You know exactly where to find Eliasson’s current exhibition at Tate Modern. You can’t miss the bright orange light on Level 2 of the Blavatnik Building.
His airy glass sculptures hang from the ceiling just outside the entrance to his exhibition, leaving those staring at them in awe.
Once inside the gallery the same people keep staring at all the shiny, simple, complex, unexpected, multidimensional creations on display.
And this short post is also about staring – this time at each other – and the genius behind that idea.
The second, quite spacious room offers a range of Olafur Eliasson’s creations: from a large moss-covered wall to a light projection in the shape of a window, constantly used by the gallery guests for those Instagram-worthy selfies.
In the same room there’s also a big glass sphere. It’s transparent and built into the wall. It attracts your attention as it’s not immediately obvious what it is and what – if anything- you can see through it.
And that’s where Eliasson’s genius becomes obvious. While people queue to peer through the sphere, they are completely oblivious to the fact they themselves are to become art.
Because on the other side of the wall – and the sphere – there are other visitors who laugh at the curious, distorted faces looking through the glass sphere. And maybe even taking pictures of them.