I. As you are here, now, feeling yourself grounded, we invite you to allow your eyes to wander freely around this painting. Find ease as you sense your eyes moving slowly around the different parts, softly focusing on any of the shapes, lines, containers or paths that draw you in. Zoom in, and then out of the different parts, following the lines as if you are following a map, and in this way, taking in the entirety of the painting. Allow your gaze to softly graze every inch of it. 

In a moment, we will be inviting you to choose one of the areas, or shapes, to settle your eyes into; with ease, in other words, stopping to focus in on one particular part. [pause]. As you slow down the movement of your eyes, you can bring focus to one particular shape. Really absorb the space that is created by the shape. Observe the depth - how is the shape you are looking at an invitation to see another dimension? Imagine the shape as an entrance, or a portal that extends back and forth in space. Step into the shape with your mind and sense it allowing your eyes in. As you allow your eyes to play with the painting in this way, you can begin to see the entire piece as alive, and the shapes as popping out of the canvas to become a structure, an object, a passageway, an enclosure; perhaps even a vehicle, an appliance, or a machine. Close your eyes and imagine any one of these shapes coming alive in the “real” world or, if you prefer, coming alive as an image in your mind that you can remember, long after you leave the gallery. And now open your eyes, return to your body, connected to the ground and to the space that surrounds you. 

In this way, this painting is a reminder that everything that exists in the “real” world was once imagined, for the better or for the worse; and through this painting we can perhaps reflect on what kind of world, with what kinds of shapes, lines, enclosures, machines, and pathways, would we want to imagine living in – perhaps with a little more ease.

II. As you are here, now, feeling yourself grounded as you take in this painting, you can see all sorts of marvelous shapes and lines, some small and bold, some contained and predictable, others chaotic and random. Some people, when looking at a painting, try to find some secret code or embedded meaning, as if the artist knows something that the viewer does not and has left clues to help us figure it out. Perhaps there is meaning to be found in the way the artist has broken the thick lines of the frame, or some symbolic image in the constellation drawn inside the box, or a secret message embedded in the triangle upon which is posed, so delicately, a color wheel. 

Others, when looking at this same painting, may assume that there is no meaning other than the particular arrangement of elements on the canvas; elements that introduce unique configurations of shapes and objects, perhaps never seen before – could that be a chandelier, or a windchime? A kite? A chemistry tube, testing some strange gas? All of these shapes are surrounded by energy fields of seeming randomness, like a thunderbolt or a braided current of water; particles banging into each other, almost off the frame; geometric shapes coming together and then breaking apart, and everything arranged seemingly so unpredictably and yet… creating a pattern. Perhaps it is in stepping back to see how all the disparate parts are connected that meaning is ultimately created; and viewing this painting in this way might introduce a certain feeling of uncertainty. 

This reminds us of the composer Pauline Oliveros’ instructions for what she calls, “deep listening.” Begin by choosing any of the images in this painting and then focus on it. Then take a deep breath, and allow your gaze to soften, allowing yourself to see all of the other parts of the painting, but without shifting your eyes away from the original image that you chose. Open your gaze, in other words, to your peripheral vision by focusing on a single point, but simultaneously noticing everything that is around that point. Now you can open your gaze even more to take in everything that is on either side of you, taking in the space that surrounds you, even filling in the space that is behind you. And now close your eyes, ground your body to the earth, and listen into this peripheral space. You might hear the gentle hum of a fan, or people walking or talking; if you are alone in the gallery, you can focus on any sounds you might hear, inside or outside where you are now, and rest into the symphony of the sounds that are surrounding you. Notice the play of loud and soft as being a part of one, synchronous experience of sound. [pause] And when you are ready, open your eyes, return your gaze to the painting, and take it all in. 

In this way, the painting is a reminder that one thing is rarely isolated and by itself, alone; a thing – and that includes you – is always complexly dependent on many other things, energy fields, objects, sounds, and beings. In this way, meaning can be found in how you interact, connect, revere, listen and relate to the synchronous chaos of every syphonic moment in which you are but one part.

III. As you are here, now, feeling yourself grounded as you experience this painting, you might have the sense of there being, in the foreground of your vision, a fantastic contraption, a machine that might be a nuclear reactor with incredible particles converging in its core, or perhaps it is a jukebox creating cosmic spiral sounds, or maybe it is a screen upon which is projected a play of concentric, dancing circles. Whatever contraption, apparatus, or machine you imagine this to be, it’s amazing to also see how each part of this painting seems to either converge, or be an extension, of this one thing as if its connective circuitry makes everything else project, hum, crackle, break, or sing. 

