celebrate the freedom we have as artists and the beauty of our community; the people involved in the art world really do care about each other. They care about sharing a dialogue about what we can become individually and what the art world as a community can become.”
This is the reason, too, that he enjoys Art Basel; he will be attending this year as a lover of art and an exhibitor. “I remember coming to Art Basel in some of its earliest days [in 2003, its second year]. The most important thing is that it brings people together. That’s even more important than the artwork itself; the art is something that you can have a discourse around, and it’s wonderful. I think that the fair will see a lot of inclusiveness, which is fantastic — art from all areas of the world, all different backgrounds and more and more stimulating imagery. It’s a win-win situation.”
Because, as I’ve now learned, the most important thing for Jeff Koons is that he feels connected. It gives him a sense of purpose and of self. Whether that’s through the art community or not makes no difference. Connection is connection, after all.
He references a particularly impactful moment in time before we say goodbye, and this moment, to me, sums up Jeff Koons, and his current place in life, to a “T.” “I love the sensation of feeling connected. One time, I was invited to Stockholm to attend a Nobel Prize gathering. I was speaking with this Nobel Prize winner, having a conversation about life. And he told me that life is an illusion, an animated chemical chain reaction. I thought it was so profound. And I was like, Man, that just answered everything for me. That’s one of the reasons I like connectivity so much: Like life itself, it too is an animated chemical chain reaction.”
Or maybe it’s a metaphorical journey to the moon? Just saying.
JACKET, TURTLENECK, SWEATER: Tom Ford PANTS: Giorgio Armani SHOES: Prada SOCKS: Calvin Klein
