Let me preface this with a simple fact: It's nearly impossible to describe a Doug Wheeler installation with words. Writing about the artist’s work–or even looking at photos of it–hardly does justice to the experience. This is often the case with art, but it’s particularly true of Wheeler’s infinity room, now on view at the David Zwirner Gallery in NYC.

Wheeler, 75, is a pioneer of the Light and Space movement that birthed famous artists like James Turrell and Robert Irwin. His most recent piece continues his work in this realm, deftly playing with light and architecture to craft subtle illusions that wreak havoc on your perspective.

Entering a Wheeler installation feels a lot like the moment when you first realized the moon was a sphere, not a disc. Flat planes become inhabitable spaces–and sometimes vice versa. After removing your shoes and slipping on cloth booties, you're led towards a bright white light that looks like a horizon slowly rising and falling. This is actually an entryway–and just the first of Wheeler’s perceptual tricks. Have faith, tiptoe your way up to it, and walk through.

Suddenly you'll find yourself in a vast, echoing room that appears to be endless. The first thing you'll notice is how white it is. Then you'll note that the ceiling's dome is virtually invisible. The space is what you might expect an extraterrestrial holding cell to be like. It's intriguing for 15 minutes or so, but if you were stuck in there for a few hours, there's a decent chance you'd lose your mind.

>It was so subtle, I found myself asking the other visitor if the light had in fact changed. Neither of us were sure.

Walking around the circular room, you can feel a slight curve in the room's floor. It’s almost as if you actually detect the Earth's curvature for the first time, strolling along the edge of the globe like you would a sidewalk. A row of lights embedded under the raised floor cast a soft hazy glow up the walls. At first it's pink like the morning hours, but over the course of two minutes this gradually cools to purples and blues of late evening. It’s so subtle, I found myself asking the other visitor in the room if the lighting had in fact changed. Neither of us were sure.

This particular optical trick is a nod to one of Wheeler's other hobbies: flying planes. The soft, shifting lights were inspired by the artist’s fascination with the illusory landscapes one sometimes glimpses from an aircraft's window.

Unlike Yayoi Kusama’s glittering infinity rooms which occupied the same gallery a few months back, Wheeler’s installation is thoroughly selfie-proof. Any attempt to take a photo (which is prohibited anyway) is rendered totally lame, mainly because there's very little to be seen in the room to begin with. It's an artwork that truly needs to be experienced–cloth booties and all–to be appreciated.

Doug Wheeler will be at the David Zwirner Gallery until April 5, 2014. You can avoid the lines and make a reservation for a 15-minute viewing window at 212-517-8677.