Days 53 and 54 - Sunday 12th and Monday 13th September - Salzburg Rest and the Skyspace

It was with eager anticipation that I approached Salzburg, despite the gruellling climbs to get here, as I knew for me, a treat was in store. The mountain side modern art gallery here is home to one of James Turrell´s Skyspace pieces, of which there are only a few in the world. Although there is one in Yorkshire in the UK, I have never really been in the vicinity of its remote forest location, so a quick stop off on the route of my European cycle excursion to see a piece I have been obsessed with for a number of years seemed to good to be true. For those not familiar with the work, the Skyspace series are basically composed of a constructed and perfected `viewing space` into which the visitor can enter and gaze up at a neatly cut aperture in the ceiling, which has been champfered so that there is no visible depth to the edge of the roof. White interior and blue (for arguments sake lets say the sky is blue) meet in a perfect line, so that the eye could not logically tell if the white was in the foreground or the blue. The longer the time you spend looking at the piece, the more the cones and rods of your eyeballs become saturated by the colours and the aperture begins to vibrate and shimmer, almost like a projection upon the ceiling rather then a window through it to the real world outside. A concise exercise in framing, Turrell encourages us to spend time observing both the gradually changing colour of the sky above which we share, and also observing the physiological reactions of our eyes. Seeing the way we see. As you can probably infer from my writing, its something I`ve spent a lot of time reading about, and even watched a video of late night tv documentary about it, which consisted purely of a silent shot of the aperture in a skyspace as it changed from day to night, in real time.
I digress, back to our tale. We have decided to take a day off in Salzburg, partly because we are about to cycle across the Alps, but also because I have to see this piece of work. The day dawns deliciously bright, the sky is azure and the Tauern river a peculiarly bright light turquoise. Its a perfect day for sitting and staring at the sky. I do some pre breakfast research on the internet and manage to deduce that it is at the Museum de Modern up on the mountainside, although it is not mentioned on the Musuems website. I view a fellow Turrell fans` photo of it on Flickr and learn that it is perhaps only open at twilight, which I find strange as it is supposed to be a piece that can be viewed at any time, in order to appreciate how different it is throughout the day. Anyroad, after a leisurely lunch, I pay my euros and ascend to the art gallery in a lazy lift. I have after all, cycled from Norway to see this piece, so I don`t feel too guilty about not climbing the hill today. I´ve already purchased my ticket for the museum at the bottom of the mountain and so head straight to front desk to ascertain the wherabouts of my desired art. The `information` assistant seems not to really know much about the skyspace, but points me out of the gallery into the adjoining park where we find cylindrical stone building, much to my joy. Gearing myself to head inside, I'm surprised to be met by a (slightly smeared) glass door, sans handle. There´s a sign on the door in German, from which I can deduce nothing, and so give the door a hopeful push. It is, of course, locked. I peer again at the Times New Roman script taped onto the door on A4 copier paper, and think that it is referring to a key, perhaps, in the cafe. Unsure by my random deciphering, we return to the information desk. I enquire as to the opening time of the skyspace to which she responds, `Oh, well, it´s only open for 15 minutes, when it gets dark, the time is different every day you know?´
´So it is opened after the gallery has shut for the day?` I respond
`Er, yes, maybe 6.30pm, I don´t know actually maybe 7.30?´
It´s not the most reassuring of guarantees that I will gain access today, but these vagaries are all I´ve got to cling to so I start making my way ever so slowly through all of the galleries in the Musuem, reading every label, watching every video piece through to its conclusion, I´m determined to stay until the close of the gallery and until twilight, when I plan to stand outside the skyspace and wait for the elusive keeper of the keys to let me at the art. By 4.30pm I´m exhausted and retire to the ridiculously overpriced cafe for a reviving coffee. Its nearly 4 pounds a pop, but the panorama of the city is worth the asking price.  Recalling the sign on the door from earlier, we decide to quiz the waiter, just in case he should know anything about the opening of the piece.
`Oh yes` he says and my eyes light up
`We have the key here, and the guest can borrow it to go inside`
Music to my ears!
`But the problem is, we´ve lost the key!`
I´m a little incredulous
`Only one key then?` I ask, not sure if he understands I´m not asking to use the toilet, but to see an internationally famous artwork
`No we had two, but then we lost one, and then we borrowed the final one to a guest and he went home with it in his trousers`
Im unsure how to respond, so he smiles and walks off jauntily. . I knew it was just too good to be true.