This past weekend, I visited the Getty Center with a dear friend, and the experience was a perfect combination of art, architecture, nature, and physics. The day’s clear skies allowed us to fully enjoy the beauty of the museum’s expansive grounds and the stunning views of Los Angeles. However, it was Helen Pashgian’s Orange Orb that captivated me the most, drawing me into a contemplative exploration of light and perception.
“Lumen: Helen Pashgian” launched at the Getty Museum on Aug. 6 as part of the larger Lumen exhibition, which explores how light has shaped art from medieval times to the present. Pashgian’s work represents the modern side of this journey. As viewers enter the room, they are greeted by an orange orb in a white space. Though its simplicity may first elicit confusion, the glowing object quickly captivates, inviting onlookers to experience light in a deeply immersive way
As I viewed the installment, I was struck by how it changed with the shifting light. The orange orb, glowing softly, seemed to blur at the edges, merging with the surrounding space in such a way that its boundaries became indiscernible. As the light dimmed, an intriguing phenomenon occurred—around the orb’s edges, shapes of aqueous gray and blue began to form. These shapes were not physically present but rather projections from my own mind, filling in the gaps where the orb’s edges dissolved into the dimming light. This experience recalled the ancient theory of extramission, where vision was believed to occur when the eyes emitted light or energy, shaping what one saw in the world.
The indistinct edges of the orb and the emergence of these faint, imagined shapes perfectly embodied this extramission concept. As my eyes searched for the boundaries of the orb, my mind projected hallucinations of shapes where none existed. This act of projecting, rather than passively receiving, fits with the idea that the brain actively creates part of the visual experience—just as the ancients believed that light was sent out from the eyes to illuminate and construct what we see.
Pashgian’s Orange Orb masterfully taps into this timeless interplay between what we see and what our mind creates. The way the orb’s edges dissolve and reform in dimming light is a vivid reminder of how perception is a dynamic process—sometimes what we “see” is as much a product of the mind’s projections as it is of external reality. In this way, the orb acts not just as a visual object, but as a catalyst for the brain’s ancient impulse to create, interpret, and even hallucinate, making it a powerful illustration of extramission in a modern context.
Pashgian’s work, like that of medieval artists, creates an immersive experience that forces us to reconsider how we engage with art and the world around us. While today’s art relies on modern technology and understanding, it shares with ancient works a fundamental drive to shape human perception through light.
Leaving the Getty Center, I reflected on how connected we are to our ancestors. Although the methods and tools have changed, the experience of art as a means of transformation remains constant. Orange Orb reminded me that art’s power lies not just in what it shows us, but in how it shapes the way we see and interact with the world—whether through ancient beliefs of extramission or modern understandings of perception.