But she’s no killjoy. A case in point is “Floater Theater,” a new exhibition she created at the Exploratorium in San Francisco, near where she grew up. The piece consists of a red-velvet enclosure with a screen that is optimally lighted to prompt people to notice eye floaters and watch them dance.
“Like dust, floaters are there all the time and we sort of find them annoying or boring,” she said.
“There is a false sense that art has to be about the big stuff, when actually every artwork is in some way a thinking exercise — mental, aesthetic, philosophical or whatever kind of gym the artist is putting you in to exercise your imagination.”
In some ways, her work is about questioning what merits attention. “You usually come to a museum and orient yourself towards the artworks,” she said, “and a lot of things in your literal and metaphorical peripheral vision are ruled out as things not worth looking at.”
But Ms. Katchadourian’s work will be at the center of attention next year, when the Blanton Museum of Art at the University of Texas in Austin surveys her career.
Taking her MoMA tour, you may feel silly elbowing through the crowd to examine the dust on a ledge, vitrine or picture frame. But just as she can make visitors to the Exploratorium consider eye floaters as art, she can make you treat MoMA’s masterpieces as mere motes. The grand and the tiny come together: I am the universe, and I am dust.
Correction: October 27, 2016
A picture on Tuesday with an article about a new audio guide to the Museum of Modern Art produced by the artist Nina Katchadourian carried a credit that misstated the photographer’s surname. He is Manuel Martagon, not Martago. (The error was repeated in the Inside The Times summaries on this page.)