“We eat light, drink it in through our skins. With a little more exposure to light, you feel part of things physically. I like feeling the power of light and space physically because then you can order it materially. Seeing is a very sensuous act—there’s a sweet deliciousness to feeling yourself see something.” – James Turrell

James Turrell’s most recent installation, A Retrospective, at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art is more than a light show; it is an experience for the senses. It has his name buzzing throughout L.A.’s art culture and draws hundreds of people a day to the exhibit.

If you plan on going anytime soon, plan your trip in advance. The show opened in late May and has been sold out every day since. One portion of his show, "Perceptual Cell," which is open to people individually for a 12-minute viewing, is only accessible with a separate ticket and is booked up until mid-October. 

At first, I was not impressed with this installation. The only ticket available a day in advance let me see his two-part series of work. The first few sections of part one seemed to rely heavily on optical illusions. Spectators rotated around lit figures that were cast onto the wall, making you want to investigate just how Turrell had done it.

In many cases, there were sections of the walls cut out with hidden bulbs that created an inverted figure once you peeked your head near it.

One room was comprised of a bright pink rectangle and seats. I sat down thinking that the seats meant I needed to wait longer for the effect of the lights to work. I was nearly done with part one after just 10 minutes. I figured I needed to slow down a bit.

I was met with a waiting room where shoes had to be removed, and visitors were asked to sit along the wall facing a set of stairs ascending towards a projected white box that slowly changed from white to pink to blue. As I became entranced with the changing colors, I realized that what I was looking at was the entrance to a room filled with people.

After about 20 minutes of waiting, my group was summoned up the stairs and into the white box where all perceptions of depth and space were confused. We walked towards what looked like a projected rounded rectangle at the opposite end of the room, but as I stared into the brightly lit space, I could not tell if I was approaching a wall or a drop-off.

Those around me approached this space with caution as well. Everyone acted like small children near the ocean sticking one foot out and feeling the water. The intensity of the white light with a touch of blue tricked my senses into feeling as if I was in a cloud breathing in moist air. As the colors changed from the cool blues to the pinks and reds, it seemed to change the temperature as well.

Every so often, I would change my gaze from the rectangle to the opening where we had come through and see that the people on the other side began to change from yellow to green to blue. I knew that the lights in this room had remained the same while I had sat there, so what I was observing were my eyes playing a trick on me in response to the light.

That’s where Turrell’s true genius comes through. He understands everything about lighting and the way we interact with it. Every detail of that room — from the white walls and curved corners to the placement of the square entrance — was intentional and created from Turrell’s vision.

Overall, "James Turrell: A Retrospective" is well worth the $25 ticket. In fact, I will probably go again and maybe even put my name on that waiting list for "Perceptual Cell." If he can instigate such an intense personal experience in a room of eight people, I can’t imagine what he has in store for a viewer’s one-on-one time with his work.

Reach reporter Kaysie Ellingson here