{"id":23153,"date":"2011-11-09T08:00:52","date_gmt":"2011-11-09T13:00:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=23153"},"modified":"2011-11-09T10:41:05","modified_gmt":"2011-11-09T15:41:05","slug":"the-varieties-of-%e2%80%98experience%e2%80%99","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/11\/09\/the-varieties-of-%e2%80%98experience%e2%80%99\/","title":{"rendered":"The Varieties of \u201cExperience\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_23196\" style=\"width: 610px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/carousel.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-23196\" class=\"size-full wp-image-23196\" title=\"&quot;Experience&quot;\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/carousel.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"600\" height=\"473\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/carousel.jpg 600w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/carousel-300x236.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-23196\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Mirror Carousel, 2005. Installation view, &quot;Experience,&quot; New Museum. Photo \u00a9 Benoit Pailley.<\/p><\/div>\n<p>At this time of year, the Bowery seems colder and brighter than other streets nearby, maybe because it\u2019s several lanes wide and flanked by buildings no more than four or five stories tall. To me, it\u2019s also a resonant place, and has been since I moved to New York. Along the Bowery, there are traces of a cultural history I tell myself I\u2019m a part of (artists and musicians making prescient, eerie, underground things) as well as a cultural history that, let\u2019s be honest, I\u2019m <em>actually<\/em> a part of (Chinese immigrants starting businesses to meet market demand). Mark Rothko, Eva Hesse, and William S. Burroughs lived or worked along the Bowery. CBGB\u2019s was there. It has also been the site of lighting outlets and restaurant-supply stores with exactly the sort of aspirational, front-of-the-phonebook names that my parents, with their limited English, would choose: AA International Trading Inc. A-1 Restaurant Equipment. A-Plus Restaurant Equipment.<\/p>\n<p>Maybe it\u2019s because the rest of the Bowery seems so familiar that I found <a href=\"http:\/\/www.newmuseum.org\/exhibitions\/449\">\u201cExperience,\u201d Carsten H\u00f6ller\u2019s solo show at the New Museum<\/a>, so disorienting. Of course, as the Belgian-born artist recently told a colleague at Artforum.com, \u201cMy entire show is set up to make you [go] mad.\u201d <!--more-->Originally trained as an expert in aphids, the forty-nine-year-old H\u00f6ller only began making art in the 1980s, and soon became known for his huge, interactive pieces: giant, twisting, multi-story slides; or hotel rooms, installed within museums, that can be rented from night to night. His latest show is a retrospective of sorts, and features, among other work, a three-story slide, a giant, mirrored carousel, and a sensory deprivation tank.<\/p>\n<p>A sense of delirium had already begun to set in as I stood among the bottleneck of visitors in the lobby, where we were stopped and presented with waivers to sign. After acknowledging that I didn\u2019t have \u201callergies to Epsom salts,\u201dor \u201cphotosensitive epilepsy,\u201d or \u201cmotion sickness, acrophobia (fear of heights), vertigo (dizziness), or claustrophobia (fear of confined spaces),\u201d I made my way to the fourth floor, where the rabbit-hole-like entrance to H\u00f6ller\u2019s slide awaited.<\/p>\n<p>The chute is 102 feet long, and the ride lasts approximately four seconds. Which meant that, on it, my speed was about 17 miles per hour, though it all seemed much, much faster. The slide corkscrewed in a clockwise direction but then suddenly veered my body counterclockwise\u2014milliseconds after a wall of flashing fluorescent bulbs filled my field of vision, and milliseconds before I was deposited in the middle of the second floor, right by the feet of a museum guard, who raised his eyebrows.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cElegant,\u201d he said, of my descent.<\/p>\n<p>There are tamer pieces, like the <em>Pill Clock<\/em>:<em> <\/em>Every few seconds, a gelatin capsule filled with cream-yellow powder drops from a small hole in the ceiling. A water cooler and a stack of cups have been set up nearby, so that people can choose to swallow the pellets, which are placebos (or so promises an attendant guard). On the second floor is a row of small chambers, each containing various machines and flasks that allow visitors to perform experiments on themselves. One of these rooms contains a vial of phenylethylamine, purportedly the neurotransmitter that floods the brain when people fall madly in love. A sign on the wall urges those who are adversely affected by strong odors to refrain from uncorking the container and inhaling. (I took a whiff and couldn\u2019t smell anything. This may be related to why I am single.)<\/p>\n<p>H\u00f6ller\u2019s work is often mentioned under the rubric of \u201crelational aesthetics,\u201d that polarizing term coined by critic Nicholas Bourriaud to describe art based on social interactions between audience members. But the most striking experiences in H\u00f6ller\u2019s \u201cExperience\u201d are the lonely ones\u2014whether plummeting down a slide, or lying in a structure shaped like an MRI<strong>, <\/strong>with aquarium of fish around your head. One of the show\u2019s few social hubs is the sensory deprivation tank: a cream-colored hut on stilts that contains a shallow pool of body-temperature water, in which visitors who have stripped naked (or who have come prepared with bathing gear) can float, uncomfortably close to one another.