Architects of Air came to Austin! & I was unable to view it, a point of contention that will induce a frown when mentioned. However, Barbara Lundquist, a friend and fellow art historian, was able to go and kindly offered to write about her experience for us:
I was lucky enough to see Mirazozo during Architects of Air’s brief exhibition at the Long Center, and then I was silly enough to misplace my camera for a week. Now that I’ve gotten it back, I am finally able to share my experience with the help of visual aids.
First off, Mirazozo is an inflatable sculpture called a luminarium. It is made of carefully cut and spliced plastic sheets, air, and light. Opaque and translucent sections of plastic alternate, controlling the amount of sunlight filtering through the red, blue, and green sections, and creating beautiful glowing patterns on the walls and ceilings.
(with flash)
(without flash)
I visited Mirazozo in late afternoon, with strong slanting rays of sunlight hitting the western walls of the sculpture. I was actually able to follow the path of the setting sun through the colored plastic. On the eastern walls of the sculpture, the colors were mixing brilliantly. Every surface was shining.
With my own eyes, I could never make out all the distinct colors captured by cameras. Perhaps this is because the light is constantly shifting, and the plastic walls are never still, even for an instant. Perhaps it is simply the way the camera works - I am by no means an expert on photography.
The layout of Mirazozo is basically a diamond surrounding a large multicolored center dome. There is a smaller dome of green, red, or blue at each of the first three points. As you wander through the paths connecting these domes, there are small alcoves or pods off to the sides where you can sit down and relax, or people-watch like I did.
The point farthest from the entrance is a sculpture called the Tree. It has a trunk of green plastic rising up from the center of the floor toward the sky, and branches reaching out to the walls. The red and blue light coming from the walls reflects off the opaque sections of the branches, perfectly juxtaposing the different qualities of light within the sculpture.
It took me about 15 minutes to reach the tree, not because the sculpture is large, but because I was moving very slowly, walking each path forwards and then backwards, making complete circles from each corner dome to the center dome, and then reversing them. I was mesmerized by the shadows of clover leaves playing across the base of a pod, and by tiny patched holes where a bright point of light would shoot through. Seeing children throwing themselves against the walls and sliding down, I couldn’t help wondering how much it would take for the plastic to rip and send the whole thing deflating onto our heads.
I was part of the last group admitted into the luminarium, and it was quite crowded, a little noisy, and occasionally smelly. Children were running and shouting, couples were snuggling in pods, photographers were sprawled on the floor - contorting themselves to get the perfect shot. I saw one man moving from dome to dome to add the music of his singing bowls to the ambient music by David Bickley. I will admit, the first time I saw him I naively thought he was about to have his supper.
My absolutely ideal way to experience a luminarium would be as a place to gather with my friends, one of whom described it as “a moon bounce for adults, without the bounce, yet with all the otherworldliness.” I need to gather some materials and try my hand at crafting a small backyard dome just for this purpose.
For more photos and details about Mirazozo and Architects of Air check out:
http://www.architects-of-air.com/luminaria/mirazozo.html
The rest of my photos are here.