If your haunting preferences run more to the unsettling than the terrifying, “Perpetual Inventory: A Ruminative Installation by Scott Kip,” is for you. The intricate construction consumes Arcadia University’s Spruance Gallery in Glenside, inviting visitors to traverse a perplexing path to view an arrangement of woodworker Scott Kip’s possessions.

An easily missed sign by the entrance reads “Upon entering this installation, guests will encounter changes in floor height, steep stair walls, and narrow passages.” All true. If it sounds like too much, take heart: an accessible route is available for the asking.

Corridors and mirrors

If you can, take the stairs into a space suffused with the fragrance of wood construction. (Kip repurposed material for the project from two local buildings, a cathedral and a defunct grocery store.) Consisting of an inner display encapsulated in a network of viewing corridors, “Perpetual Inventory" is an extension of previous work employing the artist’s belongings. Constructing it took Kip and a team of assistants all summer. Long in the planning, the project caps the Arcadia career of Richard Torchia, former director of exhibitions, now serving as guest curator. 

As your eyes adjust to the dim, unfinished space, you see…yourself, in a mirror, looking perplexed. Below that, a magnifying glass perched on a metal slide is begging to be touched. Move it. The mirror groans eerily and recedes, revealing what appears to be an attic, but a dreamy kind, with disconnected walls and floors that quit in midair. The mirror partially blocks the view, so you nose up to the window. A stack of moving boxes teeters, a cheese grater clings to a wall, a ceiling fan spins. There are things you can’t quite see, and things you don’t recognize. The attic is bright, but you’re in the dark.

Slide the magnifier farther. The mechanical music resumes, the mirror returns. Try again, and it recedes at a new angle, reflecting a blueprint, maybe a columned building. (Not quite: according to the inventory, which you can access before, during, or after visiting, it’s a cyanotype of the Wanamaker Grand Court Organ. Kip, a restoration woodworker, is technician for the instrument.)

Mysterious encounters

Move along a zig-zag hallway to see what appears to be a drawing of an owl’s eyes, staring intently. Actually, it’s a rubbing Kip made of “Étant Donné,” an enigmatic work by Marcel Duchamp. Whether you know that or not, the effect of coming upon it in a darkened passage is the same, transforming observers into the observed.

The passage narrows, bringing you to a worn roll top desk, and again, your perspective is off. It’s a child’s-eye view, level with the work surface, on which are scattered metal pieces, delicate tools, and books referencing the Willards, a family of clockmakers. It seems the craftsman has just stepped away.

Information is scarce as you proceed: no signs, exhibit tags, or a single arrow to guide steps. Gallery notes are available, but aren’t thrust into your hands. Before starting, consider how much information you want — whether, for example, you want to know Kip’s biographical details, or what the objects are. Perhaps you’ll wait, opting for a more impressionistic, mysterious encounter.

Find your way

With or without information, unnerving questions ricochet through even the most level head: “This feels intrusive. Have I missed a turn? How much farther? Is anyone watching me? Would anyone hear if I called for help?”

Take a breath, think logically. Spruance Gallery isn’t that large — 1,100 square feet. The exit can’t be far. Keep going. Then you come to a square cut in the floor, and a ladder going down. It looks precarious. Doubtfully, you descend to find a small, windowless room the size of a packing crate. You hesitate, seeing you have to bend at the waist to enter. What to do?

There are no windows in the crate-room, and only the opening you entered. Push gently on the walls. Surely there’s a secret release. No. Look up, into an air shaft telescoping to a small patch of daylight, three stories away. What now?

It isn’t an attic we enter in “Perpetual Inventory,” but a box of memories, the kind we all carry, the kind that make us who we are. The farther we go in Kip’s rumination, the more deeply we ruminate on things that are kept, what they mean, and what continues to elude us.

"Perpetual Inventory: A Ruminative Installation by Scott Kip” will be on display at Arcadia University through Dec. 15. Spruance Gallery is at 450 Easton Road in Glenside. For information, visit arcadia.edu/exhibitions, or call 215-572-231.

This article was originally published in the Broad Street Reivew