Snow and Shadow

Today was the first snowstorm of 2012. It was beautiful and light and made for a silent, serene morning, except for that sharp scraping of shovels.

Walking in the morning, my wife, son, and I passed the old tobacco warehouse in Dumbo. I saw the building very differently than I ever had, as the snow had erased the concrete floor slab. The shell apears as the four articulated walls almost floating in space.

 

On the windward side, by the river, the snow was missing as if a shadow of (or light passing through) the arched openings. The wind had blown away this area of snow. The composition was a serendipitous inversion of mass and light.

 

A couple of hours later we stepped from the wet white snow into the dry infinity cyc of Doug Wheeler's room at Zwirner. This was another kind of whiteout. Floaters danced in our eyes (why does that happen?). If you go, try walking very slowly toward the wall. I wish it were bigger -- it seemed constrained after the expansive tobacco warehouse -- but the precision of the space and lighting that cycles over the course of the half hour makes a memorable experience.