In this way, the painting is a kind of control room - perhaps for a stylish spaceship, or a magnificent clock. And you, standing there, looking, you are the one who is pushing the buttons or moving the levers to make it fly, or tick. 

This reminds us of an ancient meditation in which a person who is experiencing pain in their body is invited to imagine a control room inside of their brain, one that controls the complex processes of the body; in other words, a person might imagine a panel of knobs or a sliding lever and would be asked: which direction, and how high or low would you need to turn that knob, or slide that lever, to bring comfort to that area of your body? The understanding is that visualizing a control room in this way activates a body’s parasympathetic nervous system which, in turn, triggers relaxation, and a deep breath; this kind of visualization helps to  regulate the heart, and produce an overall feeling of calm. Notice what happens when you are imagining exactly what your body needs at this moment, and find curiosity, delight, and even pleasure in your unconscious mind’s willingness to help you bring more comfort and ease to your body.

With this in mind, this painting might help you come into a more interesting conversation with your unconscious mind, seeing it as a very mysterious, but ultimately helpful and protective kind of apparatus. In this way, this painting can stay with you and you can recall it whenever you need a reminder of the amazing symbiotic connections between your unconscious mind and your body.

IV. As you are here, now, feeling yourself grounded as you discover this painting, you might imagine that the surface of the painting is a flat floor and that this painting is a carpet which, as you walk around it, reveals all sorts of unique rooms, nooks, passageways, and underground spaces. Walking along on the carpet and stopping on any of the shapes or arrangements of shapes, you can imagine an opening in the floor, like a trap door, and you can be curious what lies beneath. [pause] 

Or, you might imagine the flat surface of this painting to be a layout of rooms that you can walk through, imagining that you are about as tall as the stick-like figure standing in the far right corner, the one with small spikes that look like fire wheels, propelling you through space as you meander around all the different shapes, noticing how each opens up a new world. [pause] 

Or, you might imagine that the flat surface of this painting is a skylight, and that the shapes and figures are inviting you to see an astronomical event that is happening in the sky above you. [pause].

Whatever you might do to sense your orientation in space and time as being changed by this painting is the right thing to do, because this is a painting in which there are many points of convergence that create many shapes, each an invitation to change your perspective. Playing and experiencing these different perspectives is one way to experience this work of art a little bit more intentionally; but it is also a reminder of how you can shift or change perspective on any situation in your life that is causing you anxiety, and see it slightly differently.

We are thinking here about a 5-point meditation practice that is helpful to visualize as two lines intersecting at a middle point. To get a sense of what we mean, look for the two receding circles marked with an X in the lower right quadrant of this painting. If you think about a situation you are struggling with in your life right now as being stuck in the bullseye where the two lines are crossed, you can see that in that tiny circle, there is very little room to move around. It’s hard, in other words, when you are locked so deeply “inside” a problem or situation, to see it clearly. But now imagine seeing the same problem or situation from the perimeter of the circle, the widest vantage point. Instead of being “inside” it, you are “outside” looking in; so not only can  you can see it more clearly, you can take a breath because there is so much more space that surrounds you. And from this perspective, you can view the problem and perhaps imagine the first smallest step you could take to begin dealing, or healing, or just being with it. 

Once again thinking about this painting as a carpet you can walk on, you could take just a short walk around the semi-circle loop at the top of the box, or you could find an exit through the thick black line at the bottom of the box- and follow that line to explore all the other shapes as if they were rooms, portals, trap doors, or skylights. As you meander along you might ask yourself: where is the problem now? Here, as I am moving through it, like a room unfolding into more rooms, what can I see now that I hadn’t been paying attention to before? 

In this way, this painting can stay with you as a reminder that when you’re feeling anxious, frayed at the seams, overwhelmed, unable to focus, terrified of the future, perpetually in a state of discomfort, you might find a bit more ease when you see the bullseye of your situation dissipating like one big block into tiny squares, like sparks from a log, fireflies from a jar, an hourglass, a widening gyre, a cabinet of perpetually changing curiosities.

V. As you are here, now, feeling yourself grounded even as you communicate with this painting, you can pay attention to the way in which it is divided into four quadrants with a fire in the center; and how each quadrant has a different energy, or quality that helps to direct your attention. We invite you to imagine that this painting is not hanging on the wall but rather, is a flat plane, beneath you; it is the floor your are walking on. 

