The Weather Experience

Someone has posted a comment asking what the weather thingy was in Tate Modern and why I thought it was holy.  The picture might help a bit. Tate Modern's main hall is cathedral size and of course, sits just opposite St Paul's Cathedral, connected by the new wonderful Millenium Bridge. Tate Modern is free to enter and full of people at all times. They come as pilgrims looking at colour and experiencing the spaces which themselves question what it is to be. St Paul's o­n the other hand has sold its soul and installed turnstiles, the better to charge the tourists or repel them from nice, neat services.

This installation is in the main hall. The light comes from a semi-circular disc of monochromatic yellow light. (Generated apparently by streetlights). The sun-disc is completed by being reflected in a mirror which extends at great height over the whole hall.  Clouds of mist are generated and hang in the air inevitably recalling incense.

People have been going to see/experience all this and lying down o­n the floor to watch themselves through the mist reflected in the high mirror up above them. The reflection can be seen at the top of the picture. A community of gentle movement evolves o­n the floor of this immense space. Individuals searching for themselves find o­ne another. The search for the immenseness of time and space reflects back o­n the people, producing an experience which is at o­nce fun and mystical. A community glimpsing itself through a common vicarious shared experience. The turbine hall of Tate Modern used to generate electricity. It now generates laughter and awe. As holy things do.