In search of James Turrell

Ten years ago, I was living in Tucson, Arizona, and read a review of an art exhibition in Scottsdale which sounded bizarre enough for my friend Jenna and me to make the 4 hour round trip drive to see it.


The exhibition was on James Turrell’s work, all dealing with light and manipulating your perceptions of space, color, light, and depth. The three works I remember include: a pod that museum visitors were slid inside, one by one, for a private 7-10 minute light show during which I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or not. A room with a large hole cut in the ceiling for the blue sky to show through, one of the works he calls skyspaces. And finally: a blue painting that was positively vibrating on the wall. As you got closer to it, you realized that you could put your hand inside it. Then you realized it was a room that you could step into. There you are, bathed in blue, standing in this blue room with no shadows, no discernible light source. You approach what might be the end and find out (from a museum guide later, since you can’t find a wall to touch) that it really goes on for 10 more feet or so, after a giant drop that you can’t see because you have no depth perception. You turn around to walk out of the room and see the wall of the room you started out in. Instead of the white walls which surrounded you then, from the vantage point of the blue room, this wall is now orange. Crazy.


From that moment on, I’ve been a James Turrell fan. When I read in the Wall Street Journal several years ago that the first museum dedicated to James Turrell had opened in a remote corner of Argentina, on an estate owned by Donald Hess of Hess Winery (no relation that I could find), I saved the article and figured I’d make a pilgrimage to it someday.


Once we knew we were coming to Peru for Sam’s sabbatical, we started making plans about other places we’d like to visit while in South America. Where was that James Turrell museum again, I wondered. I went through my files and found the article. Argentina! Same continent as Peru! We’ll be practically next door. It went on the list.


That was the easy part, deciding to go. Getting there was the hard part.


We flew from Lima to Santiago to Buenos Aires, took a detour to Iguazú Falls, then flew to Salta, near the Bolivian border.

Crossing the Andes

We took a bus from Salta south to Cafayate, 5 hours with a slow driver. The scenery slowly changed from farmland ringed by mountains to red rock country to vineyards. I thought we were in Utah for most of the drive… we even saw rock arches.

After a day riding bikes around to different wineries....

I walked this bike about as much as I rode it, seeing as we were on a rocky, uphill dirt road the whole way to Finca Las Nubes!

At Finca Las Nubes, part of the Jose Luis Mounier label... which we highly recommend

... we hired a driver, Federico (and his 4WD truck), for one day, January 25, to drive us from Cafayate to Bodega Colomé. The scenery was stunning.

One of the several rivers we crossed... without a bridge... in the truck. Thank goodness for 4WD.

On the way, we saw goats, cows, horses, and… parrots. “How is it that parrots are out here in the desert?” I asked Federico. “They like the grapes,” said Federico. Oh, of course. I wonder if they prefer malbec or torrontés, the two regional specialties.


Three hours and 15 minutes later, after needing to use the 4WD for nearly the entire trip, after Simon got carsick twice, we arrived at the Bodega. It was gorgeous.

Bodega Colomé

As we were a little early – the museum wouldn’t open for another hour or so – we rewarded ourselves with glasses of their excellent wine and ate lunch. Simon played on and around everything, happy to not be cooped up in the truck.

Side note: It is crazy how expensive the Bodega Colomé wine is in restaurants and in stores here yet how cheap it was at the winery. We drank excellent glasses of wine for just over $3 per glass… but I suppose when you factor in the cost to actually GET to the winery, it’s not such a cheap glass of wine anymore!


Children (and cameras) aren’t allowed in the museum, so Sam and I had to split up to see it. You also have to go with a guide. My group had 6 people. Sam went with two other people, who got engaged in the middle of the museum.

I was elated to see that the blue room was one of the works there. It was most definitely the highlight for me. I hate to say it, but I think the Scottsdale exhibit was better. Sam, not having seen that exhibit and only having seen one or two of James Turrell’s works (including the one at the IMA, which is OK), was amazed by the museum. It was nice to be able to compare notes on how bizarre and cool and mind-blowing James Turrell’s works are.


It was bittersweet to be there and realize that one of my life dreams was fulfilled… which meant it was over. The planning and execution were so exciting. I was sad to have that anticipation finished. “Go ahead, go back through it,” our guide said of one of the rooms. “You’ll never have the chance to see it again.” How sad and true.


Such luck exists in planning a trip like this. We couldn’t have gotten through the week before, Federico told us. The roads were washed out by the rain. I can only imagine how frustrated I would have felt to get to Argentina only to find that we couldn’t make the trek to the museum. I’m so thankful to have been able to see it.


All in all, the day was stunning. The scenery was amazing, museum unforgettable, food delicious, wine incredible.


In the lobby of the museum, there are sketches of a crater that James Turrell has been working on since the mid-1970s. I think it’s supposed to be a skyspace on a grand scale, the idea is that instead of sitting in a room with a hole cut out of the ceiling to view a tiny piece of the sky, you can sit at the bottom of a crater and see a giant opening framing the sky.


When I told Sam that I want to visit the crater next, he looked a little panicked. “Can we wait a couple of years before we make that trip?”


I laughed and said yes, I wanted to wait until Simon would be old enough to enjoy (and remember) the experience too. It won’t be as hard to make a pilgrimage to this site, thank goodness; it’s near Flagstaff, Arizona. I think Simon’s main concern will be how long we’ll have to be on 4WD roads and what their carsickness rating is!

With our fabulous driver, Federico