Please check out the video I made of the installation at - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQstduQlqWM
With "Be Still and Know..." my goal was to create a unique space for reflection. The space was to be extremely minimal, leaving nothing but the experience, the moment, the memory of an encounter...
Before the experiencer could enter the room they had to blow out the candle near the entrance. Then they peeled back the black curtain and entered the space. It was a 9 x 9 x 9 foot cube, with the inside painted all back, every inch. The room was void of light. One was deprived of their vision. As their brain was deprived of visual stimuli, they might have saw images or patterns in the dark, playing off their imagination. They became aware of their body and other senses. They smelled the incense that scented the room and heard the humming of pink noise or calming music. The walls and floor were hard, a withdrawal of stimulating texture in order to turn their senses inward. When they remained still, a light came on. A single black globe with holes of light shining through, reminiscent of the night sky. If they remained still long enough, their eyes would begin to adjust and notice the subtle light reflected on the black walls and floor, creating a faint glow. The longer they sat in the light, the better they saw. If they moved the light flicked off and remained off till they were still again.
Each person’s experience was different and what they encountered is what they brought in with them.
Here are a couple responses from people about their experience...
"Once I got in I froze in the dark. I figured it would take forever for my eyes to adjust to the pitch black so I reluctantly started feeling my way across the wall. Where was the piece? Couldn't feel a piece. Am I about to step on something? Then a light came on. First I was surprised, somewhat unpleasantly, that there was nothing actually in the room but me. And a light.
But it turned off so I continued to feel my way across the room, noticing when I got to a corner it turned back on. I'll admit I was a little enthralled. The layers of metaphor had not escaped me and actually applied all-too-well to my currently discouraged self.
I felt God say "I see you."
I was warmed. I continued to journey around a little bit, wondering if it was just the corners that would activate the light, didn't find out til later that it was simply being still. Again, the metaphors apply so well....."
-Meg Sikes
"I walked in and was disoriented in the darkness, naturally I stopped walking so I wouldn't trip over something or hit a wall. Then the light came on. I spent the first few minutes looking at the light projections on the walls, as I moved my head around they'd disappear. Then I remembered the title of the installment and I stopped moving and the light stayed on.
It was fun to realize I could control the light and relaxing in the midst of the disorientation from the darkness.
I enjoyed playing with my control of the light by moving my hands to turn off the light and then being still to turn it back on." -Nick Modrzejewski
"I absolutely loved your installation. It was a good reminder on the importance of finding moments to remain still amongst all of the craziness and unknown." -Bitsy Weaver
"It was very disorienting. I never got the memo that I was "actually" supposed to be still. I was too busy trying to "figure" it out, so I spent most of my time pawing around in the dark trying to figure out what I needed to do in order to make something happen. In all my frantic searching I was never able to find the light I was seeking. As well, the moment I was finally still, my back was turned to the light, so I never saw it. Kind of ironic and poetic." -Russell Dietrich
"The installation I visited was dramatic in the complete darkness the immediate word that came to mind was void. Philosopher Jean Paul Sartre said that the greatest question is why does anything exist at all? if you lie still within the installation it is almost as if nothing does exist at all." - Wayne Wager
"It was an amazing experience both times! There was an overwhelming sense of peace while I was in there. It was very isolating but in a good way, I felt like my mind was finally separated from all the stress and distractions of everyday life. The darkness was actually very comforting. When the little light came on, it didn't disrupt any of the previous feelings. It was like there was another presence in the room. Now I believe that God is always with us, but there are times that His presence feels so close and almost tangible. That was the feeling I had when the light started to glow. As I lay on the floor watching that glowing orb appear to subtly morph and change color, I felt like a celestial being watching the birth of a universe." - Josh Silic
"When I first entered Sara's installation-after telling her I wasn't afraid of the dark-I was actually startled by just HOW dark the room was. I was completely blind, which caused me to stop immediately. The dim light blinked on and I began to explore the room down one side of the wall, plunged immediately back into darkness. With my mind mostly focused on quelling a mild form of panic-maybe anxiety is a better term- I did not note any particular pattern to the light and assumed it was on a random interval. I made a slow circuit around the room, finding that as I feared running into something or suddenly coming upon something scary (rationally, I don't know why that would be an expectation; Sara's not the kind of person to pull mean pranks), I found myself more and more grateful for the times the light shone. After making the circuit, I sat down in the middle of the floor and stared and the ceiling, wishing the light would turn back on. And it did. I'd spent several minutes striving to reassure myself in the dark and wishing the light would stay with me longer, only to finally realize that it was triggered by stillness (I'm sure there's a metaphor in here for striving vs. trusting). I wished I had a chance to go back for longer and just sit. It would have been a very meditative space." -Amy Modrzejewski
With "Be Still and Know..." my goal was to create a unique space for reflection. The space was to be extremely minimal, leaving nothing but the experience, the moment, the memory of an encounter...
