Macabre. Bemused. Tortured. Whimsical. Alienated. Pick one… or two. Tim Burton has made a significant living forcing his demons on both Disney executives and Helena Bonham Carter.
The LACMA exhibition ending on Halloween is exhaustive yet exhilarating, which I am sure you’ve already heard. Over 700 works are displayed and critics have been, well… critical. There’s a lot. But then, there’s a lot in the man’s head. Once a thought erupts, a note soon follows. Then a sketch. Then an outline, a storyboard, a sculpture, a mini-movie… you know the rest. And it’s all here.
Suffice it to say I walked away feeling slightly diminished by my inferior productivity, yet giggling. Smirking at his mischievous eye. A sub-plot soon erupted however, once I was “caught” documenting the installation. Snapping pix against the security guards’ orders provoked reprimand. “I’m sorry. Photography is not allowed.” All I needed was one challenge and I was off. My friend wandered away in an effort to feign disassociation as I clearly was not to be stopped. The actual exhibit blurred in my frantic scheming to photograph the forbidden ephemera. A lesson more for authority than the oppressed.
Stealthily carrying on, the videos and drawings and photographs and costumes and sculptures enchanted. So, for those of you who will never visit – you’re welcome.
The genesis of his wonky characters rests in a misfit youth, yet somehow relates to a large enough mass to sell theatre tickets. Hmmm…. probably because we were all misfit youths. And let’s face it, it all looks great on a coffee mug. “Exit Through the Gift Shop.”
Bonus points if you can identify what film the props are from….