Updated 2/23/08
Literally. It does. Walking into Deitch Projects, just off the tourist-induced ruckus that Soho has become, it smells like a banana milkshake-scented steam room. It’s suffocating. But that should be no surprise when 7,200 bananas flank the longest wall of a climate-controlled gallery in the middle of winter — nor the fact should be ignored that a steam room, again, literally, was active in one of the gallery rooms. I can outlive the smell, as the show does not take too long to view but, even a week after having seen the show, I can’t shake the thought of those 7,200 uneaten bananas. Regardless of their spelled maxim: Self-confidence produces fine results.
Original state of bananas.
Sagging bananas after two weeks on the wall.
I don’t consider myself a model citizen: I throw away small leftovers on my plate from my home-cooked dinner, I leave the lights on inadvertently for hours at a time, our computers at home have not been shutdown since we bought them, and in the summer I don’t mind cranking my A/C to 60-degrees Fahrenheit for 24 hours straight to cool my sweaty self. But one thing I do know: I do not waste 7,200 bananas. And I was extremely surprised that Sagmeister would. He has generally displayed a strong sense of social responsibility and consciousness — whether it’s through his work for the Move our Money campaign, or as he expressed in his diary chronicling his year without clients, “[July 20, 2000] Went to the homeless yesterday. I do it once a week, just distributing soup, milk, bagel and oranges through the Coalition to the homeless. We serve about 250 customers at 8 stops each night […]” — as well as being generous with his time, friendly with strangers and close friends, and thoughtful. I was very taken aback with his decision. And apart from the bananas on the wall, still more were sent as invitations
Banana invitation with carved addressee. [Photo from maayanpearl’s Flickr account]
I’m not one to decide what’s the best use of 7,200 bananas, but I’m certain there are better uses for them than hanging on a wall. My dismay is even more so as Sagmeister is someone that doesn’t lack cleverness, wit or imagination — as evidenced in the other 19 Things Sagmeister Has Learned In His Life So Far. Why bananas? Why not recycle something? Diapers, buttons, scrap metal from the Gowanus giant dumpster, Metrocards, light bulbs… ANYTHING. I would bet my mortgage that any other material he would have chosen for such an ambitious part of the exhibit would have been amazing.
There are certain very general facts of modern life, within which any constructive activity must be seen as contributory. […] These facts include a global view of the human situation, which can hardly exclude the decimation of the rain forests any more than the appalling disparity of living standards, and life expectation, in the different parts of the world […]. Yet if human solidarity and humane imagining mean anything at all, it is upon such awareness that every act of construction, however small, must in some sense draw, seek nourishment, become predicated — or withdraw into triviality and the blandishment of excess. — Norman Potter, What is a Designer?
I’m typically not a quoter, but I was skimming through Norman Potter’s assertive book the night after seeing Sagmeister’s show, and the above passage ringed timely. The excess of the bananas for the sake of showmanship does not feel right. What kind of responsibility is someone in the position of Sagmeister, well, responsible for? As more and more designers and non-designers cast their eyes on his work on a global scale while critics lob admiration — “the Johnny Depp of the design world” as Paola Antonelli recently said in Alice Rawsthorne’s review of the International Herald Tribune — it seems to me that banana antics like this one are not on par with today’s global consciousness that the world is not at its prime — just imagine the carbon footprint of getting those bananas to Soho.
Anyway. It’s more than 650 words, and so far no review of the show itself. It’s vintage Sagmeister. What else would you expect? It’s clever, funny, engaging and it has giant inflatable monkeys in a tiny space. It’s great. The “interactive wall” of giant notepads is ingenious and generates a vivid texture. I missed the shenanigans of the celebrity steam room, but it seems like it was a good time. And the book? Same. But I could not help the uneasiness of those uselessly ripening bananas eclipse everything else and feel a strong detachment and ambivalence from the show.
I hope this post does not encourage or open the door to vile comments towards Sagmeister — like it happened in the Creative Review blog. I have written this having deep admiration for Sagmeister’s work and appreciation for what he does for the design community, as well as gracious for the many times he has replied to my many queries. Please comment cordially and thoughtfully.
Stefan Sagmeister’s show at the gallery has been on view for more than three weeks, since January 31 and closes tomorrow, Saturday February 23.
Update 2/23/08: The biggest peril of blogging is the urge to post something right away. In my case I had two hours free on Friday morning — at the end of a non-stop work week — and the show was closing the day after (today), so I felt like I just had to post it. Even if in the back on my head I knew I should have written to Stefan before the condemnation. Some here might enjoy the foot-in-mouth scenario after reading Stefan’s response to me this morning, which he agreed for me to post and decided to stay out of the discussion himself, for various understandable reasons. So here is what he had to say. Does it make up for the use of bananas? Your call. Once again. Do I wish I would have asked before posting? Yes. Do I take anything back? Sort of. It’s still been an interesting discussion and I really appreciate everyone’s good manners.
Because of the wonderful willingness of so many New York designers to write into our fogged up windows at Deitch (considering they all gave up 3 hours of their time I wanted to be there when they started) I spent quite a bit of time in the gallery and had a chance to observe many visitors. I had the impression that lots and lots of people were delighted by the banana wall, - during the 4 week run of the show hundreds and hundreds came through. Because so many visitors clearly enjoyed a banana with their eyes and with their nose, I was so surprised to learn you hated the smell. I myself absolutely loved it.
Why did I do this?
I wanted a formal device, that would allow the content of the sentence (“self-confidence produces fine results”) to appear and disappear, just like my own self-confidence comes and goes.
As a medium I chose bananas because their ripening process allows for this appearance/disappearence to happen, because they are an absolutely beautiful fruit, because they smell sweet and luscious as they turn brown, because they carry significant visual baggage (Andy Warhol’s banana cover for the Velvet Underground ever so slightly connected to our work for Lou Reed - who came by and loved the bananas by the way), because they fit neatly with our inflatable white monkeys, because glued to a wall bananas form a pattern reminiscent of a knitted sweater working tightly with our needle stitch typography.
Are these reasons good enough to “waste” almost $ 2000.00 dollars worth of bananas? I could have created the same size wall utilizing custom wallpaper, designed a vector graphic in illustrator, paid $ 8000.00 for printing it out and likely would have avoided upsetting anybody. I think it would have been weaker.
The bananas will come down on Sunday. If anybody from the blog wants to see them in real life, Saturday from 12:00 - 6:00 is the last chance. We’ll throw the brown bananas out. I donated double the cost of the bananas to the coalition for the homeless in New York (before I read this blog).
— Stefan Sagmeister
Armin hates bananas.
On Feb.22.2008 at 10:40 AM