Interludes

VIEWPOINTS – Assessing a pair of dynamic installations: The artistry of happenstance in Céleste Boursier-Mougenot’s CLINAMEN and Troy Schumacher’s TRANSLATION

• By drediman
• June 15, 2026
• No Comments

This past week, I had the opportunity to take in a pair of unique installation-like experiences — each in drastically opposing scale — that paid careful attention to the artistry of happenstance. As per usual, read on for my thoughts on these two meditative creations.

CLINAMEN (V.11)
Park Avenue Armory
Through August 2

First up is Celeste Boursier-Mougenot’s immersive clinamen (V.11) (HIGHLY RECOMMENDED), a contemplative exercise in sonic happenstance that’s currently running over at Park Avenue Armory through August 2. Although the current display in the armory’s massive Wade Thompson Drill Hall isn’t the first time the artist has mounted the work, it is the largest version of its kind to date, wonderfully utilizing the ample space at his disposal to create a cathedral-like environment. In essence, the installation — a fascinating, elegantly succinct man-made microcosm of the natural world — is comprised of three circular pools of water, afloat on which are multitudes of ceramic bowls of different sizes and drift velocities that invariably bump into one another (e.g., emulating the random movements of atoms). Sonically, what emanates from this setup is a sort of spontaneous and randomly-generated wave of gentle chiming that’s arguably no less musical than a contemporary classical music score. In person, I was taken by the depth and three-dimensionality of the sound, which is simultaneously operatic and intimate (even personalized) given the excellent acoustics afforded by the drill hall. Both playful and solemn, clinamen is refreshingly accessible (yes, the installation is family-friendly) — a concept that’s amorphous enough to accommodate varying interpretations and levels of engagement. Additionally, although Boursier-Mougenot’s construct is relatively simple, the execution of it all is flawless and invites visitors to take their time basking in the calming and soothing environment (I myself spent over two hours in a state meditation, more time than I had originally allotted for it). It also invites us to both lean in and observe the concocted chaos that effectively composes/conducts the self-perpetuating symphony and reflect upon the overarching tapestry of the self-contained universe. Indeed, the whole experience is as unassuming and casual as it is transcendental, as if encouraging us to find irresistible wonder in everyday life and all things seemingly mundane — and even perhaps reconsider the potential contribution of A.I.

TRANSLATION
BalletCollective
Through June 28

Then there’s the return engagement of Troy Schumacher’s Translation (RECOMMENDED). The latest iteration of the piece can be found within a small, secluded room within The Culture Club (the sprawling former home of Punchdrunk’s long-running immersive hit Sleep No More; the well-received Off-Broadway run of the Heated Rivalry musical parody can also be found snugged in the same multi-floor complex), banking on the unusual model of an extended run in a limited capacity venue run rather than the typical inverse arrangement. Presented by Schumacher’s own company BalletCollective, the production is the very definition of a multimedia occurrence, juxtaposing live performances by six dancers against the shimmering and dynamic lights and projections by Sergio Mora-Diaz. None of the individual components of the experience are in and of themselves groundbreaking. Schumacher’s choreography predictably relies on geometry and fluidly meditative movements; only towards the conclusion of the hourlong experience does the pace of the steps pick up, seemingly as reality and dreamlike vistas clash more pointedly with each other (the very loose conceptual narrative is by Hugo, Nebula, and World Fantasy Award–winning writer Ken Liu). As for Mora-Diaz’s immersive light installation, what’s on display here is very much in the same vein as what can be found a few blocks away catering to tourists at Artechouse NYC. Relying on the coincidental synergies arising from the collision of silhouetted shapes (often improvised by the dancers), shimmering projections, and atmospheric music (by Julianna Barwick), the resulting parade of visual and aural tableaus is, suffice to say, more vibe than it is your traditional dance performance. In its forward-thinking positioning, Translation occasionally reminded of Wayne McGregor’s immersive, site-specific film On the Other Earth, which I caught in London last year, alongside the British choreographer’s accompanying Infinite Bodies exhibit at Somerset House. Here, the results are purely aesthetic and escapist as opposed to the deeply philosophical bent of McGregor’s musings. I wish it were a little bit more of both.