Kitsch goes to the Guillotine

With homage to Susan Sontag's essay, Notes on "Camp"

1. A trip to Paris is incomplete without a jaunt to Versailles. Versailles is, hands down, one of the most opulent and ostentatious palaces on the face of the planet. Little did I know that the art of Jeff Koons, the post-modernist artist oft categorized with Andy Warhol and dubbed the King of Kitsch, would be on exhibit while I was there, due in large part to a wealthy French collector who pushed to have his works displayed. Or something like that.

2. I went to see Koons' work when it was on exhibit at the MCA in Chicago, not out of interest but intrigue. He was plastered all over the CTA, so I figured why not? I did not expect to run into a porcelain figurine depicting Michael Jackson cuddling Bubbles the Chimp at Louis XIV's old pad, or see a blow up toy in the shape of a crab at Versailles, hung from a ceilings detailed with paintings of Apollo, and Diana, Goddess of the Hunt. I've seen the exhibit two times now, and I can't decide whether I love or hate it.

4. Many people considered the placement of the exhibit to be tasteless and gauche; some might even go so far as to say it represents the end of culture itself. All that was needed was a sad French mime in white gloves.

3.Jeff Koon's ex-wife was a member of the Italian Parliament and a porn star. How's that for third wave feminism?

4. As I made my way to the great hall of mirrors, where a massive metallic heart balloon (translation:a work of art, i.e. a sculpture) was festooned to a marble wall reflecting the magnificence of Louis' most narcissistic of rooms, I noticed this: be they serious looking scholars or hordes of Asian tourists, Koons work garnered more attention than the magnificent portraits or meticulously embroidered pillows of former French aristocracy.

5. I came to this conclusion: kitsch is underrated.

6. I have voluntarily engaged in kistchy activities many times over: tons of musical theatre, donning ridiculously outlandish Halloween costumes of Madonna and Marilyn Monroe complete with blond wigs and fire engine red lipstick, lip syncing to YMCA at faculty retreats,putting fruits on my head and singing 'My name's Chiquita Banana,' attending a Kylie Minogue concert, and the list goes on. But I think you get the point.


7. I don't like to be associated with kitsch because kitsch generally keeps bad company: the noveau riche, poseurs, those who lack substance, imagination and verve are all constant companions. The stylistically obtuse and superficially satisfied. Those who don't know a floral print from a potholder. I don't consider myself any of these things, yet still, deep down, I am drawn to kitsch, which makes me feel slightly vapid. Why?

8. Here is something Milan Kundera had to say about kitsch: "As soon as kitsch is recognized for the lie it is, it moves into the context of non-kitsch, thus losing its authoritarian power and becoming as touching as any other human weakness. For none among us is superman enough to escape kitsch completely. No matter how we scorn it, kitsch is an integral part of the human condition."

9. Kitsch has become an aesthetic in and of itself: it represents the anti-elitist middle class that simply can't afford not to be kitsch.

10: Kitsch is easily identifiable but hard to define. When I see it I know it, but I can't come up with a decent definition. In that case, Kitsch is anything cutesy and faux fancy. Kitsch is dressing up your kids as elves on your Christmas cards. Kitsch might even be those airbrushed glamour shots you can get at the mall. Kitsch is a cousin of camp, cheesy, and twee. If Sarah Palin were an aesthetic, kitsch would be it.

11. I'd like to think I'm above kitsch, but I'm not. If you draw a hear in the sand with your toes and put our initials in it, a part of me will cringe. Another part of me will feel warm and fuzzy inside. Sometimes I want to look at something and know exactly how I am supposed to feel. Sometimes I don't want to search for layers of meaning or think about composition and the object's relationship to its subject. Sometimes I think my boredom with taking things at face value stems from a fear of being average. We all know being complicated and multi-faceted is so in these days. Therefore we disdain those who are so literal and base as to need a symbol - a heart or a box of chocolates or a shiny rose - to say I love you.

12. How can something as reproducable as kitsch be juxtaposed againt the essence of culture, the authenticity of French aristocracy? That is the point,of course. Or perhaps nowadays, maybe there really isnt't a difference between authentic culture and authenitc kitsch anymore.