SPIN explores how the urban landscape both facilitates and disrupts our awareness of the moving human body through the medium of the revolving door. The revolving door was invented to control the internal environment of a building by preventing the loss of heat. Yet the interior of a revolving door is its own microenvironment in which one is momentarily "trapped" or suspended in between transparent sheets. Within this glass cocoon, one is forced to relinquish control for a few seconds and, guided by someone else's design, trust that the unnatural circular movement of the door is the best way to traverse the boundary. Through their circuitous movement, revolving doors also offer a hyperextension of the moment of transition: from exterior to interior, from one environment to another, and from the journey to the destination.

Despite this complex web of movement symbolism, most people move passively through the many revolving doors that pepper the urban landscape, with little awareness of their bodies. In SPIN, men and women move in an unconscious stream of humanity through a series of revolving doors while talking on cell phones, listening to music, and even eating lunch. Into this detached and dormant world SPIN interposes the nude figures of a man and woman spinning apart in a slow, deliberate dance. Their transparent nakedness shows the human body pared down to its most vulnerable state, while simultaneously commanding our attention. Nakedness is also an empowering symbol of transition, bringing to mind birth, death and sex. The superimposed image of the frog brings the natural world into this dance by formally paralleling the woman’s gestures, demonstrating that even the most seemingly “unnatural” movements are still connected to nature through the human body. SPIN ultimately seeks to awaken in the viewer an appreciation of the moving human body as a physical manifestation of the transitory period between birth and death, humanity and nature.