“A beam on its end is not the same thing as the same beam on its side,” wrote Robert Morris in his 1966 Notes on Sculpture, Part II, succinctly articulating the degree to which, in the context of minimalism, the identity of a work does not reside in a self-contained physical form, and is instead deflected outward to the relationship established between object and surrounding space. It also happens that Morris was not necessarily concerned about whether the simple geometric shapes he created during the mid-1960s as part of his exploration of the viewer’s spatial and temporal experience maintained a continuous physical existence. To the extent that the work could be disassembled and built again as needed (the same configuration, but different plywood and gray paint), this alternate way in which the same work might not be the same links his profoundly physical expression with a form of dematerialization more often associated with conceptual art.