This past weekend, Jeff and I went with some friends to check out a new collection of location-specific art installations in a vacant meatpacking warehouse located at the southern end of the High Line.

Quite bizarre. We had to sign a wavier upon entering because the building is technically condemned. I was really creeped out by the dancer performing William Forsythe’s dance piece, who seemed a little irked when Jon started playing with all the pendula hanging from the ceiling. But Leandro Erlich’s illuminated doors were haunting in a good way.