Only two weeks remain to catch a rare glimpse of one of the strangest, and most satisfying, art installations of the past 50 years. Regrettably, it is not easy to visit Donna Dennis’s Deep Station (1981–85) right now: Until August 15, it’s in an old barn on the Ranch, a space run by dealer Max Levai on the far end of Long Island, in Montauk, New York. But if you get there, you will be glad you made the effort.
With art this potent, it seems improper to spoil a first impression, so let’s be brief. Walking from the open farmland into the structure, you find a scaled-down subway station that Dennis constructed from wood, Masonite, paint, glass, metal, and plastic. It has grand arched ceilings and glowing lights. Two tracks merge into one, and then stop—you’re at the end of the line. No one is around. A clock hangs on the wall of a control room of some sort, with an office above it that is too high up to peer inside. Every few minutes, the sound of a train plays through unseen speakers.
—Andrew Russeth