Sometimes, an idea is so good that everyone around can’t help but pitch in. Take the story of stone soup, a folktale about a traveler who convinces an entire village to create a feast out of nothing but a stone and a pot of water. It begins with skepticism, but with a little charm and some shared curiosity, the villagers contribute their carrots, onions, and spices. What starts as a trick becomes a celebration, a collaborative act of creation.
That’s the story of Luna Luna—an extraordinary creation unlike anything the world had seen. This traveling amusement park wasn’t crafted by engineers or showmen but by some of the most celebrated artists of the 20th century. Picture rides and attractions crafted by the likes of Jean-Michel Basquiat, Keith Haring, Salvador Dalí, Roy Lichtenstein, and David Hockney. It was part art exhibition, part carnival, and entirely unlike anything the world had seen.
When André Heller, the Austrian artist and dreamer behind Luna Luna, set out to recruit these legendary names, his pitch was disarmingly simple:
So how did I convince them? It was so simple. I can hardly believe it.
I asked everyone the same questions:
Have you ever been a child? Yes.
As a child, did you visit an amusement park? Yes.
Did you like it? Yes.
André Heller on convincing artists to participate in Luna Luna.
It’s hard to argue with that logic. Heller’s idea tapped into something universal: the joy of childhood wonder, the pure thrill of a spinning carousel or a hall of mirrors. His vision didn’t aim to separate “high art” from everyday fun—it embraced both. It was a moonlit dance between sophistication and silliness, and somehow, it worked. For a moment.
A Bright Star, Briefly Burning
Luna Luna opened in Hamburg, Germany, in 1987 as a dazzling art park and amusement experience. For three magical months, it captured the imaginations of nearly 300,000 visitors. It was a place where visitors could ride Keith Haring’s vibrant carousel, marvel at Jean-Michel Basquiat’s urban-inspired designs, or explore surrealist installations that felt plucked straight from Dalí’s fever dreams. Heller himself contributed a wedding chapel—one of Luna Luna’s most subversive attractions.
The wedding chapel was ahead of its time, allowing anyone to marry anyone—or anything. Men could marry men. Women could marry women. A photographer could marry their camera, or a cyclist could marry their bike. In 1987, same-sex marriage was illegal in Germany, making this both a joyful statement and an act of quiet rebellion.
There were plans to turn it into a traveling exhibition. But like many ambitious dreams, Luna Luna couldn’t last. The costs of maintaining and transporting such a large-scale project were staggering. Within a year, the park’s journey came to a halt, its attractions packed into shipping containers and stored away like forgotten treasure. It seemed destined to become a beautiful footnote in the history of art.
The Revival: Why Not?
Fast-forward 35 years, and Luna Luna has been reborn. Forgotten in 44 shipping containers, the park was revived by Michael Goldberg and DreamCrew, co-founded by Drake, who took the bold gamble of purchasing it sight unseen. With André Heller’s blessing and a team of experts, the artworks emerged from decades of darkness. By 2023, Luna Luna returned to inspire a new generation with its magical blend of art and play.
I saw it at The Shed in Hudson Yards. Seeing a recreation of a great amusement park where you can only experience a small portion of the rides. Wherever it travels, the revival raises the question: Why would someone do this? But the better question is: Why not?
Luna Luna is full of “why not” moments. Why not create a Ferris wheel designed by an artist? Why not let fine art escape the confines of the gallery and exist alongside popcorn stands and carnival music? Part of the answer lies in the timeline of Luna Luna presented at the exhibit that includes homages to art movements like Pop Art, Surrealism and Dadaism.
All of these art movements provide an interaction between the viewer and the artists. Art was no longer something that you visit in a museum. Take Dadaism, the early 20th-century art movement that rejected logic and convention. Marcel Duchamp’s infamous Fountain, a urinal reimagined as art, serves as a nod to this ethos. Luna Luna channels that same spirit of playful defiance, daring us to rethink what art can be.
A Unique Art Form
The answer to the question “What is this?” might be found at the beginning of the Luna Luna timeline featured in the exhibit. This timeline begins not with Lichtenstein or Haring, but with Joseph Pujol, a French entertainer from the late 19th century. Known as Le Pétomane—“The Fartomaniac”—Pujol performed at the Moulin Rouge, using farting onstage to create sounds from musical notes to animal sounds.
Pujol was an entertainer who turned something profane—and perhaps a little ridiculous—into an art form. He made people laugh, and in doing so, he created art.
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