Booties donned, the viewer is first introduced to the infinity room through its adjacent anteroom. Covered entirely in glossy white paint, the anteroom draws the viewer toward the expanded dimensions and glowing light emanating from beyond its borders. While at first the anteroom seems merely a portal to be passed through, the meticulously delineated transition between spaces — denoted by polished walls that project into the soft matte white of the infinity room and a clean gray line etched into the floor at its lip — reveals that the anteroom is integral to the piece, lending a grounding sense of counterbalance and the solemnity of a threshold to be crossed.

Raised amidst the expansive horizon of the Arizona desert, Wheeler notes that, from an early age, the sky was everything. Throughout his career, the artist has sought to render fleeting natural phenomena into a palpable presence. "Wheeler's primary aim," notes critic and curator John Coplans, "is to reshape or change the spectator's perception of the seen world. In short, [his] medium is not light or new materials or technology, but perception." A pioneer of the Light and Space movement that flourished in Southern California in the 1960s and 1970s, Wheeler's monumental body of work ranges in medium from painting to installations, but is unified by a singular fixation on enabling people to perceive space and light in ways they normally cannot.

If the current exhibition is any indication, experiencing infinity is certainly worth the wait. Kimberlie Birks
Doug Wheeler
David Zwirner gallery
Chelsea, New York
Through February 25, 2012
In this amorphous space, light shifts imperceptibly in half hour loops, bathing every inch of one's visual field with the soft hues of dawn, the vibrating intensity of daylight, and finally, the earthy closeness of dusk. The atmosphere of the void is at once expansive and intimate
