A quiet moment with Es Devlin’s installation “Library of Us” and the imprints of a community
Es Devlin, “Library Of Us”, Faena, Miami Beach. Miami Art Week 2025
The sunlight is dancing away as my feet sink into the warm and timid-yellow sand. From the distance, and between me and the overlapping flat, horizontal brushstrokes of sea and sky, the triangular shaped library rises powerful above water, yet delicately balanced, motionless on its circular base, three steps above the ground.
LED lights begin to activate the space within and around Es Devlin’s “Library Of Us”
The outer rings of Devlin’s large-scale, kinetic, sculpture are being transformed for a special celebration—unveiling another layer of an ingenious design, responsive to form and function. The cubic reading seats were replaced by chairs, and the table that held Devlin’s annotated books is now being set with wine glasses. At the center, over two-thousand books are quietly looking over the preparations—thoughts of brilliant minds, surely to have an opinion.
The last light of day brushes warmly against the colorful book covers, filtering through the spaces in between, as white blocks of light punctuate—in staccato—this rhythmic composition. The book pages have a soft glow, enduring exposure to the elements, unwavering holding on to their stories. This quiet moment—with the distant clinking of the crystal being set on the seemingly endless table—anticipates the crowd to come.
Es Devlin, “Library of Us”, Metamorphosis at dusk.
Long lines of light begin to stretch across the forms, as if waking from a long nap. A multitude of books, agreeing to disagree, point toward a universal direction. The library begins to revolve; the mirror on the vertical side turns, reflecting and greeting the city, the buildings, the sky, the sea, and the few of us gathered around.
The artist’s voice sets the pace of a calm heartbeat as we all breathe, inhaling the wisdom of many. I became a child again, listening to a beloved story. Illuminated words, phrases, scroll along the main surface of the piece on a long strip, underlining the row of books above and below. A different voice reminds me of the beauty of my mother language and how important it is to celebrate it openly. Then, without ceremony, two quiet pearls of water slip from my eyes, leaving tiny marks, an imprint in the sand.
“I was also reminded of my love of books, my love of libraries, and my love for all the friends I’ve made at the library. Lifelong friendships.
I was reminded that there is a super-power in holding a book, turning its pages, reading it from cover to end, and falling asleep with one on your chest. I was reminded of not taking books for granted.”
Es Devlin, “Library of Us”, Detail.
Es Devlin awoke my conscience—and the collective conscience—by creating “Library of Us,” a compass steered by the power of the words that influenced her, the wisdom of many. The written word in its many forms has been celebrated and shared in community—a community that had also left its imprints on the sand, traces of ephemeral encounters.
As I glanced back one more time, I felt as if this unified compass summoning universal forces, books, the environment, and people—had always been here, in this place. Perhaps it was buried and lost deep in the sand. Perhaps Es Devlin unearthed it for us to find◾
Es Devlin, “Library of Us”
Published December 10, 2025 by Women in the Arts, Inc.