THE GRANDEUR OF THE UNIVERSE AND INTIMATE SPACES

There is an intriguing exhibition under construction by Situ Studio at the Brooklyn Museum, which to me, feels like a deeply religious undertaking. It is entitled reOrder. The Great Hall in the museum will be transformed by the exhibit. On the blog Hyperallergic, Kyle Chayka writes,

“Designed by McKim, Mead & White, the late 19th century structure is a dazzling example of Beaux-Arts architecture divided by a 4 by 4 grid of large central columns. Now, the hall will be colonized by 16 new columns designed and fabricated by Situ Studio. Built from bent steel tubing and plywood rings, the basic structures have fabric draped and stretched over their architectural bones. The studio confronted the massive space with a sense of artistic play. They worked to introduce “another scale to this space,” Samuels says, “The profile of the columns create more intimate spaces within the original.”

Why does this strike me as an expression of a religious sensibility?

One of the great aims of religious life is to somehow, shrink the massiveness of the universe into spaces in which we feel intimate connections. Part of what shakes us when we are out hiking or experiencing the grandeur of the world is that we are so small, so insignificant. It is reminiscent of the moment the spies scout out the Promised Land and report back to the Israelites in the Book of Numbers. They say,

וְשָׁם רָאִינוּ אֶת הַנְּפִילִים בְּנֵי עֲנָק מִן הַנְּפִלִים וַנְּהִי בְעֵינֵינוּ כַּחֲגָבִים וְכֵן הָיִינוּ בְּעֵינֵיהֶם:

And there we saw the Nephilim (the sons of Anak, who come from the Nephilim), and we seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them.”

In this moment of promise and hope, everything appeared overwhelming; they felt insignificant. The spies were terrified by the promise of sovereignty and responsibility that was at their fingertips. The world is always much bigger when you must take responsibility for it. The universe is grand, and when we become aware of just how massive it is, we confront how inconsequential we are to it.

So we work to build spaces of intimacy. Places in which we can affirm the radical idea that despite our insignificance to the universe, we matter deeply. Our presence makes an imprint on the lives of our loved ones and our eventual absence will leave them somehow incomplete. Without building spaces for intimate connection we will be swallowed up by the universe. This is what we try to do in synagogue communities every day. Whether we succeed or not matters.

The exhibit opens in March. I would love to hear your thoughts if you make there.