Expect the Eccentric at Electric Ladyland

Electric Ladyland: A Different State of Mind

Thomissa Comellas

            The eccentric Nick Paladino established ‘Electric Ladyland’ in 1984.  Since then the museum has changed very little and remains a curious establishment that looks much like its neighboring houses along the idyllic residential Rozengracht in the heart of the Jordaan. The fluorescent art museum neither boasts of an unusual interior nor attempts to stand out from its brick residential surroundings.  A casual observer may miss the art museum entirely - its only advertisement a tiny multicolored sign hung on the dark green door.  The museum’s front displays nothing bizarrely electric or lady-like, but this changes abruptly when a visitor crosses the threshold into the converted house.  The contrast between the calm exterior residential scene and the aggressive inner assembly cannot be overstated.  Gone are the natural colors, faded brick and grey concrete; in their place are neon oranges and yellows.  Abstract art forms with their unpredictable curves replace the manmade street forms with their controlled patterns.  Gaudy and bright, Electric Ladyland’s contents usher the eye from point to point across the crowded space.  Entering the museum is entering another world, complete with alien buildings: towering stacks of paintings on either side of the entry emphasize the abrupt change from sunny outdoors to black lit interior. 

The combination curator/owner/landlord/tour guide is hidden behind asymmetric glowing constructions throughout the small room until the visitor walks several feet into the gallery.  The immediate exhibits create a tunnel sensation wherein the visitor’s feet follow a prescribed path while their eyes are encouraged to wander.  Patterns and colors race along on either side, everything bright and distracting. 

In this visit the curator appeared suddenly over the exhibits, a pleasant human presence amidst wholly abstract surroundings.  Paladino’s hair was almost indistinguishable from his long beard, and it was unclear which was longer: both hung well below the Brooklyn native’s shoulders.  Expressive eyebrows lent his mumbled explanations more emotion, and despite his unkempt appearance it was soon clear that he was kind if not especially gregarious.  This was comforting for a girl glowing unexpectedly in a white dress under black light alone in a small museum.

When nudged for information Paladino happily explained the eccentric art cluttering the room from floor to ceiling, beginning with a rock display under a powerful black light.  The entire room glowed under a black light but the display, Paladino explained, had a black light strong enough to “sun” burn a person within hours.  Inside the display were rocks from all over the world, collected during his travels to India, Canada, China and Tibet among other compelling locations.  His favorites, however, were glowing green rocks collected during his first cave dives in New Jersey.  The juxtaposition of the outlandish locations with the familiar was intriguing, as was his method of discovery.  He hunts with handheld black lights because the rocks appear bland under normal lighting.  Indeed, under the black light the rocks appeared spray-painted or splattered with glowing paint, some speckled, others streaked, all extraordinarily bright colored.  However, without the black light they resembled common gravel, stones to be stepped over.

The other exhibits ranged from rocks to Hindu sculptures to outlandish art pieces assembled by him, his friends and other fluorescence aficionados.  The once-living room of the house was full to the brim with knickknacks large and small, all of them glowing under the black light.  But this was only the opening act.  The actual ‘museum’ was downstairs in the basement.  Visitors could be entertained for hours by Paladino’s happy explanations of every exhibit upstairs, each accompanied by a satisfied chuckle, but the ‘participatory art’ in the lower room was the museum’s true focus.

A five euro bill, which Paladino illuminated under the black light so I could see the counterfeit deterrents, granted me the slippers required to view the downstairs display.  After confirming that I was not wearing sunblock - which can damage the fluorescent paint and take hours to clean off - Paladino led me downstairs. 

A typical narrow, steep Dutch staircase takes visitors to the one-room museum.  Upon arrival visitors find yet another rock display glowing underneath yet another black light but one quickly notices the room’s main attraction: a psychedelic floor-to-ceiling cave-shaped art display.  The sprayed foam solidified into cave-like structures is the reason for the slippers: the cavern floor has a special coating that makes it shine but is easily damaged by oils.  Everything else in the display is meant to be touched. Paladino encourages visitors to inspect from all angles and examine the intricate details, from inch-sized caves containing additional Hindu statues to stalagmites creeping from the floor to a volcano representation behind glass. 

A cave about three feet long and two feet tall holds rocks and statues and is the focus of the display.  The cave is equipped with a set of controls that allow the visitor to participate in the art rather than just view it.  One switch controls the black light; another turns on an ominous growling soundtrack; another plays a scratchy Led Zeppelin mix.  There are more than ten switches that light different parts of the cave, all illuminating various rocks and artifacts. 

Paladino occupied himself behind another display while I took advantage of the participatory art, feeling like a kid in a candy store.  Another cubby contained a set of mirrors at which one could kneel and see their image repeated infinitely in three directions behind a glowing orange octopus-like structure.  Paladino explained that the mirrors recreate a typical Hindu alter at which one would kneel before a form similar to the one in the center of the mirrors.  Even though I felt that the display seemed reminiscent of childhood imagination and play, Paladino asserted that he never intended it for children, and that his display, although touchable, is too fragile for careless hands.  It is meant for anyone willing to “think outside the box” and experience the exhibit according to his specifications, rather than according to expected museum norms.  He argued that by crawling around without shoes one is able to appreciate the art in an entirely different way: from the ground up, surrounded by colors and bizarre objects.

The act of participating in art left a bit to be desired given that it involved little more than flipping switches but the overall experience was more intriguing: an unusual art collection could be appreciated in a manner appropriate to its genre as expected by its curator.  Paladino wanted everyone to witness the museum’s full effect and this was achieved by the museum rules.  Paladino contended that people change when they take off their shoes, entering a different state of mind that is better for appreciating this unusual art.  He maintained that they are freed from societal conventions much like his art is freed from traditional artistic practices.  Electric Ladyland is less a museum and more an experience, one that invites visitors to explore creativity in an entirely new, brightly colored way, to escape the ordinary streets and enter Paladino’s glowing world.