Perception of Space

Our principle sense for perception of space is sight, but sound and/or touch is also used in some instances. I am looking at the possibility of building a room that plays with people’s perception of that space in visual and/or audible and/or tactile ways.

Skyspace – Seldom Seen by James Turrell. ‘Lightscape’ light installation exhibition at Houghton Hall, Norfolk

Saturday 8th August 2015

Another installation experienced at James Turrell’s Lightscape exhibition was Skyspace. Walking through the gardens of Houghton Hall I came across this building of wood construction on stilts that had no windows on any of the four walls. Around the perimeter was a sloping gangway that lead to the doorway into the building. Entering through two sets of doors I walked in and discovered that it consisted of a single room approximately 8 metres square. Around the walls reclined seating was built into the structure made from unpainted wood. The wall space above the seating and the ceiling was a smooth surface painted white. In the centre of the ceiling was an aperture approximately 3 metres square that formed a window to what was obviously the sky above. This was an open aperture with no glass or other barrier. It was simply a ‘window’ in the ceiling. Visually there was no reveal where the ceiling ended and the window began. It was as if the ceiling was paper thin and it created a frame to the image of the sky. That was very important to this piece.

The viewer of this installation sat on the slightly reclined seating and looked up to see what was to all intents and purposes a ‘picture on the ceiling’. The ceiling created the frame for the ‘picture’ that was potentially ever changing, because the scene was the actual sky. Initially there were no clouds in the sky so what I saw was pure azure blue with the occasional silhouette of a bird flying high up. The scene changed as the image of the sky began to fill with cloud. The sky image was also somehow intensified by the framing of it. It was very relaxing experience and I sat there for a good 20 minutes even though the image I was looking at was just a section of the sky above. It was almost mesmerising, meditative, sitting there looking through this window to the sky. It was a little like the game you played as children laying on the ground staring up at the sky when there were a few clouds floating by and you’d try and ‘see’ images within them.

External photo © Richard Humphrey : Internal photo © Ian Burt

St Elmo’s Breath by James Turrell. ‘Lightscape’ light installation exhibition at Houghton Hall, Norfolk

Saturday 8th August 2015

To discover one of my favourite artists was exhibiting in Norfolk, and one I am referencing in my dissertation, gave me a wonderful opportunity to experience his work. Of the many pieces on display, one in particular had a massive impact on me. It also gave a focal point to my dissertation. The installation in question is called St Elmo’s Breath and was located in the old Georgian water tower on the Houghton Hall estate.

It’s important to mention that it was a very bright and warm day with a sun filled clear blue sky. A maximum of eight viewers were admitted at any one time into the installation and it was explained that once inside it was pitch black. There was no lighting and so was instructed that each person would have feel their way down the corridor and into the inner room were there was seating for the each of the eight people. Although it was explained where the seating was, it was still necessary to feel your way to find it.

Once seated it was then a case of waiting! We were told it would take around 15 to 20 minutes before you’d see anything and it was usually women that would see first. Sitting there in complete and utter darkness was a very strange sensation. Everyone was also silent. I had no idea what to expect and at one point began to think I was not going to see anything.

However, at around the fifteen minute mark I thought I saw a very faint panel of light on the right hand side. I was looking straight ahead at this point. I turned my head to look at it, but there appeared to be nothing there. As I looked straight ahead it appeared to my right again. Still looking straight ahead and a few minutes later, an image appeared on the left hand side. Same principle applied. If you looked straight at it, it ‘disappeared’. Some minutes later and directly in front of me now appeared a much larger but very faint panel of colour. The colour of the panel was a kind of purplish pink. I’m curious as to the reason Turrell’s layout for this piece was not just the large rectangular panel on the wall directly in front, but also the two small rectangular pieces on the left hand and right hand returning walls.

It was at this point that one could start to see the walls in the room. There appeared to be some kind of platform/stage between the viewer and the wall in front.

As your eyes became more accustomed to the low level of light, the room ‘appeared’ to fill with more light from the illuminated art panels, and excusing the irony, things started to become visibly clearer. I could now see the walls were not black as I’d thought, but in fact creamy/white-ish. The raised platform/stage I thought I saw was in fact the carpeted floor. I now realise the room was much bigger than I originally thought. At was at this point you could see the person next to you in silhouette form and a few minutes later we all then came out of the installation and back into a room so that our eyes could adjust to the daylight before returning to the bright sunshine outside.

This was an amazing experience and fascinating how Turrell seems to play with our eyes’s and brain’s interpretation of what was happening in St Elmo’s Breath.

Photo courtesy of Houghton Hall