Story by Gavin Bartolome & Owen Hou
Staff Writers

Photos by Zoe Chen & Emiko Essmiller
Staff Photographer & Photography Editor

The word “museum” often conjures images of fossils, antique paintings, or airplanes dating back to the early 20th century in the mind, not a bouquet of balloons and a ragtag band of sentient blobs. Despite this, the Balloon Museum, located in Los Angeles near Little Tokyo, was the perfect place for a Tiger outing.

Upon our entrance into the museum, our group — Owen, Gavin, Zoe, and Emiko — walked into a garden filled with whimsical, abstract inflated shapes: From stacks of donuts to bloated, rainbow igloos, seeing the inflatables was truly a one-of-a-kind experience. They were reminiscent of childhood bounce houses. Gavin gleefully threw a large sphere in Owen’s face, nearly knocking him over. Yet after realizing that the shapes were not meant to be touched, we swiftly made an exit up the stairs towards the next exhibit.

Our group briefly passed through the piece “Quadriga” by Max Streicher. The centerpiece of the artwork was a group of milky white horses prancing in the air. We were then welcomed with a dazzling flurry of colors. Ouchhh’s piece “AI Dataportal of” cleverly displayed the air quality data of the city to propagate thousands of colorful patterns that flowed over the walls and off the arched mirrors. Information that is often never seen or understood was metamorphosed into tangible images to evoke reflection within the viewer. 

Moving forward, the next artwork resembled a box, holding a single centerpiece surrounded by a maze made of green inflatable pipes in which we almost got lost. 

“It’s a creeper!” Owen exclaimed before darting deep in. A child’s innocence never fades.

With Gavin smacking his head on every other turn in the tunnels, we slowly slipped our way out to the next installation.

Brushing past curtains, we were met with a stark white room and an ethereal line of dark black donut rings. After such vibrant displays of creativity, the simplistic nature of “ZEROS” by spY brought a wave of quiet peace. Naturally, we were quickly drawn to the shifting portal formed by the rings, trying our best to unsuccessfully catch glimpses of each other through the donut holes. 

Gavin, quite self-aware, noted, “I don’t think I’m mature enough to understand this art.”

Next was a room crafted by Hyperstudio, structured like an expansive swimming pool. Bright LED lights covered the walls, with black orbs stuck to the roof. However, the main center of attraction was the three-foot-deep ball pit covering the floor. 

It took no time before we hurled ourselves deep into the shifting pool, sinking under the layers of black balls. In a rapid turn of events, Gavin emerged from beneath the surface, mildly panicked about losing his phone.Owen followed, declaring  that his shoe had come off in the exhibit. Thankfully, we emerged from the pit with Owen’s shoe and Gavin’s phone, courtesy of Zoe. 

“A Quiet Storm” by Quiet Ensemble was the next piece. Settling ourselves into a dimly lit black box, we swatted away fog-filled bubbles that gleamed in the light. After a high five, the bubbles’ sticky residue fused Owen and Gavin’s hands together like glue. Supported by an angelic chorus resounding around the piece, the artwork flew by in an instant and it was time to move on. 

Although brief, “The GINJOS” by Rub Kandy was one of the most playful experiences. Dotted around in a room splattered with graffiti-like paintings were blobbish and extremely huggable creatures. To Owen, they looked punchable. 

A pair of soft curtains that we quickly slid undermarked the halfway point through the museum.  We entered a room filled from head to toe with panels of mirrors and lined with reflective spheres in a gridlike pattern on the floor and ceiling. Gavin tried his best to snap a cool photo to capture the moment, but ended up catching the eyes of one-too-many passerby instead. Needless to say, we did not stay long.

Soon, we found ourselves in an enclosure of clear spheres filled with inflatables of what appeared to be eggplant-shaped birds, called Spiritus Sonata by ENESS. They towered over us, standing roughly 10 feet high — around two and a half Gavins. After marveling in the glory of the balloon birds and almost toppling two over, we took our leave.

Next, we found ourselves in a brightly lit black room with human-sized spheres on strings hanging from the ceiling. We observed a father knock down his kid by launching a ball at his back. Witnessing the shock on the child’s face, we stifled laughter as we walked through the hall and onto the next room.

We arrived at a floor covered in bean-bag-like pillows with a giant mechanical butterfly — “Mariposa,” created by Christopher Schardt — at the front. The insect illuminated the dark room with thousands of LEDs on its body, the flapping of its wings powered by a single kid swaying back and forth connected to a bench beneath it. Exploring the enclosure, we almost lost a man, as Owen had to be shaken awake after getting a little too comfy on one of the oversized bean bags. Quickly, he sprang back to life, and onwards we ventured. 

Once we made it through the next doorway, we found ourselves in a massive enclosure that held two exhibits.

From afar, the room was a strange sight: multiple blank walls covered in black markings, with an enormous, clear ball in the center that had little black nubbins on its surface. After walking into the exhibit, however, we realized that the little knobs were charcoal, and that the balloon’s purpose was to be pushed and bounced by museum goers to draw patterns on the walls. During our time in the room, we pushed the ball around at each other before accidentally almost knocking over a child. Luckily, the sphere slowed enough so we could catch it before that happened. With a sigh of relief, our group traveled to the next exhibit.

Next was a dark white room with balloons littered all over the floor, called “Perpetual Ballet” by Mauro Pace. Although it seemed plain at first, the vents on the sides of the small room began to blow, sending the inflatables into a frenzied cyclone that enveloped the whole room. Laughter filled the air as hair and balloons whipped around the onlookers.

Finally was the most technological of all the installations: “Airscape” by Sila Sveta — a VR experience that seemed to mimic a fever dream of vibrant colors and soft shapes. After exiting the final work, we took a picture in one of the photo cubbies set up by the organization and meandered around the gift shop, where Owen spent around 20 minutes deciding whether or not to spend $15 on a plush Ginjo. He ended up buying it with absolutely no regrets. 

Throughout the Balloon Museum’s numerous exhibits, we laughed, we cried, and we silently observed the inflatable art. For a limited-time museum, it was the perfect day to spend with friends, offering a curious and unique experience. From start to finish, the museum truly was a one-of-a-kind experience: whimsical, mind-boggling, and yet somehow elegant, all at the same time. It is a limited exhibit, only around until Mar. 16 of this year, so those who want to enjoy the experience must decide whether the $50 ticket is worth the price.