The opening event seemed to call attention to the culture of art openings. The editions announce and celebrate the opening of this odd little space. A small party ensues for the grand opening, but has the appearance of a much larger event in contrast with the size of the space. On a dark little street, light pours out, with a small crowd. Under the feet of the people in the room is an impeccably shiny new polished concrete floor. Not unlike the lone leaf I witnessed falling on Smithson’s island, there is something slightly otherworldly about the way this little space asserts itself into the neighborhood. It’s delightfully out of place with its surroundings. Because of it’s very humble size, or lack of size, the Gagosian-like polished floor does not compete with the surrounding neighborhood. It’s like stumbling onto a little gem, or finding some little portal. You step into this little space and the white cube experience is right in your face, as your face is practically against the wall. Backing out of the space, and just walking a few steps down the street, you see the crowd, but not where they come from. Walking back towards the space, you see the white walls, the crowd inside, and the polished floor. There is something about this space that seems out of place somehow, in an intriguing and subtle way, that conjures a similar perceptive moment for me as Smithson’s Floating Island did.