Cabin Upon A Hill
Jul 25, 2025 1:43 pm

Post by Amy Wang, Communication & Public Affairs Intern at the Trust for Governors Island.
From my vantage point, high up on Discovery Hill, the cabin appears secluded and private, its eggshell tip just peeking through the canopy of trees. The climb itself felt like a small revelation — tall grasses brushing against my legs, the path opening wider as the sky stretched above. The temperature shifted as I reached the top — hot and burning, the kind of sun that presses down, dry and constant.
But I think to myself, no worries. A rest stop—a cabin.
When I arrived, I looked around the shed, inspecting it for an entry but found none. I knocked, but there was no echo from the inside. It becomes clear, to my disappointment, that the cabin only appears like a sanctuary, but it isn’t a real home. Where there should be hollow space to house someone, there is solid fill instead, and whereas the windows should offer a glimpse in, they protrude out instead. The house is inverted, inside out.
Naturally, I turn my attention back to the outside without any option to go in. Into the dazzling harbor, the conspicuous harbor of the Statue of Liberty, the vastness of the city skyline from the highest peak of the Island, I realize that I didn’t lose anything but gained much. Turned out, perhaps loss and abundance were two sides of the same coin, and my reflection displaced my original disappointment. Underneath the backdrop of the steel and glass, I also realize that the city is never so far away, escape is never truly real, but that is actually okay. The promise of retreat conjured up by my own expectations finally breaks free and with that, apart. The cabin gradually feels more and more out of place now – uncanny.
Uncanny is exactly what artist Rachel Whiteread intended when she created the installation. By placing this picturesque concept on top of a hill, overlooking the harbor, but then denying entry into the house, she invites – or more forces– viewers to look outwards as a means of looking inwards at their own contradictions. She invites deeper introspection into the subtle, unconscious needs inhabiting our own negative spaces. What I discovered on my trek was not what I originally expected, but arguably even more meaningful; I was looking for space, but ended up finding perspective instead.
Walking down again, I suddenly remember a fact that I heard in my earlier days on the Island: That the Island has layers of natural and artificial, just like the cabin, a seemingly natural concept, amidst so much fruit shrubs and monarch butterflies ended up being a manmade entity, built unnaturally. Turns out, the land of the Island is partly made from the debris of the 4, 5, 6 subway lines and it was from this urban wreckage to green space, I had longed for a moment of “escape.”
But I have transcended beyond this boundary: Governors Island puts the human in nature and more than being just natural or artificial, it is art. The art in artificial is shaped, curated, intentional, and genuine. But most of all, it is welcoming.
My friends are at the bottom of the hill waiting for me. Well, how was it? They asked, but I replied, I didn’t find it. It would’ve been sweet, but…
What I found was not an escape, but a return; not solitude, but presence; not a place to hide, but a reason to come back down the hill— to you, to this, and to the art of being a part of something, and not apart from it.
Cabin is presented by Governors Island Arts, and is located on Discovery Hill. Click here to view all Governors Island Arts public artworks.
Governors Island Arts presents its program with support from Bloomberg Philanthropies, Charina Endowment Fund, Stardust Fund, Surgo Foundation US, Donald A. Pels Charitable Trust, the New York State Council on the Arts (NYSCA) with the support of the Office of the Governor and the New York State Legislature, Carrie Denning Jackson and Dan Jackson, the Ripple Foundation, the Howard Gilman Foundation, the Jerome L. Greene Foundation, and the Cowles Charitable Trust.