There is something significant about experiencing something meant purely for play and joy. Made for children to climb around on, the rides are vibrant, mythical, far-fetched, and uninhibited; experiencing them is thus unique from visiting a traditional art exhibit. Each ride lights up and spins, music and circus performers often accompany it, and the sheer beauty of it all is awe-inducing. At some level, it really is that simple. The rides are there for aesthetics, there to make you smile. They might not be in use anymore but still cater to a pure, even naïve tendency for joy.

The irony, then, is as strong as the draw. Arik Brauer's merry-go-round featured mythical creatures for children to sit on, in, around, and under; it asked them to play on their terms. Yet at Luna Luna, a line on the floor restricts visitors from being too close to the ride. The mismatch between intent and longevity is striking. Outside the Dalí funhouse is a mat of tape to remove debris from visitors' shoes before stepping on the original paint. The rides are fragile, and especially giving emphasis on restoration that brought the rides back to life, there is an effort to conserve the pieces.

On its own terms, the exhibit is fascinating. A timeline situating the artists and their works for the project alongside larger world affairs–Dadaism, surrealism, and other forms of art respond to the violence of World War I, World War II sees the rise of European fascism, 1980 brings about a return to conservatism with Reagan, Thatcher, and Kohl as the highest elected officials in the US, England, and Germany respectively–and topically relevant more specific moments–"Gil Scott-Heron records' Whitey on the Moon,' a spoken-word poem criticizing the US government for funding the space program while ignoring poverty and racial justice on Earth," and "Treasures of Tutankhamun opens at the British Museum, London, on March 29, and the contemporary museum blockbuster exhibition is born." Noting the latter moment indicates a level of self-awareness in the display–Luna Luna is not trying to be something other than a museum.

Still, the loss between 1987 and 2024 Luna Luna is farther-reaching. Luna Luna was, in some ways, only about play, but that was never antithetical to its being revolutionary. The art featured vulgar caricatures of European "high" art, scathing critiques of fascism from the children of Holocaust victims, indictments of the US's systemic anti-Blackness, an appeal to disassociate value from capital, a marriage booth for unpoliced love, the list goes on. It is not that these rides were not meant to be beautiful and dynamic but that those things were never antithetical to being radical. GilSing's flags, which originally hung throughout the park but now float throughout the warehouse, are accompanied by the note that GilSing "aimed to infuse the flags with joy and play, instead of their typical associations with politics and promotion." The idea of removing the political from a flag is itself political. That concept governed the nature of the park as a whole and is worth keeping in mind in seeing its reinvention.

The park was always for something and against something, even if that means only that it was for play and against pretension and restricted form. As a visitor, you pay a (steep) entrance fee, you are limited from entering any attractions without a more expensive pass, you can opt to pay more for the liberatory marriage booth, and then you of course exit through a gift shop. The Hamburg fair also included a marriage fee, a magazine advertised on most park signs, and posters and clothes merchandised in the park. Still, there is something disingenuous about how the artists' works are situated in the commercial elements of the exhibit.

Luna Luna looks to draw lines between presenting and reliving and between unpacking and documenting. The result is imperfect, but not irrevocably so. The art is stunning and pointed, and situated in time, it tells a dynamic, multi-generational, international, cross-genre, and cross-medium story. The narrative is worth reckoning with in the context of its ahistorical and business-oriented form for help with which visitors can look simply to the very pieces on display.