Immersed in the Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit, I Just Felt So… It’s Just That…

Summary

The author reflects on their emotional experience at the Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit in Los Angeles, expressing a deep connection with the art and the shared human experience, despite personal hesitations.

Abstract

The Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit in Los Angeles provided a profound and moving experience for the author, who attended on their birthday with friends. The exhibit featured expansive projections of Van Gogh's works, lush music, and interactive elements like dayglow circles and mirrored pillars, creating an environment akin to a sacred space. The author was touched by the collective yet distanced engagement of the masked attendees, feeling a sense of unity and shared emotion. The exhibit's portrayal of Van Gogh's life and work, including his struggles with mental health and creativity, resonated deeply. The author, though wishing they had been freer to express themselves physically amidst the art, acknowledges the transformative power of the experience and its impact on processing life's complexities.

Opinions

The author found the exhibit to be a deeply emotional and spiritual experience, akin to being in a church.
There was a palpable sense of connection among the attendees, despite the physical distancing and mask-wearing due to the pandemic.
The author was particularly moved by the presence of other visitors, such as a young couple and a woman with a cane, who were also deeply affected by the exhibit.
The author regrets not fully letting go and dancing amidst the immersive environment, suggesting a desire for greater personal expression.
The exhibit's ability to convey the depth of Van Gogh's life, including his triumphs and struggles, was seen as powerful and impactful.
The author reflects on the yin and yang nature of life, acknowledging the interplay of beauty and pain, joy and sorrow, as depicted in Van Gogh's work and experienced in the exhibit

Immersed in the Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit, I Just Felt So… It’s Just That…

I wish I could say. I’ll try.

Author’s screenshot of the vangoghla.com website

I made an unusual move as my birthday loomed and said what I really wanted to do. See the Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit. It’s in L.A. right now, down on Sunset in the old Amoeba Building.

So last night we met two dear friends there and it was — literally — immersion time. But…

No. This won’t work. Alright. Yes. Try again.

Cathedral ceilings and vast sprawls of white wall, uncluttered floors with dayglow circles thrown like bright eyes for the gathered to sit or stand in, pillars

clothed in mirrors, and thus it began, like church, lush music, missing only the celebrant, though he appeared at points in the play, and I wish I could say

as music swelled and this labor of love unfolded, strokes upon layered strokes layered upon layer more and more the paintings we know emerged and I wish I could share

what I felt but will tell you we were so many strangers at dusk together, masked up, keeping our distance, but there was something, a something between us, a feeling

like a long, long time ago, so that in cognito I was soon crying, open-mouthed, free, though not free enough — and this is on me — to just break into dance

on my own in that space, to just flow through all and everyone immersed in all that feeling, this heart and these limbs mirroring sunflowers, irises, starry,

starry starlight, so yellow, so blue, and I was so drawn to the reverent young couple and the small woman with her cane, all knowing, feeling, sensing, seeing his impact —

this man with demons and visions and lonely misgivings — and the hushed solemnity was clear as those church bells he heard in Arles, where he wanted an artist colony but did get

fifteen of the most productive months of his life, though he lost Gauguin and his left ear in remorse after their drunken fight, and isn’t that just how yin/yang real life still is? And we were all

there together a century and a half later in our masks and strangerhood struck mute in circled awe, and our beautiful friends who recently lost their dear young brilliant son felt too much

the ongoing catharsis they’ll be immersed in from now on, and the beauty, sadness, color, movement, pain all seemed the same in a way that just feels like… life. Just

wish I’d danced. Need more immersion. Saying, then doing what I really feel as we all live like it really matters in our yin/yang dreams down on our Sunsets.

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