[Cornish Crayon]

Kids at dismaland


It's been rolling around in my head since we visited dismaland due to one or two moments witnessed on the opening day, now these thoughts fill me with some kind of elation happiness and I guess a sense of learning topical pride, power ...... I'm not sure how to word it......

I guess sitting there watching the giraffes diving and noticing the younger kids being hypnotised by the whole spectacle followed by the more poignant films based around age, day to day life, love and power, with the soundtracks drawing us all in with laughter smiles and more thought provoking pieces, the younger children seemed more than happy to watch not knowing what was coming next regardless of the unsuspecting use of language, I overheard a couple say it's good for kids to be exposed to this kind of stuff, I actually agree.... In moderation......
But I'm not sure if that stands if you don't know what's coming next ?

Now it's in a controlled environment and it wasn't all about the videos, but based on some of the things on show and with the added excitement of trying to win something during an impossible task there was a real mix up of thought provoking pieces, covered or hidden behind fun and excitement.

We don't have a kiddie (yet) but I guess my thought is, who has taken a youngster (under 16) and what kind of reaction have you had from them, did you regret exposing them to the show or was it not as bad as you thought

I'm probably rambling, but I think you get where I'm coming from.......

Please discuss

[lee3]

>>>who has taken a youngster (under 16) and what kind of reaction have you had from them, did you regret exposing them to the show or was it not as bad as you thought <<<

I was far more worried they wouldn't get in as opposed to worrying about what effect this show would have on them. Then again, this is as close as I plan on taking them to any theme park for the rest of their lives too. I took in the whole thing as beautiful and funny as opposed to sad and dreary however so I suppose it depends on a parent's point of view. About the only thing that would have made me reconsider was if it was truly scary in the sense that people were jumping out from around corners and terrifying them which might result in nightmares (my boys are ages 8 & 5 fwiw). The only thing we prepped them on was the interaction with the staff so they didn't take anything personally and they had smiles galore trying to get a response from many different employees.

All said and done, they loved it and they continue to remind us that they were angry that a sitter had to pick them up at 8pm (they got in around 5) rather then remain with us until closing. We live seemingly half a world away in san francisco and they've been wearing their dismal Ts with pride to school and keep telling me stories of teachers and parents asking them if they went and what their thoughts were. I wore mine the other night to terrapin crossroads and was dumbfounded at how many people asked me about the show and thumbs up here and there. That was fun to relive and tell complete strangers. You don't get too many chances to take the young ones to something that hits you really good as an adult so why not?

I find both of these to be hilarious but i'm probably the juvenile and immature side of an adult far too often, ymmv. This was about the worst they encountered (apart from explaining the princess i suppose) and both are completely harmless and bring a smile to my face.  There are tons more of them staring inquisitively at various paintings and installations and that's kind of what it's all about:

[d.r. perseus]

Im curious lee3... you took your kids to the other side of the world (which is awesome), and as describe, "this is as close as I plan on taking them to any theme park for the rest of their lives too"..

and then only let them hang out for three hours in Dismaland?

Whats the deal with pretty much all of that? just curious.

[lee3]

Aug 30, 2015 19:40:36 GMT 1 d.r. perseus said:

Im curious lee3... you took your kids to the other side of the world (which is awesome), and as describe, "this is as close as I plan on taking them to any theme park for the rest of their lives too"..

and then only let them hang out for three hours in Dismaland?

Whats the deal with pretty much all of that? just curious.

My wife and I are simply not the amusement park type.  We went along for a day to lego land with extended family a number of months ago and all 4 of us loathed it for the typical reasons which is not to suggest anything wrong with those who loves those scenes as do many of my friends/family.  I just prefer to go to a location and hang.  Prior to kids, my wife and I were very active scuba divers and went to uninhabited corners of the planet to see the best fish in their symbiotic environment which to my eyes is way better than any universal or disney land type thing.  So when this opportunity presented itself to go to Dismal, we decided to bring the kids along chevy chase style and hit paris, london and bristol.  

I should be clear that I don't consider Dismaland an amusement park but rather the art event that it is  which happens to play towards my bias of those parks so it was right up my alley.  But, this was a trip for my wife and I first and we had about a week to plan in advance and decided midway through that week to bring the children.  Never had any intention of bringing them to the preview neither were they invited so that was out from the beginning.  Then the next day, we just decided to head over with the kids in tow and get in line.  We were fortunate to get in but we had a sitter planned for the 3 nights that we were in Bristol so we could do stuff with the children by day and focus on the show and other friends by night.  Plus we were ambitious to no end in Paris and the kids were exhausted from walking.  I suppose that is the long winded answer and way more color than you were looking for.  I had no intention of taking a 5 year old on a 11 hour flight for 10 days until one month ago.  In hindsight, it was an amazing experience for us all with the higher highs and lower lows typical of parenthood. 

