A deconsecrated church in York, the setting for a modern art installation by Japanese born artist Keiko Mukaide. I stumbled across it and am so very glad I did. At first sight the installation resembles a rather small swimming pool placed oddly in the nave of a medieval church. There is a suspended column of glass rods at the top end, where you might expect a baptismal font. The structure isn't ancient Yorkshire stone, it is (probably, I am no expert) concrete. And despite how I may have described it, there is beauty and grace in it that draws me in. I notice the floating lights on the surface of the water and I am hooked - line and sinker.
So I walk to the opposite end from the glass column and see that the idea is to choose a smooth bowl and place a tealight candle in it. Then you find a coloured glass ring that sits around the candle. And you light the candle and take it to the pool of water and set it free. You watch, and then strange things happen.
You notice how beautifully the colour around your candle glows as your bowl floats on the dark water, with the hazy daylight streaming in from ancient glass windows.
You become anxious as you see that the bowl, with your light inside, doesn't steer a straight course. Other bowls have a head start somehow; they have caught the gentle current and there seems to be no stopping them.
Your bowl touches other bowls and is deflected from its course even more. That's wrong, quite at odds with how it is, or should be.
It moves backwards, for no reason, and seems to get stuck.
You know that patience is all; and yet you so want your bowl, and the light inside, to reach the other side. Soon.
You ask the assistant, who offered you the match to light the candle, do they all reach the other side?
Oh, yes, they do, she says, with the kindness of a wise stranger, they all do - eventually, and in their own good time.
You decide, all of a sudden, to let go of the outcome. It is all happening as it should. You could step in and pick your bowl up and take it to the other side with actual bodily force but where would be the magic in that? You know that isn't the right thing to do. You have set the thing off. You have done your bit.
And just then, at this most mystical moment of your day, your mobile phone rings. It's a client, confriming an important meeting. You can't not take it, Bowl Anxiety notwithstanding. And the church is deconsecrated, so the kindly assistant smiles and waves you to go ahead. You turn, you deal with the moment.
And then you turn back.
Your bowl has sailed into the mid-distance. The light is burning even more brightly and there is an energy and force in it that wasn't there the whole time you were anxiously breathing your wishes and hopes and, yes, your anxieties onto it.
It is more than halfway there now. You don't need to know the outcome now. It is a happy bowl exactly where it is, carrying its shining candle light. There is nothing wrong with the place it is in. And the other side is within reach, if it chooses to go there. Chances are it will.
You leave this place of grace and beauty and get on with your day.
It is a better day for it all.
Wonderful stuff. Too often we're so busy trying to get somewhere that we forget to appreciate and accept where we are now. We all need a reminder of that now and then. Thanks for reminding me!
I'll definitely pass this on to my own blog readers and remind them too.
Posted by: Andrew Leigh | June 12, 2007 at 10:03 AM
Instant Calmer. :o)
Sundown
Posted by: Tim Sundown | June 12, 2007 at 04:22 PM