To try and parse out the technical ways David Spriggs creates his installations would to sap the mystery and romance right out of them. Even though they are marvels of magical technological wonder.
Spriggs’ installations are ephemeral, atmospheric celebrations of movement and color. They’re large in both scale and scope and stun the viewer into long, quiet reveries of contemplation; the works are not aggressive in their size or stature. There’s a cosmic element to his work, too, that’s trippy (and that trippy-ness is only heightened by the unseen mechanics of the pieces).
In Holocene, 2011, Spriggs floats architectural, geometric rectangles at angles to create what looks like shards suspended mid-air. He places these shards at intervals in such a way that at one angle, they look like a tunnel of light you’re about to get sucked in to and then at another angle, they resemble pieces of cut paper suspended between plates of glass. As the viewer, you’re made to walk around the piece and consider it at every angle; it’s playful and engaging while remaining still cosmic and a bit overwhelming.