Is it me, or is there some quantum effect among art critics whereby their writings are so grossly affected by other critics as to nullify their observations? Spiritual optics a la NYT? Wow, I'll never look at a bunch of electrically excited rare gases the same way. If I want to find god there are two places I won't look, a church, and a Turrell show. When i went, the minions swayed by the press' effusions, deployed their plagiarized vocabularies (so peaceful, calm, contemplative blah blah blah). Meanwhile, anyone with a modicum of spatial sense ran from the visual equivalent of water boarding. Black light neon blue hung like a picture frame, heavy orchestration as to seating and suggested "contemplating" of the ginned up barroom lighting by museum handlers--that's what i took away.
Let's get real, if you want a twilight epiphany don't go to the artificial skylight warrens of MFAH or Rice, take a trip to the country on a cloudless day and watch the last gasp of green from the sun on the horizon and stay to count the stars.