The mobile of my childhood is 34 feet long and weighs 225 lbs. It spins irreverent between medieval tapestries and Saint-Gauden’s sculpture of Diana, itself originally conceived as a weathervane.
Wind. Movement. Change. Even indoors, Alexander Calder’s Ghost rings the changes each second.
To see it properly, you have to stand beneath it, then run up the stairs, then catch it from the balcony. Ghost requires you to change perspective, even as it changes. The Philadelphia Art Museum guards will not take kindly to your running, but do it anyway.
On its own, Ghost is engineering, and balance. It is wing and wind.
In its current context, Ghost is whimsy and defiance. It interacts, where other art is still.
I am grateful to know it. And grateful to see it from many perspectives – as a child, as an adult, and somewhere on the steps in between.