Portland, OR -- I spent four hours exploring a city today. First, I hung out with some strippers. Then, I checked out a few automats. You know—the old restaurants with walls of slots that dispense food? You put in a coin and you get a slice of lemon meringue pie? Next, I turned a couple of corners and mingled with a bunch of murderers. And, after that, I took in a bit of art. When I was all done, I opened the door of the city and walked outside into the sunlight.

The wha huh? Relax. I am, of course, talking about Powell’s City of Books in Portland, Oregon. Four floors high, one city block wide, 1,000,000 books.

Open 365 days a years, Powell’s claims to have hosted three weddings and two funerals. Weddings? Funerals? Hell, I bet children have been conceived there (Erotica section) and born there (New Arrivals). I didn’t skitter over any rice, stumble over any corpses, or interrupt canoodlers. But, it could happen. The City is huge.

Visitors glide between eight immense color-coded rooms—pearl, red, purple, rose, orange, gold, green, and blue. Books flock into these rooms based on their subjects. For example, I met up with my strippers in the Pearl Room on the top floor, where I spent an enjoyable interlude dallying with the burlesque section. In the words of Gypsy Rose Lee, “Anything worth doing well is worth doing slowly.” No worries. No one will ever tap you on the shoulder here and say, “What do you think this is, a library?” They expect—no, they encourage—browsing.

And, browse I did. I looked at a photo book of automats until the color photos of egg salad sandwiches made my stomach grumble. At that point, I threaded my way back down through the Powell’s Rainbow. Through the Red Room. Down past the Purple Room. Through the Blue Room. Into the Gold Room, where I hung out and read some mysteries.

Or, at least I think that’s the rainbow I followed to get to the Gold. Not to worry. You don’t have to count on my directions. Powell’s has a very cool, free map of the store. They also have lots of signage, tons of helpful staff, and computers to look stuff up on.

After I filled up on Dashiell Hammett et al., I had an option to scoot through to Powell’s coffee shop and refuel. Instead, I refreshed myself with an unusual art exhibit on the top floor of the store. The Velcro Show by Cyrus Smith. The thing that I liked the best about the show were the comments in the Visitor Book. Here’s a sampling:

• “Total crap! Back to the bong, man!”
• “Things can get pretty sticky around here!” 
• STUPIEST [sic] THING I’VE EVER SEEN.
• “Sorry, but it’s crap.”
• “Too bad.”
• “I really wanted this to be interactive.” 
• “Wierd” [sic].
• “I couldn’t figure out the relationship between objects you put together.” 
• “Velcro is wonderful stuff!”
•  “I must have lost my mind, or this really sucks!”
• “Velcro® is a registered trademark. You will soon be hearing from a federal agent about this exhibit.”
• “Fabulous! Good stick-to-itiveness!”
• “Politics r more interesting than this show.”
• “This exhibit will stick with me always.”
• “Sorry we missed you. I have had alcohol tonight.”
•  “What’s this? The Velcro show? Is this a museum exhibit? Why? Why are you showing this? What are you saying?”
• “What is this crap? It’s as if you wanted to make me angry. Good job. Fuck you.”

I enjoyed thinking about what the people who left the comments looked like. The way I figured it: A retired music teacher who likes puns said, “Fabulous! Good stick-to-itiveness!” A couple of students from Denmark said, “Sorry we missed you. I have had alcohol tonight.” And, a couple of folks with really, really red faces and veins pulsing in their foreheads said the angry stuff. Of course, it’s possible that Cyrus wrote all the comments himself—that would be interesting. Either way, if no one has ever done an exhibit just to get people to write angry comments in the Visitor Book, someone should. I’m starting this trend by reviewing the Visitor Book comments.

My favorite comment is probably, “What’s this? The Velcro show? Is this a museum exhibit? Why? Why are you showing this? What are you saying?” That comment has significant texture and layering. It is so…deliciously outraged yet restrained! It’s so many questions jammed all hysterically together. And, it shows a nice escalation of emotion. If only the person had taken an extra minute or two to add a post-modern touch like: “Why? Why am I standing here taking the time to write this? Who am I? Why did I say this?”

So, what was all the fuss about? A bunch of carpeted walls with sort-of-art stuck to it with Velcro. What’s sort-of-art like? Really homely oil paintings, paintings on wood, and painted metal trays like the kind your aunt has. And, little cut-out pictures (flamingos, a flag, a mountain goat, a couch) are stuck onto the sort-of-art with velcro. But, there’s also a suit stuck to the wall with Velcro, that’s decorated with Velcro stripes, and that has a plastic fly and a waffle ball stuck to the crotch with Velcro. And, some other stuff, like a phone with a banana, instead of a receiver, Velcroed to it. The labels for the artworks all had “Variable Painting Base Structure” (this would be the metal tray, oil painting, etc.) and “Suggested Modules” (the cut-out mountain goat, flamingo, etc. to stick on top of the sort-of-artwork).

On Cyrus’s little hand-out postcard, he says that he is “presenting Velcro as a transformative material: resulting in a form of mystic materialism, analogous to the exaltation of traditional art materials and processes (paint, bronze, photography, etc.)…using Velcro to subvert the function of the objects in the show, and to emphasize themes of absurdity, surrealism, mysticism, and intellectual incomprehensibility. The show will simultaneously explore the absurdity of the ‘exhibition’ itself, addressing the inability of a museological view to accurately represent reality.” Cyrus! Dude! No need to return to the bong, man. Mission accomplished. (I think.)

Mostly, the show made me laugh. I kept repeating the words, “Variable Painting Base Structure” and “Suggested Modules.” Try it—you’ll enjoy it. Well, maybe you had to be there, but I enjoyed it. I also dug watching people dart up to the wall and flee. They were pretty sure they were being filmed on Candid Camera and a hand was going to punch through the carpeted wall with a squirt gun. People don’t like to feel like you’re making fun of them—and maybe that’s why the Visitor Book got so irate and juicy? That, and the fact that Cyrus probably got the entire contents of his exhibit from a thrift store. I don’t know. I just know that, after hanging with my strippers and murderers, I had a fine old time stumbling upon Cyrus and his Visitor Book.

Who knows what you’ll find when you explore the City of Books? Strippers? Murderers? Cyrus and his Suggested Modules? Whatever. You’re sure to find your topic of choice—whether it be “absurdity, surrealism, mysticism, or intellectual incomprehensibility”—on the rainbow shelves.

Not in Portland? Visit Powells online.
http://www.powells.com/

Heading to Portland? Get ready to visit Powells.
http://www.powells.com/portland/