Anima, Chatham, New York, 2024

On the ridge where landscape meets sky, Anima stands—not as a fixed form, but as a shifting presence. Five distinct gallery spaces are connected, each with only one way in and out. Their proportions vary; some open to the landscape through windows, while others invite light from above through skylights. Clad in a monochromatic dark gray, these volumes sit quietly in the grassy landscape, their forms understated yet purposeful.

Above these galleries, a roof structure of thousands of stacked wooden blocks creates a delicate, filigree texture. Rising from 7 to 35 feet, the asymmetrical cone-like roof is hard to discern—gauze-like, changing from every angle. The light passing through it casts a diffuse shadow that softens the space below. From the bottom of the roof, the horizon is framed, revealing distant mountain ranges, reminding us of the vast landscape beyond.

The journey is solitary or shared in silence, yet within each space, you encounter a single work. Time slows down—undisturbed—until you choose to move on. Between spaces, brief pauses reveal glimpses of the landscape before you fade back into the pavilion’s quiet.