Thousands of people traipse through the atrium of 2 Houston Center each weekday, but until recently they had no reason to pause there and think about the space - or their place in it.

Now they're snapping pictures with their cel phones, so engaged that the property manager worries about accidents.

Above them, Spanish artist Daniel Canogar's sculptural LED instal ation "Waves" swims through the air like a giant spiral of ribbon caught by a breeze.

Suspended from the ceiling on cables strong enough to hold several cars, the
3,200-pound artwork comprises
350,000 LEDs in 606 special y designed, flexible tiles af ixed to metal with magnets.

"Waves" is bright, fun - and impossible to ignore. It also appears to be exactly what this space needed, and not just visual y.

Because the video projected through the LEDs features tenants of the center on a digital y manipulated, 11-minute loop, it also has engendered a sense of community.

"This is not a decorative piece; not traditional art functioning in a traditional application," art consultant Julie Kinzelman said. "It's functioning the way it should in a public environment because it becomes a place to commune and gather and talk."

The atrium of 2 Houston Center is a cavernous crossroads of escalators, elevators, glass and bricklike pavers where three floors are visible at once. When it was built in the 1970s, it was to be the epicenter of a dynamic city within a city with a tram to U.S. 59.

The campus eventual y grew to about 4.2 mil ion square feet, including five of ice towers, a mal and a hotel. But through a succession of owners, the bold vision didn't materialize.