What do we really know about Yoko Ono? For the average person, she’s the wife of John Lennon—often unfairly blamed for breaking up The Beatles. But what do we know about her as an artist, as a creator? The recent retrospective YOKO ONO: DREAM TOGETHER at Neue Nationalgalerie once again revealed Ono as an independent, daring, and profoundly influential voice in contemporary art.

The exhibition presented three installations, each leaving its own trace.

Wish Tree (1996). Inspired by a Buddhist tradition, visitors hang notes with their wishes on the branches. My wish was simple: to remain true to myself. When I tied the small piece of paper, I felt an invisible bond with other visitors — a fleeting sense of unity, almost magical. The simple gesture became part of something larger, and that feeling stayed with me.

Cleaning Piece (1996). River stones, carefully placed on a surface. I picked them up, rearranged them, feeling their weight and texture. Each stone urged me to pause, to think about the joys and sorrows of my own life. In the rush of city life, such stillness is rare, and that’s what makes this work so special.

Folding Paper Cranes. I sat at a table and began folding origami cranes. Each one was a small hope, a small gesture toward peace. The act took on a collective meaning — thousands of hands creating a shared ritual, connecting people through a common yearning for harmony. I felt that my action truly mattered, even if it was small.

The exhibition dismantles the conventional idea of a museum. There is no distance between the viewer and the artwork. Everything comes alive through participation. You don’t just look; you touch, create, think, and dream together with others.

Before visiting, I didn’t have a solid opinion about Yoko Ono. But after, I left with a sense of warmth and clarity. The simplicity of her works is not without depth. Each piece is an invitation to dialogue, to mutual care, to contemplation of peace.

Special mention must be given to the curators: the space is filled with care and attention to detail. The light falls softly, time slows down, and the air itself seems to breathe. The museum becomes a confidant, and you become its participant.

What’s remarkable is that her works from the 1960s and 1970s still feel contemporary. Their gestures, symbols, and minimalism resonate powerfully today. They don’t provide answers; they leave space — where familiar motifs intertwine with new contexts, whispering old questions and prompting reflection.

YOKO ONO: DREAM TOGETHER is an exhibition about how art can become an act of love, hope, and reciprocity. Here, every visitor becomes part of the process, and simple actions become keys to a new world. When I left, I felt that I carried a piece of that shared quiet strength with me — a strength capable of changing ourselves and the world around us.