Serra's most recent work both opens new doors and closes old ones. Aptly titled, Rolled and Forged, the exhibition leaves Serra's trademark style of curves and ellipses behind, opting for an exploration of weight, mass and masculinity. By employing testosterone-like qualities of intimidation reflected in both their mass and size, these pieces become weighed down as much by their constituent parts as they are rooted in the physicality of the art object. As opposed to defying the laws of gravity, (as is characteristic of Serra's older work) these sculptural works embrace that force, prompting the viewer to speculate his or her insignificance in comparison to the cumbrous objects.

Despite their dense exteriors however, there are still metaphysical hints to be found in these massive weights of steel. Textural quality is integral to the look and feel of the pieces - each resembling a block of molten metal that has been left to the elements. The immense sculptures reflect a painterly quality in their oxidized surfaces of rust, gray and violet hues, not unlike the Abstract Expressionist work of the 1950's from whence Serra came. Yet, in Rolled and Forged, the paint of Abstract Expressionism has been replaced by the contemporary residue of the industrial revolution: rust and steel. It is here one encounters the dichotomy of Serra's new work. On the one hand, the sculptures look as though they have always been, that they were created for this space; they imply permanence. Yet on September 23rd, the exhibit will close, the work will be removed and another show will fill the gallery. This begets the question, "where will the work go?"

This question is no accident. Rather, it extends directly from the intentionally contemplative component of Serra's work, mirroring the experience of the viewer in relation to the constantly changing landscape posited by moving through the artist's sculptural installations. Are these pieces to act as pathways to something beyond the confines of the walls or does the end simply exist at the edge of each sculpture? Elevations and Repetitions, for example, consists of 16 rows of steel of varying height, positioned diagonally and spanning the length of one of the larger galleries. Due to the height of Serra's slabs, passage through the maze becomes disorienting. Yet the viewer is aware that the entrance of the gallery affords them a way out of the mirage. The brilliance of Serra's work, therefore, lies in its ability to transform the spectator's thoughts, fears and beliefs about one's place in the world within the confines and safety of their known reality.

Perhaps these newest works are merely what they suggest - slabs of steel, Rolled and Forged - a simple exercise in weight, matter and masculinity. Or maybe they are meant to be something greater. As these objects make their stamp on the space of the gallery, they act as a commentary on the imprint our weight makes on our environment. The passage through the maze becomes as integral an act to experiencing the work as our perception of the sculptures themselves. For this reason, these pieces are enduring; if not in the void of the gallery space, then in the mind of the viewer who has digested the sculptures' soluble facets.