Within the dome of the observatory, I imagine myself as an astronomer looking for the first time upon a comet, tracking a planet’s orbit or measuring the distance from the earth to a newly discovered star.  I meditate on the moment of solitude that must have occurred, an observer face to face with a discovery, the light from the celestial phenomena or the atmospheric flames.  

 
Installed inside an old cistern in Joutsa, Finland, Observatorio is an observatory that functions only in the daytime.  From inside, the daylight infiltrates tiny pin pricks in the walls creating a magnificent “night” sky.  Above, in the dome, a vision of a planet or a star is projected.  It’s body transforms and flickers, as light swirls across it like alien atmospheric winds.  Throughout the space the groans of old machinery can be heard, as if the telescope is searching the heavens for more celestial visions.  Four paragraphs are written in chalk upon the walls of the cistern, coming in and out of focus from the light of the flashing projection.  The text hypothesizes an alternate theory of the big bang, and for all we know it could be occurring somewhere, at this moment, deep in space.