In the UN building and in Central Park in New York, the Danish artist Jeppe Hein, as described in a previous blog posts In the fall, he asked children and adults to paint their breath. Together with a group of helpers, he made thousands of passersby stop, then guided them to feel the movement of the breath in their bodies as the lungs expand and contract. Feel the chest. The ribs. The sensation on the back of the body. Breath after breath, then make the sensation of the breath visible with ultramarine blue brushstrokes on large white sheets.

Most of us know the magical feeling when the cold days set in and we can observe how the exhaled air moves like a mist from our lips. We have played with it. Perhaps it is the same magic that occurs when so many people come together to breathe, and together visualize rhythm and length. Each one with their own unique expression and imprint of a moment.

Can we succeed in recreating this in Denmark? In a school? Can we succeed in getting all students, big and small, restless and calm, confident and more insecure, to also sense their breathing, turn their attention inward and paint it stroke by stroke? Paint it without it seeming meaningless or turning into silliness? When we breathe slowly and deeply, a message is sent to the brain via the vagus nerve to release calming neurotransmitters. Is it possible for the students to register an increased calmness, and can this be felt in the mood?

I was excited. Each class is perceived differently when they enter the room. Who dominates the class and how the relationships with the adults are, varies, as does the unity and security. Therefore, each guidance has to be different. But the basic form is the same. Everyone in each class first receives an introduction to knowledge about breathing and about Jeppe Hein's project (described in HERE and HERE) and then they go together into the art room, where my indispensable helpers have set the table.

When I think back, there were only 10-12 students out of the 650 who really struggled with the process and were more focused on what their classmate was doing or rolled their eyes and laughed at being assigned this strange task. In the classes, the children and young people kept each other together and stuck to the activity, despite their differences. The majority were curious and open and carried the atmosphere, so the few who started by joking, held back and mirrored the immersion of the others.
It almost sounds too rosy. But it was magical.

Imagine 25 students coming in and without being asked to help each other put on the blue painter's coats. They are intended for children up to 12 years old, so to see the big 9th graders donning these voluntarily, without being completely out of it, was great. Imagine listening ears turning to my instructions, the common start, the process and the rounding off. The table with watercolor paper, the ultramarine blue watercolor poured into a glass, the brush lying ready. Then the guidance: ”Sit comfortably. Feel your breath, just like we did earlier. Place one hand on your stomach. Can you feel it moving? On the inhale, you dip the brush into the liquid color. On the exhale, you paint. You paint the length of your exhale. How strong it is. Maybe it will be a careful thin line? Maybe it will be saturated with color? It may be that the brushstroke is sliding, undulating or that you do it in jerks. What you paint is your exhale, as it is for you right now. In this moment. A completely unique one, where you share air molecules with others and give your body oxygen, life and energy. Some of you manage to paint a few breaths, others more. We are all different and express ourselves differently, even though we are doing the same thing right now.”

The focus and presence that was in the room was unique. I think we all felt it. The calm, the silence, the closeness and the connection. Just like in New York, a very special atmosphere and experience emerged. People were given the opportunity to be touched and to let the calming effect of conscious breathing fill in. My experience as a teacher is that when many people do the same action, something very special happens with the concentration.

The collective feeling and shared intention condense the experience and make it more intense. So intense that it may leave a lasting mark. I hope and believe that seeds have been planted. Seeds that, when watered, can germinate and grow larger. That hope is nurtured when Emil from 9th grade at Maglegårdsskolen raises his hand and says: ”I want to try this at home too.”

Note on the execution:
Both sides of each watercolor sheet were painted. One student painted on one side, the next day a student from another class in the school painted on the other side to emphasize their connection. All sheets were put on lines and hung in organic formations from the ceiling, so that visitors to the subsequent open house event could move through an installation of dove breath. Outstanding and unique.

Photo: Signe Haahr Pedersen and Gitte Tjellesen

Link:

Breathe with Me, an art project for the world by Jeppe Hein & ART 2030 continues as a movement towards 2030.

Hanne Linde
is a visual artist. She is affiliated with the Danish Arts Foundation's artist-in-residence scheme and is also a trained mindfulness teacher. She has extensive experience teaching both children and adults and is employed by Gentofte Municipality as a consultant in creativity, relationship skills and mindfulness training.
Hanne Linde holds workshops in Denmark based on 'by arrangement with Jeppe Hein'‘Breathe with me‘'. See more about Hanne here.

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