James Turrell turns on the light

His newest, an open-air pavilion at Pomona College, is made of light and space, which is emblematic of his art. The real work is what happens inside the viewer.

By David Pagel
21 Oct 02007 Los Angeles Times

FOR nearly 40 years, James Turrell has been making art out of little more than thin air — at least that’s how his indoor and outdoor installations feel when you give yourself over to their dazzling attractions. Think of his super-refined Minimalism as a spa for consciousness: an urbane oasis and thinking citizen’s entertainment center all rolled into one impeccably designed whole that is both elegant and spectacular.

Turrell’s newest project — and first public installation in Southern California — is what has come to be known as a “Skyspace,” a sophisticated architectural structure that doesn’t call attention to itself but humbly serves anyone who passes through it. Titled “Dividing the Light,” this open-air pavilion on the campus of his alma mater, Pomona College, goes out of its way to make whatever time you spend with it satisfying, whether you’re an enthusiastic pilgrim who has traveled far to experience Turrell’s work or a casual passerby who just happens upon it. The longer you linger, the more you experience.

During the day, its red granite benches, black granite floor, serene reflecting pool, sleek metal columns and gently curved canopy provide a relaxing escape from everyday busyness. The seemingly weightless steel canopy shades the comfortable seats and forms a frame around a big square of sky.

The magic happens at sunset, sunrise and on every hour throughout the night. Hidden LED lights illuminate the canopy from below. Turrell has programmed them to shift in intensity at twilight and dawn, depending on the season and time. This causes the sky that is visible through the nearly 16-foot-square opening to appear to be palpable — less like a distant dome sprinkled with stars and more like a velvety chunk of color close enough to reach out and touch. At night, the canopy is softly illuminated. Every hour, the lights flicker and shift, in what Turrell calls “the visual equivalent of church bells chiming.”

Every night is different, depending on the weather, the smog, your mood. What is constant is Turrell’s capacity to pull experiences of sensual refinement out of the heavens — to make down-to-earth, experience-it-for-yourself art out of light and space — and to get visitors not only interested in the subtleties of our perceptions but thrilled by the wonder of it all.