Photo By Gail

At first glance, Disco Bomb (1989) looks like a joke you might spot after midnight: a mirrored disco ball topped with a synthetic orange wig. But in the hands of German artist Martin Kippenberger (1953 – 1997) , that punchline becomes a pointed meditation on surface, identity, and cultural excess.

This eye-catching  work fuses nightlife glamour with something oddly human. The disco ball — pure spectacle, all reflection and shimmer — meets a wig, an object tied to disguise, performance, and self-invention. Together, they form a kind of anti-portrait: faceless, fabulous, and faintly ridiculous. Viewers catch their own reflections in its mirrored skin, becoming part of the work whether they like it or not.

Like much of Kippenberger’s art, Disco Bomb resists heavy symbolism while quietly skewering it. The piece revels in artifice, pop culture, and bad taste, asking whether depth is always necessary  — or whether surfaces alone can tell us more than we expect. Funny, abrasive, and smarter than it lets on, it’s classic Kippenberger: art that sparkles, smirks, and refuses to behave.

Disco Bomb exists in an edition of nine unique variants plus three artist’s proofs, but this one was spotted at the Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA) in Los Angeles