A rainy Friday in December and I am on my way to an appointment. I am a bit early, so rather than get out at Liverpool St. I decide to stay on the tube to Aldgate and see whatever is currently exhibiting at the Whitechapel Gallery. On arriving I find that the artists – as far as I remember – are unknown to me. Mel Bochner’s exhibition is curious and colourful, but I decide it needs more time on another occasion. I then wander into the large space with the sculpture. At first intrigued, my mind starts asking questions about the piece, my voice starts asking the gallery assistant if I can touch it.

I sit down, and reflect. I stand up and wander round. I sit down again. I decide to spend the rest of my time just in this space, on the carefully placed bench, slow art thinking. I sit and ponder, enjoy the textures, and watch the reaction of passers by.

I am quite overwhelmed, the day seems as though it was made for me to see this piece of art. I hadn’t read about it beforehand, seen any images or heard about it from anyone. I find out that the artist is Guiseppe Penone. I realise I may have seen some of his work as part of Arte Povera, probably at Tate Modern, but I couldn’t be specific. This sculpture is titled Spazio di Luce (Space of Light).

I leave the gallery literally lightened in mood and feeling, as though I have been in a special space and, as occasionally happens, in the right place at the right time.

It’s free, it’s on until September 2013 (though I urge you to visit before the end of March), and rather than going into further detail about the sculpture and potentially influencing your initial impression I just ask you to take my (humble) advice and go and spend some time there. Subtle coercion, all post-visit feedback welcome!