Spiders in The Shed

Particular Matter(s), which opens tomorrow and runs until April 17, consists of gallery displays on two levels of The Shed's Bloomberg Building in addition to the attention-getting Free the Air installation in the expansive McCourt space, the flexible indoor/outdoor space that is the signature element of the Diller Scofidio + Renfro-designed building. Particular Matter(s) is billed as the largest US exhibition of the works of the Argentina-born, Berlin-based artist "whose projects dialogue with forms of life and life-forming," according to The Shed, "rethinking dominant threads of knowledge in the Capitalocene era and recognizing how diverse modes of being engage a multiplicity of vibrations on the Web of Life."

Before venturing inside the spherical enclosure of Free the Air, visitors are encouraged to walk through the level two galleries, where sculptures Saraceno made with the collaboration of spiders are displayed in carefully lit vitrines suspended in a pitch black gallery. The artist is well known for the series of sculptures with such names as Webs of At-tent(s)ion and Hybrid Webs. Seeing them before immersing oneself inside Free the Air foregrounds Saraceno's arachnid interests as well as the ideas of interspecies interconnectedness that he explores in his art. Yet these two parts of the exhibition are more directly linked: the vibrations of these and other artworks, per The Shed, were recorded for the audio component of Free the Air.

On the same level is the entrance to Free the Air, which involves separate tickets for each of the sphere's lower and upper levels. Photos from my visit, below, were taken from the lower level, which is twelve feet above the floor of the McCourt and almost thirty feet below the people on the upper level. People wanting to capture their experience in photos or video need to select tickets for the lower level, where they can put their phones in lanyards around their necks. Otherwise all devices, keys, pocket change — everything loose — needs to be put in a locker, lest it fall through the wire mesh that comprises the two floors suspended within the sphere.

(Warning for people who want to venture into Free the Air without any preconceptions: spoilers are in this paragraph and the one following it.) After signing a waiver, listening to some words about the experience to come, and putting belongings in a locker — in an interstitial waiting room designed by New Affiliates, which advised on numerous aspects of the exhibition — I got in the line to walk up some stairs to the lower level. An airlock, straight out of a science fiction film, sat between the stairs and the sphere; it was here, waiting with nine other people for the pressure to equalize, that my heart pounded as I wondered what was on the other side of the door, what did I get myself in for? Any nervousness quickly abated when the door opened to a short tunnel leading to a hazy, milky white space — an ethereal, peaceful space where boundaries were hard to grasp and an oculus of light overhead provided some visual orientation. 

Traversing the walkway at the perimeter for a few moments, I was told the show would begin when everybody stepped onto the wire mesh. Show? There was more to this immersive experience? Lying with my back on the mesh to steady myself from the undulations caused by even the slightest step across the surface — I and others became like spiders — the lights then dimmed until white turned into black and that sense of calm was replaced by excitement. Although everybody else was still, the floor started to vibrate from the sounds coming out of the speakers attached to the mesh. It was hard to place the sounds, but it changed in direction, intensity and pitch over the course of what seemed like five or ten minutes. Just when I thought "this is definitely not an immersive experience for everyone," a woman called for help, saying she couldn't take it anymore and felt like she was going to faint (a Shed employee helped her sit down on the edge for the duration of the performance). Lights up at the end of the performance and a sense of normalcy returned, with people posing for photos on their way out.

An escalator ride up to level four leads to the last piece of Particular Matter(s), a display devoted to Saraceno's "Aerocene" community, an "open-source project," as described by The Shed, "devoted to interdisciplinary endeavors seeking to activate ideas toward post-fossil fuel life on Earth." I learned about his vision for the Aerocene in 2017, when Saraceno gave a TED talk on the subject. The idea of floating environments "powered" by the heat of the sun is intriguing but certainly very far-fetched — utopian art more suited to dreams than practical visions addressing the crises humanity faces. But coming after the sensorial experience of Free the Air, some visitors might actually be open to a balloon made from thousands of plastic bags being our future.