You know you’re probably in for a remarkable experience when the curator encourages you to take part in a short breathwork meditation before viewing the art. As Marina Abramović puts it, clearing the mind is necessary to savour something new, and performers and viewers must be ready for hard work: ‘Remove your watch. Your journey is internal. Take a moment to connect with yourself. We’re always thinking of the past and the future, and always forget the present moment . . . which is the only reality you ever have.’

When blind painter Mike Parr writes 'Free Palestine' on white walls using bold black brushstrokes, it resembles an alchemist casting the ether with a spell, and it doesn't matter if the words are later covered over; their magic now forever embodies the piece. War and violence loom large in the Collective Absentia’s performance piece: a prisoner sits under a spotlight, face covered, held by unknown forces. As viewers pass, or stop and watch, there is strong discomfort and desire to set the artist free. In Melati Suryodarmo's Amnesia, she apologises while marking a blackboard that resembles a ho'oponopono prayer. A stitch or a life ended is represented by every chalk dash. The message is that we ignore our collective history at our peril.

Marina Abramović Institute: Takeover, Adelaide Festival Centre, run ended.