Before the experiencer could enter the room they had to blow out the candle near the entrance. Then they peeled back the black curtain and entered the space. It was a 9 x 9 x 9 foot cube, with the inside painted all back, every inch. The room was void of light. One was deprived of their vision. As their brain was deprived of visual stimuli, they might have saw images or patterns in the dark, playing off their imagination. They became aware of their body and other senses. They smelled the incense that scented the room and heard the humming of pink noise or calming music. The walls and floor were hard, a withdrawal of stimulating texture in order to turn their senses inward. When they remained still, a light came on. A single black globe with holes of light shining through, reminiscent of the night sky. If they remained still long enough, their eyes would begin to adjust and notice the subtle light reflected on the black walls and floor, creating a faint glow. The longer they sat in the light, the better they saw. If they moved the light flicked off and remained off till they were still again.
Each person’s experience was different and what they encountered is what they brought in with them.
Here are a couple responses from people about their experience...
"Once I got in I froze in the dark. I figured it would take forever for my eyes to adjust to the pitch black so I reluctantly started feeling my way across the wall. Where was the piece? Couldn't feel a piece. Am I about to step on something? Then a light came on. First I was surprised, somewhat unpleasantly, that there was nothing actually in the room but me. And a light.
But it turned off so I continued to feel my way across the room, noticing when I got to a corner it turned back on. I'll admit I was a little enthralled. The layers of metaphor had not escaped me and actually applied all-too-well to my currently discouraged self.
I felt God say "I see you."
I was warmed. I continued to journey around a little bit, wondering if it was just the corners that would activate the light, didn't find out til later that it was simply being still. Again, the metaphors apply so well....."
-Meg Sikes
"I walked in and was disoriented in the darkness, naturally I stopped walking so I wouldn't trip over something or hit a wall. Then the light came on. I spent the first few minutes looking at the light projections on the walls, as I moved my head around they'd disappear. Then I remembered the title of the installment and I stopped moving and the light stayed on.
It was fun to realize I could control the light and relaxing in the midst of the disorientation from the darkness.
I enjoyed playing with my control of the light by moving my hands to turn off the light and then being still to turn it back on." -Nick Modrzejewski
"I absolutely loved your installation. It was a good reminder on the importance of finding moments to remain still amongst all of the craziness and unknown." -Bitsy Weaver
"It was very disorienting. I never got the memo that I was "actually" supposed to be still. I was too busy trying to "figure" it out, so I spent most of my time pawing around in the dark trying to figure out what I needed to do in order to make something happen. In all my frantic searching I was never able to find the light I was seeking. As well, the moment I was finally still, my back was turned to the light, so I never saw it. Kind of ironic and poetic." -Russell Dietrich
"The installation I visited was dramatic in the complete darkness the immediate word that came to mind was void. Philosopher Jean Paul Sartre said that the greatest question is why does anything exist at all? if you lie still within the installation it is almost as if nothing does exist at all." - Wayne Wager
"It was an amazing experience both times! There was an overwhelming sense of peace while I was in there. It was very isolating but in a good way, I felt like my mind was finally separated from all the stress and distractions of everyday life. The darkness was actually very comforting. When the little light came on, it didn't disrupt any of the previous feelings. It was like there was another presence in the room. Now I believe that God is always with us, but there are times that His presence feels so close and almost tangible. That was the feeling I had when the light started to glow. As I lay on the floor watching that glowing orb appear to subtly morph and change color, I felt like a celestial being watching the birth of a universe." - Josh Silic
"When I first entered Sara's installation-after telling her I wasn't afraid of the dark-I was actually startled by just HOW dark the room was. I was completely blind, which caused me to stop immediately. The dim light blinked on and I began to explore the room down one side of the wall, plunged immediately back into darkness. With my mind mostly focused on quelling a mild form of panic-maybe anxiety is a better term- I did not note any particular pattern to the light and assumed it was on a random interval. I made a slow circuit around the room, finding that as I feared running into something or suddenly coming upon something scary (rationally, I don't know why that would be an expectation; Sara's not the kind of person to pull mean pranks), I found myself more and more grateful for the times the light shone. After making the circuit, I sat down in the middle of the floor and stared and the ceiling, wishing the light would turn back on. And it did. I'd spent several minutes striving to reassure myself in the dark and wishing the light would stay with me longer, only to finally realize that it was triggered by stillness (I'm sure there's a metaphor in here for striving vs. trusting). I wished I had a chance to go back for longer and just sit. It would have been a very meditative space." -Amy Modrzejewski
