My husband and I went to the show on Sunday and were amazed, not so much at the sculptures as at the reactions of the people as they walked through the exhibit.

Children were having a ball. They were fascinated by the constantly changing view gained by moving from one sculpture to the next. The feeling was of moving into another room every time a corner was turned. It was a massive game of "peek-a-boo" that they discovered almost instinctively. Parents were either unnerved that they couldn't lay eyes on their progeny every second or joined in with gusto.

Some were uneasy. Many of the works, especially those rendered in lead, appear to by very precariously balanced. The obvious weight of each one appeared to lead some to visualize the fact that if one fell, it would be a disaster. This is also evident in the steel sculptures - the sense of motion can be slightly dizzying. At the entrance is a massive visual joke - a slab of steel suspended from the ceiling.

However, we spent an hour or so outdoors eating ice cream and watching people walk through that portion of the exhibit. Those that had the audio tour were marching like soldiers, dutifully examining what they were told to. Others moved slowly around, then through, mostly looking up, but periodically sideways, as though to assure themselves that the walls didn't go on forever.

The only fly in the ointment is that there are signs everywhere telling people not to touch anything, and large docents who reinforced the dictum vigorously. The pieces are very tactile. In the case of the works in steel, the process of decay makes them even more interesting - lines of rust and corrosion decorate all of them, and since many were meant to be displayed outdoors, the rule seems silly.

Great description of your experience, MessyONE, although I still wish I could see it for myself.

Children were having a ball. They were fascinated by the constantly changing view gained by moving from one sculpture to the next. The feeling was of moving into another room every time a corner was turned.

It sounds like there were more than one (inside? outside?) I often wonder with big sculptures if it makes a difference if a piece of sculpture is alone or with others. Curators are always talkng about how one piece "has a conversation" with another piece nearby. Did you hear (or see) any "conversations"?

Some were uneasy. Many of the works, especially those rendered in lead, appear to by very precariously balanced. The obvious weight of each one appeared to lead some to visualize the fact that if one fell, it would be a disaster.

A teacher said recently that Serra is very concerned about safety. Apparently a museum goer has never been hurt, but once, a man who was installing a piece got killed when the whole thing fell on top of him.

or art that becomes public, due to its outdoors placement or other highly visible location, is so often misunderstood by viewers who just don't 'get it' or who expect it to be more traditional, for some reason -- perhaps because they are more accustomed to large traditional figurative sculptures being placed outdoors?? Personally, I never saw a Serra that I didn't want to touch -- or a DiSuvero or Henry Moore, either. Some locations are more understanding and tolerant of the Urge to Touch sculpture (M.I.T. with its wonderful Moores, Denver Art Museum w. its bright red DiSuvero on a public plaza adjoining their library and beloved by all Denver city kids...), and some are less so, for ex., the

SMITHSONIAN!! Talk about large scary docents or in their case, museum guards. I will never visit that sculpture garden again, don't care whose works are on display. Talk about a hostile environment for museum visitors. Thanks for a very fun, upbeat post and recounting of your MOMA experience.

He'd have to be concerned about safety! LOL. Can you imagine what his insurance bill would be like?

MOMA handled the exhibit beautifully. There were four rooms indoors and one massive piece outside. The rooms were well laid out, and each piece related to the next in a sequence that was occasionally disturbing, but with a very clear sense of logic.

It's hard to describe. On entering the room, all you're conscious of is size. These things are massive and designed, in part, to make the viewer feel small. Stay for a moment though, and it starts to make sense.

There's a feeling of rightness to the arrangement, no matter how visually chaotic it seems on the surface. There are places where all you seem to see is a massive wall of rusted steel, but when a person appears, apparently from nowhere, you can see the spaces between the walls. It's as much about the negative space as the positive.

I wish I lived in New York, or at least had another few days to go see it again. While many people feel that Serra's work is monolithic and impersonal, when there are people there it becomes very intimate. Strangers smile at each other when they pop out from behind a wall.

Thanks...Funny you should mention Moore. As we were leaving, my husband was bemoaning the "don't touch" signs and reminded me that there is an extremely large Henry Moore bronze outside the Art Gallery of Ontario in Toronto. It's been there for as long as I can remember.

Far from being untouchable, the entire center of the piece is polished and shiny from generations of young children's backsides climbing up the outside and sliding out of the center.It's traditional for all kids to do this, it seems, and the only warning sign has to do with making sure they don't fall.

I think it's a perfect example of public art doing what it was meant to do. I think Mr. Moore would be happy about it.

must have been onboard with the program, because his sculptures seem to be 'climbable' and climbed UPON everywhere one goes. One of my favorite photos was taken years ago with a then-young (6 or 7 yr old) nephew on a rainy day in Cambridge, MA outside of MIT; my nephew was exploring the ins and out of the curvy, massive Moore while I was just sitting there, enjoying watching HIM enjoying art. Public Art is really its own separate and quite characteristic entity.

Btw, at the museum in Denver, years ago, we asked about the DiSuvero and how he feels about all the climbing 'thereon' and were told that he's all for it and loves the idea of children actively enjoying his creation. :-)

really puts the reader THERE. Very well-written piece of criticism--

evocative and descriptive -- thank you.

Just in case anyone is curious, this link: <link> shows the Richard Serra installation outside the modern in Fort Worth - one of his newer pieces. It's really beautiful - everyone seems to love it. And children play in it all the time.

We used to live in the mighty metropolis of Grapevine, Texas, just up the road from Fort Worth, and when that museum opened, everyone was leaping for joy. It's a terrific exhibition space and the building itself is part of the experience. I love that place. (The cafe is good, too. We often ate lunch there.)

When did the Serra piece go up? I was there about a month ago now and I can't believe I missed that.

It just illustrates my point, though. These works are meant to be outdoors in all weathers. The changing surface makes each one a part of the landscape wherever it's located. Each takes on specific characteristics based on the part of the country it's in, the weather, the prevailing winds, etc. A similar work in, say, the Northeast, would look entirely different over the course of time.