Bright Light National Gallery Shows Complexity, Fun in Flavinís Fluorescent Tubes by Michael Coleman The National Gallery of Art rarely has this much unbridled fun. The serious-minded museum is taking on a new lightóquite literallyówith its exhibition featuring the work of Dan Flavin. The late New York-born artist used fluorescent tubes to create dazzling visual displays that simultaneously challenge the senses and evoke a whimsical mood. Flavinís fluorescent lights, arranged into pieces of art between the early 1960s and the late 1980s, feel contemporary and retro at the same time. Visitors to the gallery will be unable to ignore the odd power and beauty of Flavinís most prominent piece, a four-foot-high wall of fluorescent green boxes that beckons from the museumís second floor. As you ascend the stairs and stroll toward this captivating work of art, you realize that this isnít going to be your typical National Gallery experience. ìDan Flavin: A Retrospectiveî takes visitors through a chronological tour of Flavinís work, completed over the course of 35 years. The smartly arranged exhibition of more than 40 Flavin ìlightsî demonstrates the various means through which the arti st experimented with light, color and interior space. Moving beyond the 120-foot-long neon green behemoth, which is visible from Pennsylvania Avenue, the works suddenly become much smaller, organized into a series of eight garish, so-called ìiconsî that employ the glittering gold backgrounds found in religious icons but topped with cheap, even tacky bulbs. At first, some of these icons can be hard to comprehend as serious artóbut they are. One pieceóa flesh-colored canvas framed by 28 flame-shaped bulbsóis a commentary on homosexuality. Another icon, a tribute to the early 20th-century bluesman Blind Lemon Jefferson, simulates the dangerous, raw energy of Jeffersonís music with a series of flashing red incandescent bulbs, mounted in porcelain sockets on a dark canvas. In one of the brochures that accompany the exhibition, Flavin is quoted as saying his icons are something quite different from those created for the church. ìMy icons do not raise up the blessed savior in elaborate cathedrals, they are constituted concentrations celebrating barren rooms,î said Flavin, who died in 1996 at the age of 63. Indeed, Flavinís work often relies on the barren rooms of the museum to achieve its effectiveness. Moving beyond the icons, the works begin to grow in scale as the lights become more varied. And the new lights they cast on the museumís walls are a major part of the fun. ìUntitled (to the ìinnovatorî of Wheeling Peachblow)î appears as a simple boxófour tubes alternating white and yellow to form a frame. But the lights create a new light all their own, casting the wall contained within the box in a soft peach glow. A group of Flavinís well-known ìmonumentsî to V. Tatlin demonstrate his use of serial repetition and permutation, and are shown together in a single room. The range of Flavinís ability is also represented by pieces that include political subject matter, such as ìmonument 4 those who have been killed in ambush (to P.K. who reminded me about death),î an installation in red light that alludes to the Vietnam War. In other works, Flavin offers respectful, slightly humorous homage to fellow artists such as Robert Ryman and Ad Reinhardt. Many of Flavinís larger pieces are better observed from a distance. When the viewer comes closer, the worksóespecially those that rely on the juxtaposition of different colored lights to create altogether new colorsócan lose their ethereal glow. The most physically challenging work is undoubtedly the untitled piece that covers an entire wall and uses several hundred bulbs ranging from blood red to royal blue and brilliant, blinding white. One visitor was seen shielding his eyes from the glare, and if you stand close enough, you can smell a faint, acrid odor emitted from the lights. The untitled work is dazzling in its aggressiveness, but once again, a more subdued effect looms under the glare, a function of the interplay of different colors. Dan Flavinís art, unlike many of his contemporaries who also used light to create new illusions, is lasting because of its thoughtfulness and complexity. And he deserves a lot of credit for making serious art that is just plain fun, too. ìDan Flavin: A Retrospectiveî runs through Jan. 9 at the National Gallery of Art, located on the National Mall between 3rd and 9th Streets at Constitution Avenue, NW. For more information, please call (202) 737-4215 or visit www.nga.gov. Michael Coleman is a freelance writer in Washington, D.C.