The Eight-Year Impact of Pleiades

Pleiades floor plan at the Mattress Factory

The Observer Effect, first proposed by Werner Heisenberg, theorizes that the act of observation can alter the very existence of what is being examined. Pleiades, the permanent light installation by artist James Turrell, has resided at the Mattress Factory since 1983, and my engagement with it over the last eight years has changed my life.

In 2016, I visited Pittsburgh. 

I lived in Washington state with my husband and I did not identify as an artist. When I arrived at the Mattress Factory, Pleiades—a reservation-based experience in darkness—sparked my curiosity. Asking no questions, I signed up, intrigued by the mystery.

Walking the concrete ramp toward Pleiades, the darkness engulfed me. I took my seat, eager. My eyes strained to adjust to the pitch black. I felt, before I saw, a soft pulse of energy—light—coming forward from behind me. Though my body remained still, it was as if I was moving within a force field. I was compelled to keep my eyes open for fear of missing out.

As the pulsing ceased, a deep purple thread emerged, thin and striking, before coalescing into an orb. Tears stung my eyes from the effort of trying to see. When I blinked, the orb danced, sentient and aware of my presence. Just when I thought I could grasp it clearly, it darted away, leaving a temporary imprint on my field of vision. The orb was alive, and I felt a profound kinship—a tug deep inside my chest. But 15 minutes was not enough time to fully grasp the orb’s true nature. 

During the same visit in 2016, I participated in a guided meditation—intending to meet my future self—with a small group of strangers via Zoom. Our guide led us to enter a room in our minds and in this conceptual space, I found myself standing inside a white room with no windows and no doors. Meeting my future self within this room foreshadowed an impending transformation in my life, but I could not imagine what it might be.

When I returned to Washington, the purple orb from Pleiades haunted my dreams; it would appear behind my eyelids as I drifted into sleep. I would try to catch it, but never succeeded.

The Observer Effect resonates with me now. Pleiades altered my being, and I, in turn, altered Pleiades by removing the purple orb from it.

Fast-forward eight years, it is 2024. 

I am now a resident of Pittsburgh, I am divorced, and I identify as an artist. I am not who I was in 2016, and I am grateful. I re-entered Pleiades with anticipation of the orb, but I sought new understanding grounded in familiarity.

I used earplugs to minimize surrounding noise; to hear myself better. A persistent bright light to my left vanished when I turned toward it, and the room became a consuming mouth. I welcomed being swallowed whole. A soft, dusty rose hue permeated my vision; I questioned if it was a product of my expectations as I did not see this color the first time.

Then, the deep purple lightning struck to my right, reactivating the mystical force field. I awaited the orb’s appearance. The dusty glow never dissipated; it grew and shrunk with intensity and at its strongest, emitted a brilliant white center. I sensed another presence then and all color washed out. Was the light scared? I became vulnerable. Desiring aloneness, I opened my eyes wider, concentrating on the void. The orb briefly appeared, as if to say hello, before being absorbed into the disappearing pink haze. I confronted echoes of trauma and fear, recalling various states of feeling lost but later, the joy of being found. Gazing into Pleiades' emptiness, I summoned the elusive orb, but it did not return.

A wave of urgency about time overcame me, and I heard my own voice speak from the center of my chest. My heart whispered secrets. Time is created and I own it, and I can be here as long as I want to be, so relax, take my time as we say, so I did and I was with myself for a million years. I realized I could stay in this moment indefinitely so I relaxed, embracing an eternity within the solitude. 

The Artist & The White Room

I hadn’t investigated James Turrell prior to my visits, focusing instead on defining my encounter. However, after my second visit, I learned that he began exploring light in 1966, transforming hotel rooms into pure white spaces with no windows. He blocked external light and concentrated on projected illumination.

These white rooms bear a striking resemblance to the mental environment I created during my meditation of 2016. I do not know, nor can I prove, whether I met my future self before or after my first visit to Pleiades. However, the parallel between Turrell’s artistic method and my visualization suggests deeper connections. I am that future self now; I am the projected light within my own life—my own white room—navigating the darkness to uncover the spectrum of my existence. 

This revelation serves as a metaphor highlighting how our experiences shape our beliefs. We have the power to transform our surroundings through observation, introspection and purposeful interaction. This is central to my artistic practice; creativity can only flourish when I am brave and traverse the inner landscape. 

Memoirtistry® is a mirror to Turrell’s exploration of light. Both our works serve as catalysts for self-discovery. Healing begins within, and Pleiades invited me to address and redefine my relationship with the past; it ignited a deep reckoning with my identity. Why am I so afraid to heal? Because I have been afraid of myself—of using my own compass.

Pleiades triggered me to fall in love with my light. The installation compels each observer to face their darkness, fears, and unresolved narratives. The orb I first encountered in 2016 symbolizes more than mere fascination; the orb was me, projected outside of myself. I brought it in, which is why it followed me out.

Light and darkness coexist inside each of us, and Pleiades affirms the transformative power of art. I recognize now my capacity for growth and renewal. My relationship with Pleiades, much like my artistic practice, is an ongoing dialogue. With Memoirtistry®, I reclaim my power, paint my white rooms in whatever colors I choose while illuminating the path toward healing, creative expression, and the embodiment of my true selves. Being present holds the remedy for discomfort. Fear tells me I’m doing the work, but it is no longer running the show.

As Turrell encouraged me, so I encourage others—embrace your darkness and you’ll discover the light within. Pleiades challenges us to witness our evolving selves, recognize the power of observation, and become active participants in shaping our stories. Through this lens, the Observer Effect becomes a symbiotic relationship—art influences the observer and the observer influences the art, creating a dynamic interplay.

What will you see when you look into the void of Pleiades? And who will you be on the other side?