Assignment

I'm participating in a faculty seminar that explores "the spirit life of art and ideas." In addition to a slate of thought-provoking readings, intriguing conversations, and a marvelous film on the works of artist Andy Goldsworthy, the dozen of us in the seminar have been given three assignments. The final assignment, to be completed by May 1, is both straightforward and challenging:

Create an art installation in a public space somewhere on campus (not your office). Do not seek permission; do not tell anyone what you are doing. Your installation should be inherently impermanent. Visit and document changes (and, if applicable, responses) to your installation over a few days or weeks.

Although I've narrowed down my ideas into a feasible project and chosen a site for my artwork, I've hesitated to undertake the work of collecting and arranging the materials I have in mind. Facing the elements of that "artist's block"– my tendencies to self-criticism and perfectionism, my ambivalence about maintaining anonymity while working in a place where I'm likely to be noticed– is surely a more monumental endeavor than the effort I'll invest in the installation itself. I suspect I'm not alone in the group, for I haven't noticed any other installations around campus, and there aren't many parts of it that I miss in my daily and weekly rounds.

Then, suddenly, I stumbled across one today. It wasn't there yesterday. I'm convinced it's someone's fulfillment of the assignment, but I'm not sure whose work it is. It's something I never would have imagined, and yet it's perfect for the space... a stairwell that gets reasonable use despite its remoteness. I won't say anything more, inviting you to contemplate this surprising creation just as I did... and to perhaps undertake the above assignment on your own.