Two days ago, San Jose Museum of Contemporary Art. Yesterday, San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Today, the Cantor Art Center at Stanford University.
That’s some serious art binging! It will take weeks for me to sort my images and responses to the art I’ve seen on this trip.
Sequence is considered one of Richard Serra’s greatest achievements. Currently on loan, it will be permanently installed at the expanded San Francisco Museum of Modern Art in 2016.
The long curled ribbon of two-inch thick steel exudes such a immense presence! Amazingly, the rusty 200-ton hunk is sensuous, too. Two interlocking figure eights curl and wrap around each other, something you don’t see, so much as feel. Once you enter the sculpture through one of two openings at either end.
Richard Serra, a set on Flickr.
One step at a time, your path transitions from one widening—then narrowing—loop to another. Little of what’s behind or what’s ahead is revealed. At any given time, you see only the path at your feet and slotted opening to the sky.
I felt disoriented. The curved dead-ended passages conjured up a sense of The Void—confusing, unexplainable. I felt as though I was a mere speck of movement, imagining how it would feel to be trapped in a mobius strip.
Sequence speaks to me of time, the fluid lines symbolizing a continuum of infinity, the ephemerality of moments, seasons, centuries . . . as does Andy Goldsworthy’s work.