Excerpt from

Look Both Ways, Janus: Itís Your Month, and Things Are Looking Up

by Paula Deitz

The New York Times


Early Saturday evenings is a seductive time in almost any city in the world, as people rush about gathering provisions and meeting friends; and so, after a recent Saturday opening at a SoHo gallery, I began walking slowly up Broadway to merge with the crowd and enjoy the sights and sounds and the glitter of colored lights reflected in the wet streets.

When I got to 10th Street, my spirit of adventure was rewarded by a series of sculptures by Clyde Lynds, called “Black Ice,” in Broadway Windows. (They came down this week, but 10 or 12 of the works will be shown at the O K Harris Gallery in SoHo beginning May 5.) I had seen Mr. Lynds’s remarkable sculptures of fiber-optic lights embedded in reinforced concrete and stainless steel on other walks, specifically his “America Song,” a great feathered wing at the entrance to the Federal Office Building on Foley Square.

But the five on view in the windows of

this corner storefront captured the spirit of winter even as they appeared to be chunky meteorites that had collected swirls of stars when they fell from outer space. The tiny pinpoints of light on the surface gradually changed in color and configuration into patterns that are stunning in their variety, sometimes weblike or leaflike but always suggestive of glimmering starlight.

I was not surprised when I found out from the artist that he was inspired by a winter walk on a lake that had frozen quickly into black ice, with irregular planes of crystallized shapes that sparkled in the sunlight as he moved briskly along. “The sculptures provided the perfect form to explore this natural phenomenon through optics and change,” he said. On a more massive scale, one can have a similar experience driving over the Brooklyn Bridge at night on the way home from the Brooklyn Academy of Music with the lights of downtown massed against the dark sky and reflected in the river.



Last Updated: March 18, 2006