It's the work I most remember from childhood visits to the museum. A giant, floppy oscillating fan: it’s funny and fun, almost custom made for a child. It stayed on view for years, plainly visible through the glass of the Mies lobby on Bissonnet Street, the first thing you'd see entering the museum. It’s a machine made for cooling, stripped of its purpose, made flaccid and useless. A good joke, especially in hot old Houston—the fan gave up the ghost! For me, though, the goofiness of Oldenburg’s fan just feels like a beloved old friend. It feels like home.

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