I saw the most remarkable show Sunday in Los Angeles: James Turrell's retrospective at LACMA. There has been a lot written about this, including a New York Times cover article the same day, but all I can write about is my own reaction. Entering St. Elmo's Breath I felt like I was walking into death. The room had no walls: the light was gray and suffused, with a shimmering white light at the end of the room. Figures disappeared into the light. I am, admittedly, emotionally vulnerable, thinking immediately of my mother and Dan, so I started weeping and couldn't stop. but what Turrell has done is truly visionary, a way to shake up our way of being in the world. Other installations open at the Guggenheimm in NYC next week. The Los Angeles show runs through April.

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