Bottom line is after a few shows over the past decade, I'm of the opinion that a Banksy show is not to be missed and have come to expect the best experience from him for the visual arts. Up until seeing this show, I didn't expect anything to exceed Bristol of 6 years ago and am delighted to admit I was wrong as Dismaland is even better.  Now, I'm happy to pass along that bias to my children.  

[d.r. perseus]

That a wonderfully perfect long winded answer. Thanks

[begs]

my daughter today just having a staring match with one of the staff trying to make him blink or smile every body taking photo,s will post one tomorrow ,brill

[Dungle]

Mine loved it

[Johnnyroyale]

My two loved it
Dismal

[Cornish Crayon]

From the guardian:

How I crushed my eight-year-old’s innocence at Dismaland

Watching my youngest daughter grow increasingly disillusioned as we took in Banksy’s circus of cynicism made me wonder if I should have taken her there at all

Follow contributor Tim Lott
Published: 13:30 BST Friday, 04 September 2015
590


My wife, my two youngest daughters, Eva (13) and Louise (eight), and I visited Banksy’s Dismaland “bemusement park” in Weston-super-Mare last week. We had previously enjoyed the occasional day in the town, taking donkey rides, eating candyfloss, paddling in the freezing sea. But Dismaland was a different kind of ocean – one of irony, cynicism and disillusion.

It was an experience like no other. The grim reaper dancing to Staying Alive on a dodgem car. The sulky attendants with their Mickey Mouse ears replying monosyllabically to inquiries. The stuffed unicorn. The photo galleries where you stick your head through a hole and take a picture of yourself as a terrorist. The drive-your-own model boats full of desperate migrants.



This isn’t a review of Dismaland, though. Instead, it concerns the growing level of discomfort I felt as I led Louise through the increasingly dour (but extremely funny) installations.

Pocket Money Loans, available only to children, was one of the more inspired items; you can borrow £5, so long as you pay back £50 by the end of the month. We tried to suppress our grins throughout (the attendants who ushered us in sternly instructed “no smiling”), which was hard – although more so for us adults than Louise, who seemed increasing doleful about the experience as the day progressed. “This isn’t very nice,” she observed, plaintively. She was too young to grasp that “niceness” was the very thing it stood against and purported, in many cases, to expose – ripping back the carcass of modern commercial and familial myths to expose the decaying core within.

My unease grew at the post-apocalyptic “Disney castle”, which features a video loop of the end of Cinderella as you enter – the bit where the prince and Cinders go off to live happily ever after. Then you walk through to the punchline – a giant pumpkin coach, crashed, with the legs of the dead princess sticking out. We were offered, and took, the opportunity to have our photograph taken next to the crash scene. Louise looked positively downcast.

By now, I was beginning to wonder if this whole artwork/satire was appropriate for someone who, at a pinch, still believes in magic and princesses and unicorns. She was having her illusions slowly torched, leaving her stranded in a world unencumbered by illusion, leaving only decay, exploitation and all that is rotten in human nature. By the time we got to the next exhibit, which included a video of chickens being beheaded on a production line, I began to feel guilty about bringing her.

Doubtless I was being oversensitive. Louise said she enjoyed herself, and carried her “I am an imbecile” balloon with pride. Yet, she had been subjected to a crash course in postmodern despair, and no doubt some of it stuck. I suppose that is what is meant to happen, but I wonder if the insistence of art on emphasising the decadent is really any more suitable for children than an 18-rated film.

We cannot wait to disabuse ourselves of the myths that society hoists on us. To do so makes us laugh, makes us feel clever, convinces us that we are trenchant, knowing critics of the world in which we live. But perhaps we have nowhere to live but myths, whether it is the myth of decadence or the myth of niceness and happy endings. The only question, really, is which myth is bearable.

I know Louise lives in a far more rich and beautiful world then I do, because she does not – yet – see below the surface of things to the stark reality underneath. Do I really have the right to sully her imaginings and substitute such a vision? It will happen soon enough without my help, or Banksy’s. In the end, I’m glad we went – but I wonder if it should have been me carrying the imbecile balloon, rather than Louise.