<\/p>\n<p>As of last week, the pool also became a solitary experience. An irked Department of Health has notified the New Museum that it would need a permit before continuing to allow naked strangers to submerge themselves in shared pools of water. I was one of the lucky few, as some might see it, who happened to make it there before the change in policy\u2014luckier still because I had shown up ready with a swimsuit. The water turned out to be colder than I\u2019d expected, the current stronger.<\/p>\n<p>But in the end, it was the women\u2019s restroom\u2014where else?\u2014that became the site of my conversations with strangers.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh whoa did you go in the tank?\u201d a girl asked me. \u201cIs it worth doing?\u201d She and her friend watched me shake Epsom salt from my belongings. I tried to describe the experience and resorted to terms like \u201cweird,\u201d \u201ccold,\u201d and \u201cgross.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut you guys should totally totally try it,\u201d I added.<\/p>\n<p>Was it worth doing? I still don\u2019t know. They looked awfully dry and comfortable. Whereas I left the museum with wet hair, and the Bowery seemed even colder than before.<\/p>\n<p><em>\u201c<a href=\"http:\/\/www.newmuseum.org\/exhibitions\/449\">Experience<\/a>\u201d will be on view until January 15 at the New Museum in New York.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Dawn Chan is a writer living in New York and associate editor at Artforum.com.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>At this time of year, the Bowery seems colder and brighter than other streets nearby, maybe because it\u2019s several lanes wide and flanked by buildings no more than four or five stories tall. To me, it\u2019s also a resonant place, and has been since I moved to New York. Along the Bowery, there are traces [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":77,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[419],"tags":[4812,4814,4838,4818,4813,2527,4749,2508,4817,4839,4815,4816,4424],"class_list":["post-23153","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-arts-culture","tag-bowery","tag-carsten-holler","tag-cbgb","tag-epsom-salt","tag-eva-hesse","tag-experience","tag-mark-rothko","tag-new-museum","tag-nicholas-bourriaud","tag-phenylethylamine","tag-pill-clock","tag-relational-aesthetics","tag-william-s-burroughs"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.4 (Yoast SEO v25.4) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>The Varieties of \u201cExperience\u201d by Dawn Chan<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"November 9, 2011 \u2013 At this time of year, the Bowery seems colder and brighter than other streets nearby, maybe because it\u2019s several lanes wide and flanked by buildings no\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/11\/09\/the-varieties-of-\u2018experience\u2019\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The Varieties of \u201cExperience\u201d by Dawn Chan\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"November 9, 2011 \u2013 At this time of year, the Bowery seems colder and brighter than other streets nearby, maybe because it\u2019s several lanes wide and flanked by buildings no\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/11\/09\/the-varieties-of-\u2018experience\u2019\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"The Paris Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:publisher\" content=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2011-11-09T13:00:52+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2011-11-09T15:41:05+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/carousel.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"600\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"473\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Dawn Chan\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:creator\" content=\"@parisreview\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:site\" content=\"@parisreview\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Dawn Chan\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"5 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/11\/09\/the-varieties-of-%e2%80%98experience%e2%80%99\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/11\/09\/the-varieties-of-%e2%80%98experience%e2%80%99\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"Dawn Chan\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/fd7d05235f7c9dd46fe56a41bfd6bd8d\"},\"headline\":\"The Varieties of \u201cExperience\u201d\",\"datePublished\":\"2011-11-09T13:00:52+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2011-11-09T15:41:05+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/11\/09\/the-varieties-of-%e2%80%98experience%e2%80%99\/\"},\"wordCount\":952,\"commentCount\":0,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/11\/09\/the-varieties-of-%e2%80%98experience%e2%80%99\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/carousel.jpg\",\"keywords\":[\"Bowery\",\"Carsten H\u00f6ller\",\"CBGB\",\"Epsom salt\",\"Eva Hesse\",\"experience\",\"Mark Rothko\",\"New Museum\",\"Nicholas Bourriaud\",\"phenylethylamine\",\"Pill Clock\",\"relational aesthetics\",\"William S. 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