Tiptoe Through the Silver

Last week was a lucky week for Les Levine, a 31-year-old leprechaun who was born in Dublin, studied art in London, and has since migrated to New York to become a member of the rapidly expanding environmental school of art. Like George Segal, Edward Kienholz, Jim Dine, Lucio Fontana, Louise Nevelson, Cassen & Stern, Lucas Samaras and a host of others, Levine makes total rooms, not individual works of art. Most environmental artists, however, are lucky if they can manage to get one room displayed at a time in a single city. Last week in Manhattan, Les Levine had two displays.

On the upper-terrace garden of the Museum of Modern Art, Levine and a cadre of workmen had constructed something called The Star Garden. At the corners of an open 40-ft.-square area were four separate oblong bubbles, each 7 ft. high, and 16 ft. on each side, made of a clear, fire-retardant plastic. The visitor was invited to walk between instead of around these bubbles. The process was supposed to induce "giddiness" and "weightlessness," which .in turn would make the viewer feel like a star in outer space.

At the Architectural League, Levine had what he called a "Slipcover" exhibit. Three entire rooms--floors, ceilings and walls--were hung in a thick, shimmering silver fabric that reflected the people looking at it, and was used as a screen for projected slides, including, by way of a signature, pictures of Levine himself. In addition, two of the rooms had huge bags of the same material, which were regularly puffed up and then deflated by wind machines. To some, they looked like pillows for the Jolly Green Giant, to others, like an overwrought udder. Levine explains that he goes in for environmental art because "paintings are dumb. A person should be able to move through his environment and absorb what is happening."

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