If you imagine you are standing in the top left quadrant, the one with two large blocks, one containing lava-like globular moving shapes, and one laid out like a tarp on the ground. THe density of things in this quadrant, as compared to the others, is interesting to notice and sense, no matter how subtlety, in your body. We call this feeling of density “earth energy” because it evokes the memory of gravity and the fact that at every moment, parts of your body are touching the earth, along with all of the other earth-bound forms and shapes that surround you and upon which you are dependent. Imagine lying down on the tarp and breathing into your body’s relationship to the ground that is always beneath you.  [pause]

When you’re ready, you can imagine moving to the top right quadrant, perhaps following the lines from the Earth quadrant to connect to these new patterns and arrangements of shapes. Here, you are surrounded by more space. There is one very long rectangle which you might imagine to be a vertical tunnel, through which you can float through different states of mind until you reach the very top which opens out into space, and light, and breath; we call this ‘sky energy” and it’s a feeling of floating, like having a dream of flying, slowly moving through the sky as if you are riding on a cloud, and seeing objects and patterns on the ground beneath you.

With this in mind, imagine flying over the lower right quadrant, and seeing round shapes that at first look like eyes looking up at you, but as you get closer, you can see that they are shapes on the ground, like crop circles or small landing pads. You can feel your body slowly descending towards one of them, safely landing, and then brushing yourself off as you investigate this strange landscape. It’s always good to take a moment to remember how easy it is to move between realms of sky and earth, knowing that the body you are inhabiting with the mind you are experiencing is always attuned to wider realities.

With that in mind, we are now in the realm of the lower right quadrant to encounter the realm of marvelous and ancient sacred shapes such as a three-dimensional donut, which, if you stare at it long enough becomes a portal to infinity; there is also a new shape in this quadrant that looks like a cluster of pixels in the shape of an animal - an alligator, or a wolf, perhaps a poodle - a nice  reminder of other sentient beings that also experience other realms. Exploring this quadrant is a good way to reflect on what we might call “spirit energy” because whenever a flat surface transmigrates us to wander among deep and unseen places, we are in the realm of spirit–or, if you don’t like that word, you might prefer us to say “reminds us of realms that are more than human.” 

And with this in mind, we end up in the center, where there is a fire burning, inviting us all to circle around it as it sparks small dots of ash spiraling skywards and earthwards, simultaneously. 

In this way, this painting is a complex cartography of many cosmologies; a map to guide us always into wider states of consciousness where quadrants converge and blur, even as shapes form and dissolve, wheels turn, energy manifests and you, standing there, are a part of the synchronous whole that is changing, evolving, and connecting us each to each as an ever expanding collaboration of imaginations coming together 

here, in this art gallery, staring at these paintings, and co-creating worlds.

Three Questions with Dannielle Tegeder on Trance Notations

On the occasion of my new exhibition Trance Notations at the Monahan Gallery, University of St. Thomas, I sat down with writer and PhD candidate Emeline Boehringer to discuss hypnosis, abstraction, and the history of attention. 

Trance Notations includes new work you made while under hypnosis with collaborator K Prevallet— when did you start working together?

K and I have been working together for a long time. She works with artists and writers with chronic pain, and we initially began trance sessions to address my fear of flying. As I worked with abstraction and spiritualism through my collective Hilma’s Ghost, I became interested in bridging trance and my painting practice.

How does working under hypnosis affect your process as a painter?

I feel completely unconscious. K brings me back to the surface and helps to direct the rhythm of the work. The end product are compositions that feel uniquely connected in a deep way.

K describes our joint process as “ekphrasis,” which is the literary device of describing artworks in detail in fiction or poetry. Hypnosis is a linguistic experience. K speaks and I listen, so the ekphrasis works backwards in a way. I generate an image from the ‘poetry’ of the trance. 

Trance Notations includes meditative audio prompts that direct the viewers’ experience with each painting for a certain amount of time, guiding the eye around the image. Why did you include these, and do you see the exhibition as speaking to contemporary anxieties around attention, or even popular practices of mindfulness or teletherapy?

We’re connecting to a history of attention that goes back to the early 20th century. The surrealists were interested in accessing unconscious states through automatic writing. Many women artists associated with transcendentalism used painting to direct the mind towards intense experiences of depersonalization through deep focus.

Abstraction from the very beginning was closely tied to the question of attention. In these cases, painting was also connected to collective experiences in that it provoked mental states present in rituals, seances, and collaborative work.