LUNA LUNA The Shed New York

As the chair swing ride spins faster and faster while Daniel Wohl’s theatrical and whimsical carnival-themed composition "Carousel" plays in the background and halo-shaped light installations hang in the center of the space as well as light on the side walls that emits heat, flickering rhythmically with sudden bursts like digital fireworks, Kenny Scharf’s graffiti-like paintings on the central cylinder of the swing ride and monstrous multi-eye cartoon figures standing on top of the swing, rotate, flashing before our eyes, prompting us to watch closely, though not enough to fully grasp the essence. Next to the swing ride stands Jean-Michel Basquiat’s small, muted cream-white Ferris wheel, featuring seven passenger cabins revolving with lights lining the rims. Basquiat’s signature paintings and words cover the rims and circular frame of the Ferris wheel. LUNA LUNA staff, dressed in quirky monster-like costumes, playfully surprise visitors by brushing their heads or 'kissing' their faces with stuffed butterflies attached to rods.

This ecstatic and festive scene at the Shed recreates a small part of the fantasyland from the 1987 LUNA LUNA amusement park project, originally conceptualized by curator and artist Andre Heller, who invited over 30 artists, including David Hockney, Keith Haring, Salvador Dalí, and Roy Lichtenstein to design the games, rides, and attractions.

What made LUNA LUNA great then was never about being the fantasy of everyone’s childhood or reigniting the imagination or the conflux of avant-garde and street art with amusement rides–it was the fact that art stepped down from the pedestal of being worshiped in a constrained space and instead rushed into and embraced its most rudimentary yet powerful forms as accessible, entertaining objects. Luna Luna elevated the amusement park, a space designed for joy, and decorated it with aesthetically rich, culturally meaningful artistic elements. It was about integrating that joy with depth and substance in a poetic way. The way individuals interact with art was transformed as the artists’ visions became the lens through which viewers engaged with the rides, encouraging them to form personal narratives and memories within the space. Luna Luna tapped into the fluidity of memory, as Elizabeth Loftus suggests, where the environments we are immersed in and move through, whether cultural ,socio-economical or even a passing moment, leave traces that shape who we are. The memories created in this space weren’t just fleeting. They were deep and molded by the direct exposure to and interaction with the legacy and remnants of the soul and emotions the great, talented artists sought to embody in the rides and space, fostering connections between people and art, as well as a sense of interconnectedness among people in general. Although I didn’t experience the original Luna Luna, I imagine it as a space where art wasn’t removed from experience but was part of life’s simplest pleasures. It healed by making art feel approachable and alive, breaking down its intimidating barriers; It nurtured by creating a shared joy and wonder, connecting people of all ages, and communicated in ways that felt personal, turning a ride or a game into something memorable and meaningful, something that stayed with one long after you left.

At The Shed in New York, Luna Luna admittedly captures the fantastical scenes of the 1987 amusement park, but it strays far from its original spirit, coming off as more of a commercial art project. Viewers aren’t allowed to ride anything, only to observe from a distance, a restriction that drains the experience of the playful, participatory charm. Seeing the rides operating is just a single sensory experience, while riding them elevates the experience into a multisensory journey that triggers more emotions and feelings, making it far more memorable and impactful to the viewers. Watching the swing ride slow down, the music fading into silence, I felt a mix of longing and disappointment, which comes not from what it is, but from the lingering sense of what it could have been, an unfulfilled expectation. A girl came up to me and said, “You know what makes me feel most sad? There is still dust on the seats.”