POP ART · WORK

Floor Burger

Claes Oldenburg · 1962

The cheapest, most disposable object in America, a fast-food hamburger, blown up to about seven feet across and then made soft, so the monument sags and slumps on the floor under its own weight instead of standing on a pedestal.

The canvas
Tap to zoom
Claes Oldenburg, Floor Burger, 1962. Canvas filled with foam rubber and cardboard boxes, painted with acrylic. 4 ft 4 in × 7 ft 5 in.
Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto. Purchase, 1967 (acc. 66/29)
Look closer
Find these on the canvas above
  1. The giant sagging bun
    The top of the object, the swollen pale dome capping the burger
    The top bun is a huge hand-painted dome, and it does not sit crisply the way a real bun does. It bulges and settles, the soft canvas pulling into folds where the stuffing has shifted under it. The freshness a real burger advertises is replaced by slump: the bun reads as something that has been sat on, sagging into its own weight.
  2. The patty
    The dark disc wedged in the middle, between the two buns
    A thick dark disc jammed between the buns, and it is the densest, most solid-looking part of the whole thing. Conservators noted the patty and lower bun kept their shape best over the decades, so it reads as the heavy core the rest of the burger droops around, the one part that holds while everything above and below it gives way.
  3. The slump and the soft folds
    The whole object where it meets the floor, the creases and spreading lower edge
    The burger spreads outward at the bottom, settling on the floor under roughly 700 pounds of its own weight. The creases and sags are not modeled or carved by the artist: they are where gravity, not Oldenburg, finished the shaping. This is the anti-monument in plain view, an object that cannot stand up or strike a pose because it is too soft to.
  4. The hand-painted canvas surface
    Across the whole skin of the burger, the worked, slightly grimy finish
    The color is acrylic brushed onto cotton-duck canvas, not a printed wrapper or a molded plastic shell. There is visible brushwork and a slightly grubby, handled, worked-by-hand finish rather than a slick product render. It looks made, not manufactured, which is part of the joke: the most machine-made food in America, rendered by hand in paint on cloth.
  5. The scale you stand over
    The footprint of the whole piece, sitting low and wide on the gallery floor
    It is about seven feet across and only about four feet tall, so it sits directly on the floor and the viewer looks down at it. A monument is usually something you crane up at on a pedestal; here you tower over a hamburger. It dwarfs you sideways while staying beneath you, which keeps the comedy and the colossal scale in the same object at once.
  6. The seams, the stitching, and the pickle
    Along the joins of the sewn forms, and the sliced disc perched on top
    This thing was sewn. The seams of the stitched-and-stuffed forms are findable along the joins (Patty Mucha ran them up on her own home Singer machine), and the foam and cardboard cartons were packed in through zippers in the underside. Perched on top is a sliced pickle, the comic punctuation of the whole piece; the pickle now on the burger is a later replacement.
The story · 5 chapters
~18 min total
1
New York · 1961–62
A shopkeeper-artist, selling soft food
Oldenburg rents a Lower East Side storefront, fills it with handmade painted copies of the goods in the neighborhood shops, and calls it The Store. For its 1962 uptown run at the Green Gallery he makes a set of room-scale soft food: a giant burger, a giant cake, a giant ice-cream cone.
2
The making
Sewn on a home Singer, stuffed with foam and cartons
Not carved or cast: sewn from cotton-duck canvas by the artist Patty Mucha on her own home sewing machine, a technique she brought from the costumes she made for Oldenburg's performances, painted in acrylic by Oldenburg, and packed so full it needed upholstery foam and empty cardboard cartons fed in through a zipper underneath. A monument made like a cushion.
3
The object
A burger the size of a sofa, slumping
The swollen hand-painted bun, the thick dark patty wedged between, the findable seams of the sewn forms, the whole thing spreading and sagging on the floor under roughly 700 pounds of its own weight, the sliced pickle perched on top as the punchline. You stand over it and look down.
4
The break
The monument that sags
A monument is hard, vertical, heroic, built to ennoble its subject and last. Oldenburg takes the least heroic object imaginable, makes it colossal, and then makes it soft, so it droops on the floor and cannot hold a pose. The everyday object becomes the monument, and the humor is the content, not a garnish.
5
After
The whopper that caused a scandal in Toronto
Bought by the Art Gallery of Ontario from the Sidney Janis Gallery in 1967 for a token US $2,000, to public uproar (students built a giant plywood ketchup bottle in protest). Conserved in 2012 and still on view, one of the defining objects of Pop Art's move into three dimensions.
1962
Made
~7 ft across · ~4 ft 4 in tall
Dimensions
Art Gallery of Ontario
Now at
Provenance
Every hand it passed through
1962
Claes Oldenburg (the artist)
New York
Made in 1962 for the uptown showing of The Store at the Green Gallery (dealer Richard Bellamy), alongside Floor Cake and Floor Cone. Sewn and stuffed by the artist Patty Mucha (then Patty Oldenburg) on her own home Singer machine, the sewn-soft technique carried over from the costumes she made for Oldenburg's performances; painted by Oldenburg.
c. 1962–1967
Sidney Janis Gallery
New York
Handled by the Sidney Janis Gallery, New York, the dealer the Art Gallery of Ontario bought it from.
1967–today
a token sum, reported at US $2,000
Art Gallery of OntarioMuseum
Toronto
Purchased from the Sidney Janis Gallery, finalized 27 January 1967, for a token sum (a reported US $2,000, a handshake figure rather than a market valuation). Credit line "Purchase, 1967"; accession 66/29 (the prefix reflects the 1966 fiscal cycle, but the AGO gives 1967 as the acquisition year). Conserved in 2012 by AGO conservator Sherry Phillips. On view; in copyright.