Although I’ve always somehow managed to miss the Lincoln Center Festival events, this year The Angel Project pulled me in. I’m very interested in site-specific work, and what could be better than a piece that combined many of my favorite things: art installation, interactive theatre, scavenger hunt, walking tour, and New York City.

When I started my journey, I was rather nervous. I’d heard that each site was crammed with hidden treasures - what if I missed something significant and it wrecked my understanding of the work? The Angel Project also stressed that the experience should be silent and solitary - how could I avoid running into other visitors? (I’m notorious for my quick pace and had joked that I could get through the tour in an hour.) I approached the first few sites with timidity. I worried about being watched, about nosing into drawers and cabinets that may have been off-limits, about Doing The Tour Correctly. I tried to find meaning in everything I saw - I cooked up a narrative about the every day life of angels (this is where they sleep, the locker room where they prepare for the day, the paperwork that they file for their charges) but after 40 minutes, the need to fit it all into explicable terms suddenly melted away.

I think it happened when I found my first angel. Up to that point, I had only been wandering through enigmatic environments, which were gorgeous but essentially just variations on the typical art installation. However, the discovery of an angel nun on the corner of West 44th Street completely disarmed me. These sets weren’t empty! I began noticing angels everywhere (or were they just the usual Times Square eccentrics?). Why was everyone on 42nd Street wearing a crucifix? Art was now life, life was now art, and I was overwhelmed. I spent the rest of the journey in a state of wonder.

I felt like I had joined a cult. I couldn’t stop talking about the experience. I forced friends to buy tickets, sometimes even subsidizing the cost when they couldn’t afford the $90 price. I work in Times Square, so I would occasionally stroll along the tour path to see how others were reacting to it. (Angel Project visitors were easily identified by their guidebooks and meditative expressions.) It’s been interesting listening to everyone's reactions. The silence and solitude prompt introspection, and an individual’s interpretation ultimately becomes a self-portrait. While they all agree that it's a beautiful journey, I’ve noticed that the level of visceral response tends to vary depending on each person's degree of cynicism. One friend described it as an uplifting mini-spiritual retreat; another said that it made her depressed about her purpose in life. Another person said that the personal synchronicity moved her because it suddenly brought new meaning to her past memories of Times Square.

I don’t consider myself to be a very spiritual person, but the experience certainly refreshed my soul. Not just from all the beauty that I encountered (I could’ve spent days in the room with lilies) but also through the way The Angel Project returned magic and hope to my world. The grime of Times Square became extraordinary, and pure hearts could be sensed within the weary crowds.

Lily Hung, July 29, 2003