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Here is silence and material and scale and movement.
Your antennae twitch, wiggle, and grow before a Serra.
One rests on the floor.
The other is attached to the ceiling, hovering over its partner like a section of the Cross.
You are invited to enter the work and stand in the area between the two masses.
All your psychophysical coordinates, your sense of orientation, are called into question immediately.
There are no special effects here.
From above,Sequence(2006) resembles a giant swirling confection from a bakery.
It consists of 12 enormous steel plates that collectively weigh 235 tons.
They saw it as a rusty insult.
I still see it in all its invisible glory when I pass the ugly plaza.
Stigma seemed to attach itself to Serra.
Serra has also left his masculine imprint on MoMA.
None of this changes that Serra was tremendous.
You see his work with your whole body.
