We visited the grandiose Americana at Brand Mall in Glendale, California. It's gigantic, splendid, and luxurious.
I was, I gotta say, utterly transfixed by the artificial lake and its wondrous statue. Words cannot do it justice; here's a picture:
The statue is titled, "The Spirit of American Youth Rising from the Waves." It is 18 feet tall, weighs 2500 pounds and is covered with 23 carat gold, which, I'm going to guess, made it expensive to construct and to install. It rises from the artificial lake and soars loincloth-clad above the neighboring Cheesecake Factory. It's shamelessly, courageously vulgar.
It is, in my opinion, the epitome of kitsch: crass, tasteless, crude, gaudy, flashy, pretentious, showy. Banal. I think the contemporary expression is "over the top." No Stendhal syndrome for me.
I must say that it doesn't engage the intellect or require much in the way of interpretation. It might even be called fake art expressing a fake emotion. Nevertheless, it's lovable in a kind of melodramatic way. I'm glad to have encountered it, even though it doesn't speak well for American or Californian sensibilities. Perhaps it embodies tasteless nouveau-riche ambition. Bottom line: it's astounding.
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