The Twin Moons of Luna Luna Rise Over the Hudson
Photo by Brian Ferry / Courtesy of Luna Luna LLC
Subtitled Forgotten Fantasy, the resurrected attraction Luna Luna arrives at the cavernous performance hub, the Shed, with a compelling narrative: The world's first art amusement park, an initial triumph ultimately lost in legal limbo, was relegated to rural Texas to rot until it was salvaged by entrepreneur Michael Goldberg and the rapper Drake through his company DreamCrew.
The brainchild of Austrian poet, pop star, and visionary André Heller, the original Luna Luna opened in 1987 in Hamburg, Germany, running for nearly three months and bringing the avant-garde to an estimate of 250,000 to 300,000 visitors.
Aerial view of Luna Luna in Moorweide park. Hamburg, Germany, 1987. Photo: © Sabina Sarnitz. Courtesy Luna Luna, LLC
Now installed at the Shed after a run in Los Angeles, the first section of Luna Luna educates visitors on the context, history, and influences from which Heller and the contributing artists drew, harking back to Coney Island’s Luna Park, which became a shorthand for that type of fair worldwide.
Taking thirteen years to come to fruition, Heller assembled an assortment of marquee art world names, resulting in an intergenerational and interdisciplinary effort across art movements, from Dada and surrealism to pop art. Contributions ranged from artists like Salvador Dalí, near the end of his life, to brash downtown New York darlings like Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat.
Luna Luna’s initial success was followed by its lost years. With a planned global tour scuppered, the amusements were packed away in forty-four shipping containers, and with ownership in dispute, they sat untouched until they were rescued in 2019—an art world time capsule. That makes the current iteration of Luna Luna a project of conservation and restoration as well as a public spectacle, which also makes it somewhat of a “look-don't-touch” proposition, as safety constraints prevent visitors from riding the swings or Keith Haring’s painted carousel: an experience at odds with archival photos of children clambering over the open-air amusements.
Kenny Scharf, painted chair swing ride. Luna Luna, Hamburg, Germany, 1987. © Kenny Scharf. Licensed by Artestar, New York. Photo: © Sabina Sarnitz. Courtesy Luna Luna, LLC
Still, there are enough pieces to experience, like Roy Lichtenstein’s Luna Luna Pavilion, a glass labyrinth with an accompanying soundtrack by Philip Glass.
The second section offers extended tactile delights, such as Poncilí Creación’s PonciliLand, where kids and adults alike can build with plush, colorful blocks. They’re also responsible for the roving puppets and atmospheric entertainers. Visitors can enter Salvador Dalí’s Dalídom pavilion, a geodesic dome with trippy, mirrored interior and ambient soundtrack.
Sonia Delaunay, entrance archway and Luna Luna sign. Luna Luna, Hamburg, Germany, 1987. Photo: © Sabina Sarnitz. Courtesy Luna Luna, LLC
Some of the salvaged pieces include Sonia Delaunay’s bright, geometric entrance archway, which welcomed visitors to the 1987 fairground. Then there’s caricaturist Manfred Deix’s grotesquely humorous painted exterior façade for Palace of the Winds, a theater which featured a troupe of performers who farted into microphones accompanied by classical music.
Visitors to Heller's Wedding Chapel can participate in a wedding ceremony, where they can marry anyone or anything they choose. Only to be admired from afar, however, are Kenny Scharf’s chair swing ride, adorned with his signature cartoon drawings, and Arik Brauer’s Carousel, which draws from Surrealist paintings and mysticism traditions.
Photo by Brian Ferry / Courtesy of Luna Luna LLC
Heller conceived his art park as a post-World War II project, wanting to emphasize joy and play in a war-torn and fascism-ravaged Europe. As detailed in the exhibition, Luna Luna is very much a distillation of the dizzying speed and expansion of the 20th century, drawing on jazz, Disneyland, sideshows, Surrealism, and Saturday morning cartoons, among others. But what does it offer at the current moment? It may seem too frivolous an enterprise, but Luna Luna’s origins weren’t apolitical. Heller purposely erected the original park at Moorweide in Hamburg, a staging ground where Jews were deported to concentration camps. With his aforementioned wedding chapel, Heller encouraged radical inclusivity with same-sex unions, as they weren’t yet legal at the time of the work’s conception. There was also Crap Chancellery, Daniel Spoerri's design for the park’s public bathrooms, which mimicked and mocked the façade of New Reich Chancellery, designed by Albert Speer to be the new Nazi Party headquarters, its entrance embellished by two swirled turds atop columns.
It makes sense to want to connect to Heller’s original intention of asserting openness and curiosity as a ward against discrimination and totalitarianism, but it is difficult to cultivate whimsy. And Luna Luna is in competition for attention with the sterile and ubiquitous Instagram pop-up experiences—at least it sets itself apart for the aesthetic rigor of its presentation and offers a slightly more homespun appeal. As Heller knew when dreaming up Luna Luna, joy can be a radical act in uncertain times. It’s a worthwhile effort, and maybe this incarnation can capture some of that magic.
Luna Luna: Forgotten Fantasy is on view at the Shed, New York, through February 23rd, 2025.
