Feature image: Clown Torture via Stedelijk Museum © 2024 Bruce Nauman / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York
Bruce Nauman’s “Clown Torture” (1987)
Experts believe that one in ten adults suffers from coulrophobia—the fear of clowns. With their overwhelming presence in recent horror films, like “It,” “Joker,” and “Terrifier,” it’s no surprise many are deeply frightened of these colorful miming performers.
But what happens when the clown is the one who’s afraid? In his controversial 1987 video work Clown Torture, Bruce Nauman explores this idea and feelings of humiliation, failure, confusion, and boredom.
Who is Bruce Nauman?
Bruce Nauman was born in Fort Wayne, Indiana, on December 6th, 1941. He first attended the University of Wisconsin, Madison, graduating with a BFA in 1964. He then went on to study art at the University of California, Davis, graduating with an MFA in 1966.
As an artist, Nauman works in various mediums and practices, including sculpture, photography, neon, video, drawing, printmaking, and performance. His work from the 1980s onward often features “disturbing psychological and physical themes.” Some of Nauman’s notable works include The True Artist Helps the World by Revealing Mystic Truths (1967), Pay Attention (1973), and Animal Pyramid (1989).
In 2004, Nauman was named one of Time’s 100 most influential people.
Nauman is considered part of the “process art” movement—one that values the process of creating a work of art over the final product that is shown to the world. The movement emphasizes the steps taken when creating art (particularly works made from non-traditional materials), including gathering, sorting, collating, associating, and patterning, as well as the intentions behind these actions.
“If I was an artist and I was in the studio, then whatever I was doing in the studio must be art,” Nauman has stated about his conflicted feelings on how to go about pursuing his art after college. “At this point, art became more of an activity and less of a product.”
Nauman, 82, currently resides in New Mexico.
Clown Torture (1987)
Clown Torture is unique in its presentation as a video work. The work consists of “two rectangular pedestals, each supporting two pairs of stacked color monitors; two large color-video projections on two facing walls; and sound from all six video displays,” according to the Art Insitute of Chicago.
The monitors display four short narrative videos, each one following the misadventures of a classic-looking party clown (played by actor Walter Stevens) with dramatic face paint, long red hair, and comically oversized shoes: “In ‘No, No, No, No (Walter),’ the clown incessantly screams the word no while jumping, kicking, or lying down; in ‘Clown with Goldfish,’ the clown struggles to balance a fish bowl on the ceiling with the handle of a broom; in ‘Clown with Water Bucket,’ the clown repeatedly opens a door booby-trapped with a bucket of water that falls on his head; and finally, in ‘Pete and Repeat,’ the clown succumbs to the terror of a seemingly inescapable nursery rhyme.”
The experience of viewing Clown Torture is an overstimulating, anxiety-inducing one.
On view in the Art Institute of Chicago’s Modern Wing, Clown Torture is shown in a closed-off dark room—“Please Enter,” reads the door, a phrase that’s only slightly reassuring to unsuspecting tourists, who often come dashing out moments later looking bewildered.
The overwhelming noise of the four narratives playing simultaneously makes it hard to stand for more than a few minutes. The audio from “No, No, No, No (Walter)” is the most immediately aggravating, and as you attempt to bear witness to the clown’s failures featured in the other narratives, the clown’s screams of “no” are seemingly meant to make the viewer want to escape the dark room—and by extension, the clown’s suffering—as fast as possible.
Each video on its own may be a silly, funny, representation of the everyday hijinks a quirky clown might encounter—but when played together on a loop, the endless failures of our clown character quickly become humiliating, horrific, and depressing. As the clown is infinitely tortured by experiencing these embarrassing situations over and over, so too is the viewer. The viewer, however, has the luxury of being able to remove themselves from the dark room. This dynamic between art and viewer is precisely why Clown Torture has remained so influential over the almost 40 years since its debut.
As with many works of modern art, though, some believe that Nauman’s Clown Torture lacks artistic merit due to its video medium, its overstimulating nature, and its “immature” focus on a childish character like a clown.
On July 10, 2024, the Art Institute announced that Clown Torture would be returning to the museum for viewing. Taking one look at the comments of the Art Institute’s Instagram post detailing the work’s return, it becomes immediately clear how divided audiences are on Nauman’s piece.
“And I’m supposed to renew my membership? This isn’t art. Get serious,” one user wrote. “I’m still traumatized from the last time it was here,” wrote another.
Conversely, many love Clown Torture for its ability to force the viewer to sit with their discomfort while bearing witness to its main character’s failures, understanding that purpose of the work is much more complex than to simply shock and disturb.
Despite its detractors, Clown Torture is a work that accomplishes what it sets out to achieve: making the viewer feel the same level of discomfort the clown character feels in each of his misadventures. Modern art will always generate thought-provoking discussions on artistic merit, but its ability to do so is a testament to why it is valuable.
©ArtRKL™️ LLC 2021-2024. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed. ArtRKL™️ and its underscore design indicate trademarks of ArtRKL™️ LLC and its subsidiaries.
