Art as Therapy: Finding Presence Through Immersive Experience at the Tate Modern

Recently, after teaching a class in the area, I took myself to the Tate Modern. I hadn’t planned anything beyond giving myself a little time to wander, but what I experienced there stayed with me far longer than the visit itself.

I walked into the Turbine Hall and found myself completely absorbed in the exhibition. I’ve always loved that feeling of stepping into another world through art and this time it felt immersive, physical, almost like crossing a threshold into a different state of being.

The installation was multi-sensory. There were textures, smells, and a carefully layered soundscape that transported me somewhere far removed from the city into something that felt closer to nature, to memory, to instinct. I entered a maze-like structure made of branches. As I moved through it, a scent met me, one I couldn’t quite identify. It was subtle, but grounding, and it seemed to awaken something in me, drawing my attention fully into the present moment.

Suspended from the branches were animal skulls and bones. Visitors were invited to sit on animal skins and listen to stories through headphones. I remember reaching down to stroke the fur beneath my hands. It felt soft, even comforting, but at the same time, I felt a quiet discomfort. I began to think about the life that animal once had, before it was hunted and killed. That moment held a tension I couldn’t ignore: comfort and unease, connection and loss, beauty and mortality.

I stayed for nearly an hour, though it didn’t feel that long. When I finally left, I noticed something had shifted. I felt more present, more connected, not just to my surroundings, but to my own emotions. The experience had gently pulled me out of autopilot and back into a more responsive, sensory way of being.

As educators and creative practitioners, we often move quickly from one task to the next, carrying mental and emotional load without always noticing it. Spaces like this remind us of the importance of pause, of allowing ourselves to feel, to reflect, and to be moved.

There are many ways to step out of autopilot and into a more embodied, aware state. For me, art continues to be one of the most powerful. It doesn’t just offer something to look at, it offers something to step into, to question, and to feel.

Love,

Eve