Announcer: This is a Getty podcast.
Lilit Sadoyan: Today we’re exploring the senses and
how to flow with water in Robert Irwin’s 1997 Central
Garden at the Getty Center.
[Theme music begins]
Welcome to Our Museum Mindfulness Meditation
podcast, or OMMM.
Part art history and part meditation, we use works of
art from the Getty collection as inspiration for mindfulness
and deep reflection.
Hi—I’m Lilit Sadoyan.
I’m a long-time meditation practitioner and museum
educator at Getty.
Thanks for joining me as we bring mindfulness
out of the gallery and into our daily lives.
[Theme music ends]
Today we’re exploring the role that water can play—both
in the Getty’s largest work of art, Robert Irwin’s 1997
Central Garden, and as a tool for engaging our senses.
This episode begins with a breathing exercise to help
relax your body and mind.
We’ll then give a bit of history and context for Irwin’s work.
And then we’ll close with a flowing water meditation
inspired by the garden.
This series is also available as an audio podcast.
If you’d like to step away from a screen for a few
minutes, listen on your favorite podcast app.
Now, if you’re ready, let’s jump in.
[gong chimes]
[Slow, meditative music begins]
If you feel comfortable, I invite you to close your eyes.
And let’s cultivate a sense of presence by taking a
few deep breaths together.
In through the nose. [inhales]
out through the mouth. [exhales]
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
One more deep inhale.
And a deep exhale.
If your eyes are closed, I invite you to gently open them.
[bells chime]
[Music continues]
Across cultures and ages, water has symbolized purification,
change, and rebirth.
Water moves both quietly and powerfully through the world.
It shapes the land.
It reflects the sky.
It nourishes and carries the rhythms of everyday life.
Today, we draw inspiration from the Getty’s Central Garden and
water’s movement—observing, listening, and allowing
it to guide our attention.
[Music ends]
Getty’s Central Garden is officially the largest work of
art in the Museum’s collection.
It covers 134,000 square feet and encompasses
thousands of plants, rocks, and human-made features.
When Robert Irwin took on one of his largest commissions—to
design the Central Garden at the Getty Center—he
didn’t have any experience working with plant materials.
A native Californian, Irwin began his career as
an abstract expressionist painter in the 1950s.
By the following decade, he became a leading figure of
the Light and Space movement in Southern California,
which investigated perception and ways of seeing.
Irwin then moved away from making traditional kinds of
art and turned his focus to creating immersive installations
and altered environments in the 1960s and 70s.
These works heighten the viewers’ awareness of
their own perception and physical experiences.
He used unorthodox mediums like fluorescent light,
aluminum and acrylic discs, and ephemeral materials too.
By the time Irwin was commissioned to create the
Central Garden in the 1990s, he had stopped making permanent,
unchanging artworks altogether.
The Central Garden serves as a kind of pinnacle of
Irwin’s artistic endeavors.
It is a living work of art that changes every day because
nature is always changing—with the changing of the seasons,
the movement of the light from morning to night, and with the
cycles of growth and death.
Visiting the garden invites you to connect deeply to
your own body and perception.
[Meditative music with light water-sounds begins]
Irwin introduced a layer of complexity into the garden
by incorporating water—an element that is constantly
moving and changing.
Early on, Irwin decided that he would aim to recreate the
original contours of the canyon where the garden now sits.
Streams often run through mountain canyons, so Irwin was
attempting to recreate what had once been there long ago.
Irwin’s stream runs the entire length of the garden,
surrounded on both banks by trees and plant beds.
Rather than replicate a natural stream, however, Irwin’s version
is deliberately designed and meticulously managed, unlocking
as a sequence of sensory experiences in which the
water is both seen and heard.
A zig-zag path brings visitors through the garden and crosses
the stream at four locations.
At each bridge, where the path crosses the stream,
Irwin carefully placed differently shaped and sized
rocks to produce carefully tuned sounds as the water
flowed over and through them.
Let’s now imagine walking through Irwin’s garden.
[Water sounds begin]
At the top of the garden, we hear the sound of rushing water,
but we don’t actually see it.
The boulders are large and complex; they also
sit close to the bridge.
The deep and intense sounds of the water here whoosh and
rush, finding a way through.
[Sounds of rushing water]
Progressing through the stream garden, the character
of the water changes.
As we move down the zig zag path, crossing over teak
bridges, Irwin intended for the volume of the water to
fluctuate, corresponding with a landscape that becomes
increasingly lush and vibrant.
