A mysterious joy

Some months ago, a beautiful sculpture appeared in Lincoln Park near the driving range.  From a certain angle, the sculpture, despite its size, appears to have very little volume.  Like the moon, it is nearly eclipsed, but by the view it frames.  All that’s left is a sliver of delicious color.

Move, and the raspberry color becomes a feast.  The shape and color of the sculpture complexify.  Like many good abstract sculptures, its genius lies its simplicity: it’s nothing but the slice of a huge round tube, laid on its side, painted one color on the inside and another on the outside.  The magic comes when the surfaces interact with the light, with the scenery, and, not least, with our eyes.  Sometimes, the circle looks faceted or a shape other than round.  The colors of the rim morph and recombine, too.

The thing has as many states as a haystack by Monet.

I don’t have the name of the sculpture or its maker.  The sculpture’s placement in the park is clearly temporary, so I urge you to get out and enjoy it before it really does vanish.