PRINT February 1993


It is astonishing that turning criminals into sailors used to be regarded as a form of punishment.

—Jean Genet, 1953

THERE ARE THREE SPACES: a dark space, a bright space, and then a darker space. Two domains and a portal. The first is the Dia building itself: the elevator or the stairs leads to the third floor, where stacks of bundled newspapers spill across a wall, sit beneath a closed door. An almost empty series of corners and floor; a place of refuse waiting to be carted away.

Then the bright space, the forest. Your body stands in a clearing. The sun could be pouring in—the heat is relentless, steamy. It seems to alter body temperature and disposition. Two rows of painted-bronze sinks, each recycling its own water supply, jut out of the woods painted on the walls. The water beats against the milky basins, implicating the body, which is reminded of its own functions of release: it’s

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