We hear the water playfully tumbling, pouring, splashing,
gurgling, swishing, pooling and bubbling, trickling,
to near shimmering silence.
[Sounds of bubbling water]
The stream ends with a wide and shallow channel
of rocks, water flowing through with fewer obstacles.
At the end of the stream garden, we see a poetic
inscription by Irwin carved into a pair of landing stones
at our feet: “Ever Present, Never Twice the Same. Ever
Changing, Never Less than Whole.” These words force us to
pause for a moment, to remember that the Central Garden–any
garden–is always in flux.
Everything always changes and evolves.
And with that in mind, we enter the bougainvillea
plaza, a threshold or transition from the stream
garden into the bowl garden.
In this plaza, at the very bottom of the stream, water
appears to pass under a bridge then over a sloped stone wall.
This creates a sheet of water, a kind of “veil,”
known as a chadar.
This waterfall is approximately seventeen feet
[or five meters] in height.
Here, water produces a dynamic roaring, gushing,
spraying effect as it cascades down the wall and
spills into the pond below.
[Sounds of rushing water]
[Water sounds end]
The Central Garden is felt in the body of
those experiencing it.
Tuning to the diverse sounds of water and the
natural environment creates a revelatory experience.
Today, I invite you to allow water to guide your awareness.
Water is powerful.
Research has shown that being close to water reduces
cortisol and boosts serotonin, dopamine, and oxytocin.
Spending time in or around water also benefits
emotional well-being.
Blue Mind Theory suggests that being in proximity to
water can ease your mind into a meditative state.
Practicing a water meditation, like today’s
exercise, encourages us to recognize the ever-changing
quality of our emotions.
We can cultivate mindful attention, openness,
and gentle release where tension once lingered.
We become more sensitive to the shifting currents of
feeling and flow in places that once felt rigid or blocked.
This practice helps us align with the natural
ebb and flow of life.
And with that, let’s move into our flowing water meditation.
[Low, meditative music begins]
If you feel comfortable, I invite you to close your eyes.
If you would prefer to keep them open, that’s okay too.
Just lower your gaze and lower your lids to minimize
visual distraction.
And adopt a posture in your body that feels
both relaxed and alert.
Whatever feels comfortable for you today.
And let’s begin again by taking a few deep breaths together.
In through the nose.
[inhales]
Out through the mouth.
[exhales]
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
One more deep inhale.
Deep exhale.
[Music ends]
And just let your breathing resume its natural rhythm.
Nothing to force or extend here.
Let your body breathe itself.
Notice the way that the breath moves in and out of your body.
What’s the temperature like every time you
breathe in and breathe out?
What’s the texture like today?
Notice the rise and fall of your chest.
And with a soft belly here,
notice your ribs expand and collapse.
Just this moment.
Just this breath.
[Silence]
[Smooth, water sounds begin]
Bring your awareness to the sound of flowing water.
Take a breath in, and let your exhale go with the flow.
Imagine a stream of water flowing along a channel that
curves through a garden.
Notice how it moves.
How it sparkles in the light.
And changes sound as it flows over the rocks.
Imagine yourself flowing effortlessly with the current.
Notice how the water adapts and finds a way forward.
Water always finds a way.
You can even visualize that with each thought or worry
that arises, you place it on a leaf or a flower petal, drop
it in the stream, and watch it effortlessly float away.
Feel the tranquility that comes from being in harmony
with the natural flow.
Be the water.
Like a stream of awareness that flows easily throughout the day.
Notice how you feel right now.
Notice what, if anything, has shifted in you since
we began the meditation.
And if your eyes are closed, gently open them.
Return to the environment that you’re in.
Slowly bring your awareness to the space that you’re in.
[Slow, rising music]
When we simply listen, we pay attention to the subtleties
of experience: the sounds, the feelings, the movements that
might otherwise go unnoticed.
We pay attention to what is present without trying to
change, judge, or control it.
And now I invite you to carry the following reflection
with you into your day.
As we return to the world, let’s carry this sense of
presence and connection with us.
And I want to see if we can find different opportunities to
notice when we come into contact with water throughout our day.
Consider the sound of water to be a reminder of the
impermanence of experience.
Pay attention to the sensations of touching water,
its temperature, its flow rate, and the sounds—however
subtle or obvious.
Take these opportunities as reminders to be in
the present moment.
Notice how they make you feel.
Let’s close our practice by taking a full,
deep breath together.
Inhale.
[inhales]
Let it go.
[exhales]
Thank you so much for joining me.
[Music slowly fades out]