Tucked away in the trendy avenues of Manhattan’s Soho neighborhood is an emoji dreamscape (or maybe nightmare-scape) come to life.
In conjunction with designer Jeremy Scott, musician Miley Cyrus created several sculptures that were featured in Scott’s fashion show for spring/summer 2015, in a collection titled “Dirty Hippie.” According to an interview with V Magazine, Cyrus embarked on her day-glo pastime after experiencing fears of dying as a simple “pop pop dumb dumb.” Translation: Miley’s a visual artist now, y’all. In true Miley Cyrus style, the sculptures are a flotsam and jetsam of neon detritus and beads, and perhaps one single word can sum up the whole collection: crusty.
The sculptures became open for viewing to the public on Sept. 11 at V’s galleries on 11 Mercer St. Here are some of the things one can learn (or simply verify) from viewing Cyrus’s weed-hazed toil in person.
Subtlety is not Cyrus’s strong suit.
Excessive is the key descriptor when viewing the sculptures in person; Cyrus makes Lisa Frank look like Mark Rothko. The sculptures ranged from a microwave to a disposable camera to a dildo (more on that later), and everything was encrusted within an inch of it life with beads, remnants from the My Little Pony factory explosion, little plastic baby figurines, and much, much more. Unsurprisingly, Cyrus said herself that she was high during the making of these objects.
Cyrus is a fan of social commentary.
Much of the work had messages spelled out in beads. Some of Cyrus’ featured phrases: “Say yasss to drugz” and “Say no to drugz.”
It’s pretty hard to find the blunts in the art.
Cyrus, a self-proclaimed pothead, glued some of her best friends to the sculptures. Since each sculpture was a verifiable I Spy book come to life, though, it was hard to find them. However, it was very easy to spot one five-foot bong chilling in the corner.
Some of the works are terrifying.
Miley’s teddy-bear-crusted mask can really give Michael Myers a run for his money.
Beware of the phallic imagery abound.
Contrary to the popular notion that this was the summer of butts, Cyrus was much more obsessed with the front stuff. Much in the vein of Renaissance sculpture artists and their penchant for male genitalia, Cyrus’ collection contained a number of phallic references in the form of tiny penis figurines, a nod to the wonders of pineapple juice, and the much-discussed dildo. The infamous dildo, which was given to her by a fan, was bedazzled with so much stuff that it was beyond recognition in its original form, which is probably for the best, lest someone bring their grandma to the gallery.
Selfies are okay, but no touching.
“No touching,” said the lone guard sent to protect Cyrus’ earnest treasures. “Pictures are okay, but no touching.”
The gallery is open to the public until Friday, Sept. 19.