The space has been saturated with a fine mist that occasionally accumulates into faint, cloud-like formations along the walls, then disperses again. Overhead, the glass atrium of the Turbine Hall has disappeared and in its place is a reflection of the space below, created by a huge mirrored ceiling over the full length of the Hall. At the far end, butted up to the edge of the reflective ceiling, is a giant semi-circular translucent screen, 15m in diameter and backlit by 200 mono-frequency lamps. Its reflection in the mirror creates the illusion of a full, circular 'sun', thus linking the real space with the reflection.
Walking into the Hall, your eyes adjust to the dingy orange haze that pervades the huge space. On the day of my visit, it appeared I had walked onto the site of a recent chemical attack - bodies were scattered all over the floor, sitting, lying and rolling around, and all had taken on the same tones under the monochromatic lighting. All colours excluding orange and black were washed out by the strong sodium glow emanating from the acid 'sun' at the end of the hall (rather an ironic scene, given recent reports that Tate Modern staff claim that the constantly produced haze is making them physically ill).
The audience, rather than simply being observers, had become part of the art, watching themselves and others in the huge expanse of the mirrors above them.
Unusual Rigging rigged both the 35,000sq.ft mirrored surface and the 'sun' structure, led by John Roberts. The main challenge was the essential perfection of the mirrored finish - all the more difficult on such an enormous scale. With 300 mirror panels grouped together into 19 large (17m by 7m) sections, the desired effect was that of a completely level mirrored ceiling. After the ceiling was raised, some of the sections were subject to both vertical and lateral lifting movement: each group of panels, supplied by German fabricator Alluvial, had just two hanging points, and the effects of air movement and static electricity were two contributing factors to the movement of the sections. Consequently, Unusual spent the best part of four weeks recalibrating the panels in the air to produce the necessary effect.
Conditions for rigging the false ceiling were also less than ideal. The summer of 2003 will go down as one of the hottest in living memory, and during the installation period in September, the temperature was often around 28°C; add into the equation the glass roof of the Turbine Hall and a few thousand square feet of mirror and the result was that John Roberts and his team of riggers ending up resembling barbecued shish kebabs!
A vital part of the overall effect of the installation was the fog and mist, creating an eerie, operatic, almost Wagnerian atmosphere in the Turbine Hall. The acid yellow sun blasts out into the space of the huge apparently double-sized hall and the light is further scattered by the mist and smoke shifting and moving around the hall.
Eliasson spent nearly a year devising the Weather Project and tried many different types of fog, eventually settling for a solution of sugar in water to realize the desired effect. Stage Electrics' project manager Rob Woodley knew it was crucial to control the flow and density of the smoke: the effect needed to be evenly distributed and could therefore not appear from a single source
