For some reason, today I couldn’t stop thinking about Lisa Frank. As a kid, I had real feelings of joy and wonder when confronted with the rainbow intensity of her notebooks and locker accessories. Real Joy! Why do small staring animals swathed in plum-magenta ombre umbras make me feel happy? That is so weird!
Lisa Frank is a maximalist. Which is what I’m calling the opposite of a minimalist. Probably there is some fancy art word that means maximalism. But you know what I mean.
So I got to thinking that sometimes, overwhelming the senses with maximalism can evoke a sense of wonder, which is one of the happiest feelings of all, and that might explain the seizing chemical effect Lisa Frank has on my brain.
All of the maximalist images below fill me with wonder! Some in a good way, some in a bad way. But the great thing about approaching the world with wonder as opposed to say, judgement – is that even when something is wonderfully appalling or offensive you get to learn from it.
The girl in the back probably thought an all-over purple sequin tube-top with hot-shorts and fishnets was maximalist. Clearly she was mistaken.
Art cars: loved by maximalists
Graffitti walls: collective maximalism
Besides the wonder of having so much to look at, I think that maximalism impresses me with the diligence and dedication it takes to encrust a car with a gazillion tiny mirrors for example, or sew a gazillion sequins onto a dress or hoist eight life-size reindeer onto your roof, or whatever.
Before I die, I want to encrust something with a lot of smaller somethings. I want to make something that assaults the viewer with gaudiness, something that offers a new detail every time you look at it. Probably it will involve small plastic sea creatures and model cars and shoes.