In land-locked European cities where modernity can be ignored among Baroque architecture, I have a routine of cosplay. Headphones on, large coat tied at the waist (always a teddy - never a puffer), I like to walk fast with no directions under the pretense that I live in the “city”. Regardless of whether I would actually  like to live in the location, I have an instinctual desire to blend in. 

My routine was stopped in Vienna as my oh-so-nonchalant gaze could not ignore the glaring Mcdonald's arches directly at the five-minute mark between the metro stop and my Airbnb. Sadistically hung from a building that has survived more bloodshed than I could fathom, those damn golden arches were strung in grotesque golden glory. Every time I wanted to go “home”, I felt an immediate sense of uneasiness upon seeing the American emblem at a moment where I was striving to distance myself. Alas! My cosplay exterior was dismantled, not by a deep urge to haunt the halls of Mickey Ds, but the stark realization that no matter where I went, the arches would pervade.

I kept up my pseudo-cosplay for the next few days with a grimace. This was not my first time seeing a McDonald's outside of the States, but I couldn’t quite understand why this location in particular had me so paranoid. In the Albertina museum, a building littered with some of the finest European art worldwide, I had my Eureka moment as I stumbled upon American Prospects by Joel Sternfeld when deciding between the exit and the final exhibition space next to the door. On the off chance of seeing an exhibition dedicated to American imagery in Vienna, I had the privilege of seeing a visual apparition of the perverse tension I had been feeling. 

Joel Sternfeld’s American Prospects is a series of 71 images that encapsulates the paranoid grey void between the Americana and America, the nude vs the naked in the U.S.-centric ideology. In the history of art, there is a stark difference between the portrayal of women as nude (a highly idealized apparition of the male gaze) versus the naked: being a woman rather than exuding a curated image of femininity. I believe Americana aligns with the nude, seeking to glorify the American identity through flag-bearing and eagle-touting excess. It can be satirical or iconic, as personified in the pop culture iconography of Lana Del Rey and Priscilla, or intentionally blunt to galvanize an audience (think the unironic fear-conjuring use of American flags at a Trump rally). In contrast, I view ‘America’ more like the naked - the earnest repercussions of an excess-driven culture with no free healthcare, staggering rates of income inequality, and epidemics of opioids and obesity. It is through this series that Sternfeld uses the juxtaposition between the Americana and the American to reflect the fragility, looming insecurity, vulnerability, and alienation within the American psyche. Through the idealistic veneers of Americana imagery - scenes of capitalist excess, military might, pleasure, and drastically diverse landscapes - he maintains a distinct thread of American disorder. 

In Little Talbot Beach, Florida, Sternfeld brilliantly presents an image of beauty synonymous with the Americana - a leggy bikini-clad blonde - outstretched in the foreground. She aligns with the nude - an idealized image of femininity that loses all autonomy to the viewer. The artificiality of the Americana embedded in her choice composure is illuminated upon seeing the fleet of military ships looming on the horizon: an apparition of paranoia concealed behind pleasure. 

I believe this image best represents my own perverse upset at seeing that McDonald’s: seeing a clear image of Americana excess disentangled from the veneer, leaving the contradictions of the American on full display. Sternfeld’s art felt like a visual manifestation of the tension I had been feeling in seeing a flagrant emblem of excess within a European country that could clearly see through the Americana veneer. 

As non-Americans have kindly asked how “we” are processing the election results in recent days, I’ve been reflecting on the shared tension between my viewership of Little Talbot Beach and seeing the McDonalds logo abroad. In lieu of being earnest, my immediate instinct to roll my eyes or laugh in a moment of sincerity attests to the insecurity that I feel is innate to America. In a culture built on contradictions, it feels more comfortable to seek escapism in the aestheticized falsities of Americana rather than acknowledge the shame of America; it is easier to satirize a subject and control the narrative than it is to allow the embarrassment to consume you. 

While it is unideal to have a personal affiliation to an identity constructed on contradictory foundations, it is equally as embarrassing to project insecurities because you cannot grapple with the reality of your own nationality-based angst. The fragility of the American experience cannot be overcome through Americana-based escapism - choosing to live in ignorant bliss over reality. If you look closely at the woman in the foreground of Little Talbot Beach, you can see she’s starting to burn.