As the neon pulse of Miami Art Week 2025 vibrated through the city, British artist and set designer Es Devlin offered a rhythmic, literary counterpoint on the sands of Faena Beach. Unveiled to mark the 10th anniversary of Faena Art, “Library of Us” is a monumental, 50-foot-wide kinetic sculpture that transforms the act of reading into a public ritual. A triangular wedge of a bookshelf, housing 2,500 titles that have shaped Devlin’s own philosophy, the installation rotates slowly within a circular reflecting pool. By day, it is a towering architectural compass against the Atlantic; by night, it is a glowing beacon of light and LED-scrolling text. In a week often defined by the high-speed commerce of the art market, Devlin has created a “temporary society” of readers, inviting the world to sit, turn, and see the horizon—and each other—through the lens of shared knowledge.
A Kinetic Compass: The Architecture of Encounter
The “Library of Us” is designed as a massive, rotating triangular volume, nearly 20 feet tall, set atop a metallic plinth. This structure does not just hold books; it reorganizes time and perspective. Rotating once every ten minutes, the installation features a two-ring circular reading table at its base. The outer ring remains static, while the inner ring revolves in sync with the bookshelf. This mechanical choreography forces a constant shift in proximity between strangers, turning the solitary act of reading into a series of silent, social encounters.
Devlin describes the work as a “compass of the mind,” a phrase borrowed from novelist Umberto Eco. As the library turns, the viewer’s gaze is directed toward different global horizons—south toward the Americas, north across the continent, and east toward Europe and Africa. This motion reflects Miami’s status as a cultural crossroads, where languages and histories intersect. By placing the library at the ocean’s edge, Devlin also underscores the “environmental precarity” of our cultural record, positioning the paper volumes just feet away from rising tides.
The Sound of Text: A Multi-Sensory Archive
The installation is far from a silent monument. Embedded within one of the rotating shelves is a 34-foot-long LED subtitle screen that streams fragments of text drawn from the 2,500 titles on display. These “luminous whispers” are accompanied by a polyphonic audio score featuring 250 excerpts read by Devlin herself in English, Spanish, and Creole. The soundscape, composed in collaboration with the British ensemble Polyphonia, creates an immersive atmospheric field that blends with the sound of the Atlantic waves.
Visitors are encouraged to engage with the physical volumes, many of which are personally annotated by Devlin with scrawled margin notes. These books—ranging from the works of James Baldwin and Jorge Luis Borges to titles currently banned in certain Florida schools—serve as “mirrors of human connection.” The inclusion of marginalized or contested voices is a deliberate act of “social choreography,” intended to show that thousands of differing points of view can exist together in a single, revolving structure without contradiction.
Beyond the Beach: The Cathedral and the Project Room
While the beach installation is the public heart of the project, Devlin’s “Library of Us” extends into the interior spaces of the Faena District. Inside the Faena Cathedral, the artist created a “Reading Room” featuring a site-specific bench inscribed with phrases contributed by the hotel’s staff. This indoor sanctuary provides a quiet, static alternative to the kinetic energy of the beachfront, allowing for deeper focus on the literary fragments curated for the week.
Additionally, the Faena Project Room hosted “Tracing Time,” an exhibition of Devlin’s drawings and paintings on glass, paper, and television screens. These works offer a look into the artist’s creative process, showcasing how her monumental stage designs—often created for global icons like Beyoncé or the Super Bowl—evolve from intimate sketches and philosophical inquiries. Together, these three locations transform the Faena District into a comprehensive “living archive” of Devlin’s career and intellectual influences.
The Alchemical Goal: From Spectacle to Community
“Library of Us” builds upon Devlin’s previous “Library of Light,” which premiered at Milan’s Pinacoteca di Brera earlier in 2025. However, the Miami edition is more refined, focusing on the specific “melting pot” identity of the city. By creating a space that functions simultaneously as a sculpture, a library, and an arena for collective listening, Devlin challenges the traditional “exclusivity” of Miami Art Week. The installation is free and open to the public, acting as a gift of “quiet contemplation” amidst the fairground chaos.
Throughout the week, the site hosted a rigorous program of talks, performances, and communal rituals. These activations ensured that the installation remained a “dynamic community of books” rather than a static display. For Devlin, the success of the project is measured not by the height of the sculpture, but by the encounters it facilitates—the moments when two strangers, revolving on the same inner ring, look up from a book and see one another.
A Legacy of Generosity: The Final Chapter
When Miami Art Week concludes and the kinetic structure is dismantled, the “Library of Us” will continue its journey through the community. In partnership with Penguin Random House, all 2,500 books from the installation will be donated to local Miami public libraries, schools, and community organizations. This final act of distribution ensures that the “temporary society” formed on Faena Beach leaves a permanent mark on the city’s educational landscape.
As the books move from the mirrored pool to the shelves of local students, Devlin’s message of “collective resilience” remains. The installation proves that even in an era of digital dominance and environmental uncertainty, the physical book remains a powerful tool for building new worlds. In the vast, shifting sands of Miami, the “Library of Us” was a rare anchor—a revolving reminder that our shared history is the only compass we truly have.
