Comments on: More Fast Talk: With Richard Serra http://lookingaround.blogs.time.com/2007/05/24/more_fast_talk_with_richard_se/ Reflections on art and architecture by TIME critic Richard Lacayo. Tue, 08 Dec 2009 15:49:09 +0000 http://wordpress.com/ hourly 1 By: Eric Levin http://lookingaround.blogs.time.com/2007/05/24/more_fast_talk_with_richard_se/comment-page-1/#comment-68 Eric Levin Wed, 30 May 2007 04:53:46 +0000 http://lookingaround.blogs.time.com/2007/05/24/more_fast_talk_with_richard_se/#comment-68 I used to see Tilted Arc regularly when driving into the city through the Holland Tunnel. The tunnel terminus took you counterclockwise around the plaza where it stood, so you got an almost 360 degree view of it if you went all the way around the circle. At first I thought it was a piece of steel that would be used to build something. When that didn't happen, I thought it might be a gigantic piece of scrap metal that the city didn't know what to do with and had parked in that sooty, traffic-choked spot which no pedestrian ever set foot in, as far as I could tell. (I was getting warmer.) I grew to hate the thing for the way it blocked sight lines as you were trying to gauge traffic on the other side of the plaza. I grew to hate its obstinate presence, its impenetrable immensity, its brute and seemingly pointless bisection of a rare bit of open space. And that was before I learned it was a piece of sculpture. Then I started to dislike not only it but its maker and whoever decided to put it there. I might have grown to like it, or at least respect it, if I had bothered to park the car and walk up to it. But in New York that is no small bother, and I was always on my way to something that seemed more pressing at the time. One thing is for sure: the worst way to see a Richard Serra is to drive around it at 35 mph in heavy traffic. In those circumstances, give me Admiral Nelson with a pigeon on his head. I used to see Tilted Arc regularly when driving into the city through the Holland Tunnel. The tunnel terminus took you counterclockwise around the plaza where it stood, so you got an almost 360 degree view of it if you went all the way around the circle. At first I thought it was a piece of steel that would be used to build something. When that didn't happen, I thought it might be a gigantic piece of scrap metal that the city didn't know what to do with and had parked in that sooty, traffic-choked spot which no pedestrian ever set foot in, as far as I could tell. (I was getting warmer.)

I grew to hate the thing for the way it blocked sight lines as you were trying to gauge traffic on the other side of the plaza. I grew to hate its obstinate presence, its impenetrable immensity, its brute and seemingly pointless bisection of a rare bit of open space.

And that was before I learned it was a piece of sculpture. Then I started to dislike not only it but its maker and whoever decided to put it there.

I might have grown to like it, or at least respect it, if I had bothered to park the car and walk up to it. But in New York that is no small bother, and I was always on my way to something that seemed more pressing at the time.

One thing is for sure: the worst way to see a Richard Serra is to drive around it at 35 mph in heavy traffic. In those circumstances, give me Admiral Nelson with a pigeon on his head.

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