Humor and fine art are not often seen as particularly cooperative. Yet the 67th Scripps College Ceramic Annual, “Making Fun,” proves true to its name with inspiring results. Curated by Tim Berg, a professor of Ceramics at Pitzer, the show jokes, mocks, and embraces whimsy and fantasy with a healthy dose of self-deprecation. Despite its lighthearted nature and strong visual appeal, the themes of the show seems, in part, a critique. Art is often produced and viewed with much seriousness, but “Making Fun” attempts to point out the fallacies of taking any art completely seriously, while showing that humor can also aid an art work’s social or philosophical intentions.

Upon entering the gallery space, viewers are immediately greeted by Matt Wedel’s “Flower Tree” (2007), which, with its bright colors and fanciful shape, serves to welcome them into the show’s strange fantasy land. Wedel’s two life-sized poodle statues, one glazed gold and one pink, stand near the front of the room as if they were “guarding” its contents. The whimsical orchestral soundtrack to an animated film piece plays over the gallery’s speakers, further encouraging the mood of the exhibition.

Thomas Muller’s “Majestic (diptych)” (2010), exemplifies the show’s complex balance of visual fun and sly commentary. Across the gallery space, the work initially seems to consist of two large photographs of a clay elephant standing on top of a ripe, juicy red tomato. As one approaches, however, one can see matching white pedestals in front of each photo, on top of which are a Plexiglas boxes containing the original clay elephant and tomato from the photograph.

This setup would normally seem redundant, but the temporality of the (very real) tomatoes make for a interesting juxtaposition. At the time of my visit, the tomatoes were no longer round and juicy. They were rotten and covered with mold. One of the tomatoes was in fact so disintegrated that the clay elephant had fallen off and was lying pathetically on its side next to the formally glorious fruit. As a whole, the dioramas were fairly disgusting.

Ephemerality and decay seem to be central to Muller’s piece. The title of the work is dually ironic. A clay elephant standing atop tomato, photographed in brilliant color and to a gargantuan scale, is itself a parody of ‘majesty.’ Yet the molding tomatoes and fallen elephants prove even further that ‘majesty’, and therefore beauty, can be constructed—images should never be interpreted as the truth, and all perfection is fleeting.

Mathew McConnell’s installation “Brighter than Real” (2009) also moves beyond itself as an object and, through visual humor, seems to comment on today’s glitz-driven world. In this multimedia piece, ceramic Mickey mice with crossed eyes and exploding stuffing lay as if dead on the ground in front of a haphazard scatter of fluorescent light rods surrounding a large, jagged stone on a pillar. The wall behind is embossed with geometric, futuristic lines and shapes of gold leaves. The entire installation is illuminated with a cold, white light fromthe light rods.

The most immediate iconography in the piece is the Mickeys, the classic symbol of Disney. The Mickeys seem to have been blinded, killed, or stunned by the light rods and other pieces in the installation, which could mean several different things. If Mickey is seen as a representation of older or traditional media, then the lights rods, stone, and backdrop—whose jagged lines and glitzy colors imply cutting-edge modernism—could be seen as the new media which is overtaking it: computer graphics over hand-drawn animation, internet, and web-based. If Mickey represents entertainment as a whole, then the artist could be saying that the entire industry has gotten too large, too extravagant, too “bright” for itself and is now out of anyone’s control. One could also derive a commentary on nature versus artificiality. The large stone, although impressive in its mass, is almost overshadowed by the Mickey figurines, glaring lights, and gold designs. The artificial is “brighter” than the “real.”

Yet even if these objects were not representational, their physical interactions are interesting and witty in and of themselves. Gaudily painted cartoon figurines are not often associated with rough, hulking stones, and thus, even the interplay between style, texture, and color between the two types of object is intriguing. The Mickeys’ shiny ceramic surface emphasizes the natural ruggedness of the rock, which, in turn, causes the Mickeys to seem even more artificial. The bright, white light emitted by the rods encircles the rock and thus gives it importance, but also creates a distinct space between the Mickeys and the rock which seems impassable. The graphic gold patterned background unites the separate objects into one sphere, and its strong graphic design reminds the viewer that this installation is, in fact, a work of art.

Although more works than just McConnell’s and Muller’s promote an underlying message, as a whole, the art pieces in the exhibition are perhaps more interested in their own visual appeal as objects. Many of the pieces are about craftsmanship, color, and form. In the case of the poodles, for example, the slightly caricatured shape and features of the life-sized dogs give them a quirky charm, and the pink and gold glazes further send them into a realm of fantasy. “Flower Tree” similarly derives its value from its physical beauty—the aqua-glazed anemone-like tree sprouting the chunky, bright, orange geometric base—rather than any deep social or philosophical agenda.

Ultimately, “Making Fun” reveals the power of humor in art to delight, to amuse, to surprise, and to inspire. Although no piece is alike in its intentions—some use sly wit to explore probing questions or idealogical themes, while others embody merriment through exuberant forms and capricious iconography—they all are united by an utter lack of pretense. This is art with a loud voice, but it doesn’t lecture or preach. It laughs.