PHOTOS: ‘Limitless Time,’ the 2026 Watermill Center Summer Festival

Julie Shanahan. Carl Timpone/BFA.com

Last weekend, the Watermill Center’s annual 2026 Summer Festival, “Limitless Time,” presented by Van Cleef & Arpels, kicked off over two days, attracting more than a thousand well-heeled guests to the sprawling, 10-acre center in Watermill, Long Island. But this year’s festival was different from other festivals. It was the first summer festival since the death of its founder, the indomitable Robert Wilson, in 2025. How would this otherwise surreal festival fare without his guidance and a moment of silence before the annual summer dinner for which he has long become famous?

There was little the legendary Robert Wilson didn’t do. Pioneering director, playwright, choreographer, performer, lighting designer, sculptor, painter, video and sound artist, he collaborated with Philip Glass on the famous opera Einstein on the beachWhich almost bankrupted 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 creativity and find support. The task of moving forward now falls to Charles Chimin, who has been part of the Watermill Center since he was 10 years old.

Saturday also happened to be the 50th anniversary of Einstein on the beach. To kick off the evening, the Observer spoke with Noah Khoshbin, curator of the Watermill Center, who curated “DiAlogs,” an exhibition of Wilson’s 3D works. When asked what Wilson thought of the show, Khoshbin said he thought he would have liked it. “He would go in and enter each room and move one chair a few feet. Then he would say, ‘Bravo.’” As for the next evening, Khoshbin offered to have the guests move through “a non-linear emotional reaction. “The night will start out like a dream, then turn absurd, and become transcendent by the end.”

And it was ridiculous. Tiki torches illuminated a path in the woods as a Lincoln Town Car, half covered in leaves, doors open, played an old haunting song. On the other side, a man sat inside a white billboard, his legs dangling, missing his phone. Next to it, the words “You Can” were cut out, and the sun was glowing through the letters. The audience’s clothing ranged from women wearing abayas and high heels, no easy feat on such uneven terrain, to others wearing more sensible shoes.

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

A cobblestone staircase lined with white and purple flowers leads to a hut contained within. Inside, dirt that smelled of earth with a hint of dung was highlighted, while a man wrapped like a mummy vocally uttered words like “DREEM” while a mouth moved on the screen to the tune of eerie music. While moving forward, a telephone rang between the trees, and the curious guests picked up an emotional voice on the other end. Shirtless man wearing a cowboy hat chopping wood. Dancers on stilts wearing long white skirts arched back and forth, perhaps crying or in a state of ecstasy. A man in black vinyl wrestles a spiky Styrofoam monster to a pulsating sound Lou Reed drones. It was an ocean of senses.

Rose Lee Goldberg, founder of Performa, told the Observer: “Everywhere you look, Robert is setting us up to see what’s going on. And every step we take, you can be sure he’s thought about it in some way.” Further into the woods, Laurie Anderson performed with her round amber frames matching her violin Hole in the sky With Shane Weeks and members of the Shinnecock Nation. Mikhail Baryshnikov slid into the crowd.

Other longtime Wilson collaborators, legends themselves, also performed. Lucinda Childs and Christopher Knowles read excerpts from his plays. French actress Isabelle Huppert returned to lines from works she performed with him over three decades. Madeleine Hollander presented Parallel diagonalsInspired by Wilson’s 45 degree angles Einstein on the beach.

Notable attendees included fashion designer Cynthia Rowley, gallery owner Arne Glimcher, sculptor Arlene Shechet, director Susan Stroman, news anchor Rosanna Scotto and Sailor Brinkley Cook.

At the end of the dirt path, the forest opened up to a plaza where guests sipped Lalo margaritas and even “limitless” beer, and ate an assortment of chilled watermelon and feta cheese, burrata, sweet corn orecchiette and more. The BITE bites were pleasant to the tongue.

Dancer Catherine Crockett looked radiant in a nude, strapless dress studded with sequins. She told The Observer that Wilson directed her in multiple productions and changed her life. “He sparked my imagination. When I would walk on stage, he would say, ‘Remember, you’ve been walking for a thousand years.’ I reflected on his wisdom. ‘If you think you’re going in the right direction, change directions.’

She recalled the time he spoke at a party: “An artist only needs three things: encouragement, encouragement, encouragement, and money to make his art a reality.” When asked what he might think about this particular evening, she thought he would be excited about the young and famous artists who gathered to honor him and that he was part of their formation. “It’s extraordinary what I’ve seen walking around, and what we haven’t gotten to yet.”

While guests were grazing, an entertainer came by on wheels, collecting trash in exchange for trash-scented ice cream. A nearby guest flinched. “It really tastes like garbage, and I can’t get rid of the next one.”

The audience then turned to Julie Shanahan, who led an audience-participation dance inspired by Pina Bausch’s song. Nillkin lineWith an explanation of the arm and hand movements for each season. The participating guests formed a joyful procession, winding through the audience to the tune of Louis Armstrong’s “West End Blues.”

As the series splintered, many of them continued with a simultaneous run of Part 1 and Part 2 of Wilson’s film. I was sitting in my yard and this guy showed up and I thought I was hallucinating. On the way, the observer met Evelyn Duggan, a former summer intern now on staff. She was wearing a strapless jumpsuit, her strawberry hair slicked back and a few freckles on her face.

When another guest asked her if Wilson was intimidating, she demurred, saying: “He had a big presence, but I don’t think he was intimidating. He was demanding, very honest and detail-oriented, but also very funny and honest.” She added that he prepared the center well with the aim of longevity. “He wanted this to be a place where artists could connect, not just with him, but with each other and then build this network for the world.” As for the festival’s theme: “Bob had a way with time. It wasn’t a linear thing. How can we expand it to find more moments within it?” Then she disappeared into the crowd.

It was a two-faced stage: on the one hand, Christopher Neal in a black suit; On the other hand, Julie Shanahan in a white dress. Guests can move between the two. “There’s a little time, and we’re wasting it,” Neil shouted from the stage. “And that’s a good thing for most elephants.”

As the night cooled and some guests drifted inside, the Observer spoke with Elka Rifkin, the former Watermill Center director who returned this year to volunteer and support Charles Chemin, the new artistic director. “Tonight was amazing,” she said. “This is what the watermill was, but I feel like it’s on the cusp of what the watermill will become.”

Then the sound of two hundred cymbals echoed across the floor, and everyone rushed back into the arena. It came in waves, accumulating, softening, and rising again. A variety of berries and mint were served to a fascinated audience. He was transcendent. Then DJ King Shabazz closed out the night.

Did Wilson leave enough of a roadmap for the Watermill Center to thrive without him? “A lot of people use the word heritage when they look at the Watermill,” Elise Herget, executive 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 in which to do his work, but a space that he always intended to be a framework for other artists to work within.” I stopped. “I’m here all the time. I live and breathe this place now, and it’s amazing. And through that, I can feel like his presence never left. It’s in every cucumber, in every blade of grass that has been grown over the last 30 years.”

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