Joel Meisler hosts a massive pool party at 30 Rockefeller Center

On a recent afternoon, a couple was viewing Joel Meisler’s latest exhibition at the Beaux-Arts townhouse at Lévy Gorvy Dayan Gallery on New York’s Upper East Side when Meisler himself stopped them and asked a startling question. “Have you seen the secret clown room?” the art dealer-turned-artist said. “You really have to see the secret clown room.”

Hidden behind sliding doors on the gallery’s first floor, the “Secret Clown Room” contains eight portraits of clowns in, you guessed it, various states of happiness (or pain). The works are exceptions to Meisler’s exhibition, titled “The Kitchen Is a Good Place to Cry,” which consists of new paintings, sculptures, and installations. They’re a bit of an inside joke. “If anyone hasn’t seen that room,” Meisler said in an interview, “they probably left too early. When they hear about this, maybe they’ll feel they have to come back.”

“The foot traffic has increased,” he said with a broad smile.

In a sense, the Lévy Gorvy Dayan exhibition is the end of one chapter in Mesler’s life, and the beginning of a new one. “It feels like the end of the first act,” says the 50-year-old artist. “After this, I don’t have to tell my story anymore. I can stop living in the past and live in the present. Maybe I’ll even help other people tell their stories.”

Visiting the exhibition is like tiptoeing through the colorful skins that Meisler has shed over the years, from his childhood in Los Angeles to his time as an alcoholic art dealer on Manhattan’s Lower East Side to his move to the Hamptons in 2016. It was there, in the East, that he 12-stepped his way out of alcoholism. In the basement of his art space, Rental Gallery, he began making drawings: brightly colored paintings, often embellished with text in jaunty bubble letters.

The first room of the current Lévy Gorvy Dayan exhibition is covered in wallpaper that mimics the way summer sunlight dances and glides across the top of a swimming pool. Mesler designed the room for the exhibition with the brand Martinique. Small pilasters hold 200-pound beach balls, cast in bronze and painted to match the room. Each beach ball is decorated with a different word—“Life,” “Love,” “Mom”—and painted to look like the metallic helium balloons that are ubiquitous at children’s birthday parties.

Downstairs, the second room takes on a darker tone. The bright, six-foot-tall paintings here feature phrases like “PLAY THE HITS” and “GO GO” in 70s-style fonts. The words are set atop scenic mountains, with snow on the tops hinting at cocaine addiction and the subsequent loss of control. One image captures this feeling, with the words “ITS FINE” thick and brown, melting into the murky river below. Above it all, a white “hill” with a rainbow peeking out from it. A glittering disco ball in the upper left seems to be suspended from invisible clouds. Another painting features the words “PARTY TIME” in messy lines. This time, the rainbow looks eerie behind the shadowy white hillside.

Upstairs is where the fun is. In a gallery, amid display cases filled with small paintings, trinkets and childhood mementos, Mesler has set up a table and a sofa. There are also two comfy chairs, a rug and a desk. “This is literally an extension of my office,” he says. “I call it my office.” Mesler isn’t kidding: He’s there every day. He works a banker’s schedule, sitting in a chair behind his desk with a balloon sculpture spelling out the word “JOY” hanging below it. There’s even a working phone. In one corner, next to a stack of CDs, there’s an easel where he paints portraits of LGD employees.

“I was literally just sitting here waiting to see what would happen,” Messler said. “People were peeking in and asking if they could come in. I said, ‘Sure!’ Pretty soon, they were sitting down. We were chatting about art, about anything else. It created a completely different experience.”

Art galleries can often feel intimidating, even unwelcoming. With its grand staircase and elegant moldings, Lévy Gorvy Dayan’s space exudes the air of an old institution. It’s definitely not the place for a casual chat. But that’s exactly why Mesler’s project works.

While the images and sculptures downstairs have sinister overtones — he says the first room was inspired by “those awkward childhood pool parties where the adults drank too much” — upstairs is filled with messages of healthy positivity and acceptance. Words like “Pray” and “Feel” are painted on a tie-dyed background. The office space functions similarly, symbolizing an artist finally feeling at peace and comfort in midlife.

Meisler’s extensive address book attracts a large number of visitors. On a mid-June morning, office visitors included a loquacious art consultant who used to work at Pace Wildenstein, an affable old couple from Florida who came to visit their granddaughter, art world gadfly Benjamin Godsir, and Meisler’s friend, the artist Rashid Johnson, who brought sushi. The gallery’s front desk clerk told me that sometimes 80 to 100 people pass through in a day.

If the Lévy Gorvy Dayan show was Joel Messler’s only event this summer, he would have hit 1,000. But that’s not the case. In late May, he threw out the first pitch at the MetLife Stadium in Queens as part of two “Artist Series” giveaways. That Saturday night, the first 15,000 fans in the stadium received a beach tote he designed. Later this month, behind the plate will be Rasheed Johnson.

What could be more exciting than throwing out the first pitch at a New York ball game? Take over Rockefeller Plaza. On Tuesday, a grand public installation transformed 30 Rock’s ice rink into a Mesler-designed “pool party.” Lévy Gorvy Dayan’s wavy dark blue wallpaper in the first room covered the floor, making the entire plaza look very cool from above and making your feet feel wet. His oversized beach ball sculpture weighed more than 500 pounds and was installed alongside giant versions of the words “love” and “joy” spelled out in balloon letters. All 193 flags around the plaza were replaced with rainbow-colored banners from Mesler’s mind. Giant pool foam bars really brought back the summer vibe.

On Tuesday morning, Phil Collins’ “Take Me Home” filled the air softly, even during the ribbon-cutting ceremony. A few songs later, it was Hall & Ozzy’s “I Can’t Go For That.” It was a true ’80s pool party.

Children decorated real beach balls on picnic benches, sat on pool foam sculptures, and posed for photos hanging from the letter “L” or hugging the letter “Y.” Pink and white beach balls floated in the fountain of the Prometheus statue. Art world heavyweights like Hank Willis Thomas, Rujeko Hockley, Sarah Harrison, Sheba Shabazz, Brett Gowey and Glory Cohen mingled with sunscreen-smeared French-Canadian tourists and would-be Instagram influencers who took dog photos. Meisler-designed gifts, including Martinique wallpaper, were sold in the gift shop. Later in the day, ice cream was served.

“Joel’s sense of humor is outstanding, but at the same time his pathos is outstanding,” Gervé told me, standing next to a pink and white beach ball emblazoned with the word “You.” “The public is as important to him as the collectors. How many artists today really touch the public in a way that’s not ironic or cynical or full of false sentiment? Joel puts his tremendous positivity out into the world, and it works because he’s an honest guy, a good guy.”

It seems that the good guys do sometimes win.