Richard Serra
April 11th, 2024 | BS | Culture
In our every day practice we talk about the feeling of space. The feeling is a result of a careful manipulation of volume, scale, material, light, texture, and color. We strive for an architectural simplicity that allows these spaces to exist in an intuitive and unadorned manner. While there are certainly other architects that I admire that are successful in creating spaces that are pure and serene rather than additive or busy, the most direct or illustrative examples come from sculpture and art. At the top of the endless list of those I have followed are Fred Sandback, Michael Heizer, James Turrell, and Richard Serra. So, when Richard Serra passed away a couple of weeks ago, I found myself revisiting memories his work that will continue to inspire.
Certainly a late-comer to the world of art, I first heard of Richard Serra during my time at the Virginia Tech College of Architecture, Arts and Design. Amidst the steam bending wood we did at the Masonic Amphitheater or in our introduction to experiential installations with the Ash Wall, Leo and I found Serra’s work particularly interesting and relevant as we began to test where art and architecture intersect. One of his first pieces I saw in person was Delineator at the MoMA. I remember being fascinated by how dynamic and heavy a space could feel with simply a floor plane and a ceiling plane. I spent two hours in that gallery studying the piece and continue to find myself wondering back to that day. Similar to the work of Sandback, Heizer, and Turrell, the implied space that Serra creates with simple forms and volumes becomes significantly more interesting than an enclosure. The experience is dynamic and exploratory rather than prescribed. It forces or allows its user to fill in the blank, or to be present in forming the complete space. I have been pursuing and striving for the creation of implied and experiential space since that day.
After this visit to Delineator, I began to follow Serra a bit more intently. From Intersection at Theaterplatz in Basel, Switzerland, to Wake at Olympic Sculpture Park in Seattle, I visited and studied his work as much as I was able. Being born and raised in Northern Virginia, and seemingly right down the road from Potomac, Maryland, Serra’s work at Glenstone became what I could revisit most frequently. Contour 290, Sylvester, and more recently Four Rounds: Equal Weight, Unequal Measure have almost become constants in my life when I return home from Jackson. These pieces become more interesting and dynamic with each visit. The changes in light throughout the day, weather, and seasons over the year would change the experience of each space and how each space interacted with the site. I have grown to know this work and will continue to visit it and continue to learn from it. In some respects, when an artist passes, their work become relics. As a design community, we are lucky to have these memories and examples of space left behind.