Ann Hamilton: "The Event of a Thread"

I came across an article in the NYTimes a few months ago about the opening of Ann Hamilton's instillation piece, "The Event of a Thread," at the Park Avenue Armory in NYC. This piece has remained in my imagination over the intervening months, awakening a deep desire to participate in similar spaces of invitation and play.

There is something about how people come into this space and lose their inhibitions about acting childlike in public. All ages and all manner folks find themselves swinging or lying under the moving curtain. People wander, talk, laugh, swing, take pictures, investigate, ponder, etc. There is something very communal about this piece, yet it is very much about inviting the individual to come play and explore as they will.

It is this intersection of the social and the individual in collaborative play that most intrigues me. I wonder what it would be like if the church were more like this. Could we do theology and worship from a space like this? I don't mean literally go to this instillation, but to have a social space like this that invites collaboration, exploration, and investigation. In the video below, Ann Hamilton describes the piece as a whole as having "a kind of intimacy in a large volumetric space." I like that.

In addition to the swings and the curtain (which let's be honest, as the curtain flows, it is so emblematic of the Holy Spirit blowing, moving, and remaining in the middle of the space), there are two tables on either end. One table contains two readers reciting from texts that change daily (there are also a lot of pigeons in cages on this table, not sure exactly why...). These voices can be hear through radios in paper bags that can be carried through the exhibit. At the table on the other side of the room sits a writer who is "penning letters to emotions and places far away." The letter writer has a mirror above her head through which she can observe what is happening in the room.

These two tables, and the persons who inhabit them, represent something of the content of the work as a whole, yet this content is not overwhelming but intimate. Hamilton describes the experience of listening to the voices on the radio as "being read to" (another joy that is often left behind in childhood). The role of the text in pulling us into the intimacy of the experience is a very fascinating yet divergent example of the role of preaching and teaching. The table of the letter writer reminds me of the vital role of one who observes, leads worship, and prays.

In all of this, the core action of wonder, amazement, and participation is never lost, regardless of how one moves in and through the room. The invitation of this work is to come, swing, wander, listen, hear, feel, and lie beneath the dynamic and multifaceted moving curtain at the center.

This is what I desire when I think of the community of the people of God. For what do you desire?

Here is a video of this amazing work found on ArtInfo: