PHOTOS: ‘Infinite Time,’ Watermill Center Summer Festival 2026

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PHOTOS: ‘Infinite Time,’ Watermill Center Summer Festival 2026

Julie Shanahan. Carl Timpone/BFA.com

Last weekend, the Watermill Center’s annual Summer Festival, ‘Infinite Time,’ presented by Van Cleef & Arpels, unfolded over two days, drawing more than a thousand well-heeled guests to the 10 acres of Watermill, Long Island. But this year’s festival was unlike any other. It was the first Summer Festival since its founder, the indomitable Robert Wilson, died in 2025. How would this surreal, otherworldly festival go without his direction and a moment of silence before the annual summer dinner for which he is known?

There was little the famous Robert Wilson did not do. An avant-garde director, playwright, choreographer, painter, set and lighting designer, sculptor, painter and video and sound artist, he collaborated with Philip Glass on the famous opera. Einstein on the beachwhich nearly overwhelmed him. Over the decades, he has worked with the likes of Tom Waits, Laurie Anderson, Marina Abramović and Lady Gaga, among many other stars. In 1992, he founded the Watermill Center as a place for artists from around the world to explore their art and receive support. The task of moving it forward now falls to Charles Chemin, who has been part of the Watermill Center since he was 10 years old.

Saturday was also the 50th year Einstein on the beach. Earlier in the evening, the Observer spoke with Noah Khoshbin, curator of the Watermill Center, who curated “DiAlogs,” a three-dimensional exhibit of Wilson’s work. When asked what Wilson thought about the program, Khoshbin said he believed he would have liked it. “He would come in, go into each room, move one chair a few feet. Then he would say, ‘Bravo.'” As for the evening before, Khoshbin promised that the guests would go through “an indirect emotional reaction.”

And it didn’t make sense. Tiki torches light the way through the forest where a Lincoln Town Car, partially covered in foliage, doors open, plays a haunting oldies tune. On the other side, a man was sitting inside a white billboard, legs dangling, lost in his phone. Beside him, the words “UNGA KWAZI” were cut out, the sun setting on the stone. The attire of the crowd ranged from women in dresses and stilettos, not an easy feat in such an uneven environment, to some wearing sensible shoes.

Lucinda Childs and Chris Knowles. Zach Hilty/BFA.com

A stone staircase surrounded by white and purple flowers leads to the entrance hut. Inside, light shone through the dust that smelled like dung-filled earth while a man wrapped like a mother phonetically uttered words like “DREEM” as his mouth moved on the screen to eerie music. As we moved forward, a telephone rang among the trees, and the curious visitors caught a touching voice on the other end. A man in a shirt and a cowboy hat chopped wood. Dancers dressed in long white poles were looking back and forth, perhaps crying or happy. A man in black vinyl wrestles with a Styrofoam monster to a thumping sound Lou Reed Drones. It was a sea of nerves.

RoseLee Goldberg, founder of Performa, told the Observer, “Everywhere you look, Robert is making us have a vision. Every move we make, you can be sure he thought about it in some way.” Further into the forest, Laurie Anderson, her round frames like her violin, played. A Hole in the Sky with Shane Weeks and members of the Shinnecock Nation. Mikhail Baryshnikov stepped into the crowd.

Some of Wilson’s longtime collaborators, legends themselves, played with them. Lucinda Childs and Christopher Knowles read excerpts from his plays; French actress Isabelle Huppert returns to lines from works she has done with her over three decades; and Madeline Hollander presented Parallel Diagonalsinspired by the 45 degree angles in Wilson’s Einstein on the beach.

Notable guests included fashion designer Cynthia Rowley, gallerist Arne Glimcher, sculptor Arlene Shechet, director Susan Stroman, news producer Rosanna Scotto and Sailor Brinkley-Cook.

At the end of the dirt path, the forest opened up into a square where guests sipped LALO margaritas and “Unlimited” lager, and ate a smorgasbord of cold watermelon and feta, burrata, sweet corn orecchiette and more. BITE BY BITE it was delicious on the tongue.

Dancer Katherine Crockett dazzled in a nude strapless dress adorned with sequins. He told the Observer that Wilson had directed him to many productions and changed his life. When I walked on stage, he said, ‘Remember, you’ve been walking for a thousand years.'” He reflected on his wisdom. “If you think you’re walking in the right direction, change directions.”

And he remembers the time he spoke at an entertainment event: “An artist needs only three things – encouragement, encouragement, encouragement and money to make his art come true. Asked what he would think about this particular night, he thought that he would be happy about the young and respected artists who will gather to honor him and that he was a part of them. “It’s amazing what I’ve seen going through, and what’s still to come.”

As the guests ate, the player wheeled around, collecting trash to get garbage-scented ice cream. A nearby visitor waved. It really tastes like garbage, and I can’t get rid of the aftertaste.”

The crowd then turned to Julie Shanahan, who led an audience participation dance inspired by Pina Bausch. The Nelken Lineshowing the arm and hand movements of each season. Participating guests formed a merry procession, breaking through the crowd to Louis Armstrong’s “West End Blues”.

As the chain disintegrated, many continued to look for the first part and the second part of Wilson. I was sitting in my yard when a boy appeared and I thought I was crazy. Along the way, the Observer met Evelyn Duggan, a former summer student who is now working. She was wearing a strapless jumpsuit, her strawberry hair slicked back and a soft freckle of freckles on her face.

When asked by another guest if Wilson was scared, he just blurted out angrily and said, “He was there a lot, but I don’t think he was intimidating. He was demanding, sincere, detailed, but also funny and honest. He went on to say that he established this center well with the intention of it surviving for a long time. “He wanted it to be a place where artists would be able to communicate, not only with him, but with each other and build this network for the whole world.” About the theme of the festival: “Bob had a way and a time. It wasn’t a linear thing. Then he disappeared into the crowd.

It was a two-sided stage: on one side, Christopher Nell in a black suit; on the other, Julie Shanahan in a white dress. Visitors can travel between the two. Nell shouted from the stage: “Time is short, we’re wasting it. That’s fine with lots of elephants.”

As the night cooled and the rest of the guests went indoors, the Observer spoke with Elka Rifkin, the former director of the Watermill Center who was returning this year to volunteer and support Charles Chemin, the new artistic director. “The night was very good,” he said. “This is what Watermill was, but I feel like it’s at the level of what Watermill will be.”

The sound of two hundred ESO cymbals was heard and resounded throughout the area, and everyone flocked to the square. It came in waves, it built up, it softened, it went down again. A blueberry and mint decadence was served to a raucous audience. It passed. Suddenly, DJ King Shabazz closed the night.

Had Wilson left enough of a road map for the Watermill Center to succeed without him? “A lot of people use the word legacy when they look at the Watermill,” Elise Herget, managing director, told the Observer. “I think it’s more than that. I think it’s a continuation of something Bob created—not just a space for him to make work, but he always intended it to be a framework for other artists to work within.” He was silent for a while. “I’m here all the time. I live and breathe this place right now, and it’s amazing. And with that, I feel like his presence hasn’t left. In every kind of line, every kind of grass that’s been planted in the last thirty years.”

After all, in Bob’s world, time was never linear but infinite.