What is it about shared experiences that makes them special? We’ve all felt it in some way, but is “it” merely being in the company of another, so we don’t feel alone? Is it just a sensory phenomenon, the roar of a crowd cheering, laughing, gasping – or being absolutely silent – in each other’s presence that impresses the significance of that moment upon us? There’s substantial clinical evidence that supports the idea that when we share our focus and attention on the same thing, it does change our perception and mental processing of that information.

But does it go beyond simple psychological and social explanations? Even when devoid of mystical implications, many describe the harmony of certain collective experiences in religious or spiritual terms. Is there a supernatural element to the “energy” of groups and how they affect the way humans process events en masse?

We’ve all witnessed – and felt – the effects of isolation and social distancing for the past year as we’ve withdrawn from public activities and social gatherings due to the COVID crisis. We know the impact of seclusion and sequestration from the collective unit firsthand, and were already becoming more aware of it in different aspects of society, such as:

  • the corrosive mental effects of solitary confinement on inmates
  • the increasing prevalence of anxiety, depression, and other mood disorders long before COVID

Technology has always held the prospect of curing society’s ills. But the promise of the internet to connect the globe and bring us closer together has done precisely the opposite. Our collective psyche is more fractured than ever, and we are as lonely as we’ve ever been.

The return to “normal” life as we knew it before the COVID pandemic is imminent. But have we learned anything from our isolation? Are we going to leave it behind without understanding what it did to us? Can we illustrate the effects of “togetherness” in a way that can inspire us to change for the better?

“That’s great George, very profound – but what are you gonna do about it?”

Well, that’s just it. I still don’t know how to address the questions I’ve presented above with what I’ve learned in IMA.

 

I have some meandering notions, which play around with these ideas:

Influences and inspiration:

In large part, my initial investigation was inspired by Chelsea’s thesis project, which I saw as a meditation on the way we’ve come to engage with art – which is to say, how we document our disengagement with it. By making a kinetic sculpture stop moving – to stop being what it is – when someone tries to take a picture of it, she addressed the self-reflective need we’ve developed to bear witness and record memories externally, rather than experience them. As someone who’s worked in the performing arts for the better part of my adult life, this hit a particular nerve in me, and I saw an opportunity to address the unspoken agreement audiences make when we become audiences – in particular, the current inclination to document our experiences in lieu of experiencing them.

Some of my initial ideas revolved around an intervention between the audience and performer/object: Can working in that space between spectator and spectacle reveal something? Much of it became a way of hijacking or sabotaging – essentially, controlling – the viewer’s relationship with the object of their attention:

I saw these technologies as opportunities to guide or “correct” how we relate to these experiences (i.e., “put away your phone and BE HERE!”) but there was a certain confrontational aspect to them that put me off. I know I hate such behavior, but this project shouldn’t be a disciplinary finger-wag. The beauty of Chelsea’s work was in its gentle subversion: That “thing” you’re trying to take a picture of isn’t gonna happen if you try to take that picture, so just enjoy it.

My research then spread out to the scientific understanding behind shared experiences, and I was thrilled to see hard evidence of it. I found an abundance of studies addressing the psychology of shared experience and it was very gratifying to see that there really was something to it:

Still, the question seemed unresolved. Okay, so shared experiences really are different, but why?

The first days of the pandemic lockdowns saw a lot of pushback from religious leaders who saw such restrictions as unconstitutional prohibitions of people’s right to practice their faith. I saw it as common sense, and as an agnostic, I looked at it as a ridiculous argument: your relationship with God (whatever you perceive it to be) is special, personal and private – so why the need to bring in an intermediary? God is everywhere, so you can pray at home, right?

Well, my research directly challenged that idea. Experiencing something as a group is different, and I couldn’t just exclude religion from that. My own experiences at events like concerts, plays, music festivals and nightclubs certainly shared something with churches and tent revivals. So is there something more to it?

Before the pandemic hit, I had a side gig producing DeepBeats Yoga: an ongoing series of music-themed yoga events (most often at House of Yes in Brooklyn). I booked yoga instructors to lead a class in a nightclub, event space, sometimes outdoors, and I would DJ for the class – upbeat house and techno for the more active sequences and atmospheric, ambient grooves for the more meditative moments. For some attendees, it was just a fun spin (I know…) on the usual yoga class – but often after class, I’d be approached by someone who was visibly affected. They’d thank me lovingly, and tell me how moved they were by the experience: how it changed their practice, how connected they felt, how it was unlike anything they’d ever experienced before. Aside from the personal gratification, I knew I was tapping into something special for these people.

Admittedly, I next took a terribly literal approach to the idea of “vibes” and “being on the same wavelength”… Most recently, this religious/spiritual angle and my experience with those yoga classes drew me to the phenomena of sound baths and binaural beats, resonant frequencies and harmonic resonance, and the effects of frequencies on our physical selves:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/sleep-newzzz/201810/how-can-binaural-beats-help-you-sleep-better

https://medium.com/@tamara.klien/the-science-behind-sound-baths-6b935f06c7f7

https://sciencedemonstrations.fas.harvard.edu/presentations/chladni-plates

These were great detours into the physical world of sound, but felt like I was veering away from the initial ideas of shared experiences. Unfortunately, without a clear direction on how to physically approach this project, I’m still rudderless on the nuts and bolts of it. What could I do that would really address my questions, or would it merely be an ancillary exercise on the theme of shared experience?