This summer, I’ll be speaking at some thrilling events across Europe and Canada, continuing my series of talks on the deep roots of immersive art and its potential as a methodology for cultural organizations and artists working with traditional media.

There’s also plenty to see and experience—from the massively successful Venice Biennale curated by Carlo Ratti to art fairs, exhibitions, and festivals that embrace the immersive shift and present experimental digital works. I'm especially sad to miss Tribeca this year, which features a profound, American-focused selection curated in partnership with Onassis ONX and sponsored by Agog. I also wish I could clone myself to visit the reimagined VRHAM Biennale by Ulrich Schrauth and the omni talented Lilian Hess, author of Duchampiana (my favourite VR experience of the past season). Alas! Here’s what’s coming up next:

Big Thing by Immersive Arts, is the pilot edition of a multidisciplinary event led by the UWE Bristol team and curated by the ever-inspiring minds at Crossover Labs. I’m so excited to reunite with the UK community and see what Tom & co have been working on following the first round of artist grants distributed through the groundbreaking Immersive Arts program. You can still register and join some of the inspirational sessions taking place June 9-11

Straight from Manchester, England England, I’m headed to Sónar+D, where I’ll be sitting on an all-star panel, How to Future the Creative Industries, alongside Boris Magrini (LAS Art Foundation), Clara Montero (Tabakalera), Fabien Siouffi (Octobre Numérique Festival), Jurij Krpan (Kapelica Gallery), Heracles Papatheodorou (Onassis Foundation), Luís Fernandes (gnration), Salome Asega (New Museum), Tamar Clarke-Brown (Serpentine Galleries), Vicente Matallana (New Art Foundation), and Zaiba Jabbar (HERVISIONS).

I can’t wait to explore this year’s eclectic program focused on digital art and AI—especially since I’ll be heading to MUTEK shortly after, which pairs perfectly for anyone looking to dive deeper in convos about independent innovation in music and art. I’m especially excited to reconnect with so many friends coming to Barcelona, including some of my favorite female voices in the space: Libby Heaney, Salome Asega, May Abdalla

Jordan Wolfson, Little Room (2025)

In the final part of June, Art Basel Basel is a perfect opportunity to discover a new exhibition at Fondation Beyeler called Little Room by Jordan Wolfson. Somehow, as I'm counting days to see it, I can't stop thinking about the acclaimed mixed media installation by Ayoung Kim at the Hamburger Bahnhof, and especially one of the exhibits called Ghost Dancers, where the artist integrated mini screens inside motorbike helmets suspended in the air using bundles of black cables—bringing to mind both Alien and Medusa, as well as a creepy sensation of a digital body turned inside out. A haunting and profound moment.

Ayoung Kim, Ghost Dancers A (2022)

Same weekend—I wish I could be there! Le Pavillon by KIKK Galaxy in Namur is opening the second chapter of our show Other Worlds Are Possible, with seven new video and VR installations. Some works reach for a truly cosmic scale to explore inner landscapes—both physical and spiritual—like Evolver, a meditative, multisensory take on the breathing body guided by the voice of Cate Blanchett (first-ever public presentation of the single-user version of the VR experience by MARSHMALLOW LASER FEAST), or The Great Filter, a monumental video installation by the stunning emerging Taiwanese artist Wen-Yee Hsieh (Wen-Yee adapted our original NYC infinity room edition to a five-by-three-meter single channel video installation). Others confront us with the ongoing violence of the real world, such as Traveling While Black, a documentary dive into American racial memory by the legendary Canadian studio Felix & Paul Studios (I still consider it the best documentary made in virtual reality), or Over the Rainbow, a sombre and playful, David Lynchian reflection on desire and the illusion of control by Craig Quintero and his ensemble at the Riverbed Theatre Company in Taipei. If you still haven’t been to Namur, this summer is your chance to see what we’ve built (more on this here)

Wen-Yee Hsieh, The Great Filter (2024)

Early July is going to be dedicated to the cross-section of performing arts and immersive tech, where during the Avignon theatre festival I’ll be representing the Jury for Prix SNSV—a fantastic program led by Dark Euphoria, thanks to which I’ve already discovered brilliant new works by directors and choreographers integrating various forms of technological intervention into their practice.

Dark Euphoria (Marie Point Mathieu Rozières William Board) is a well-known expert in this area. From their HQ in the south of France, and through collaborations with various theatre organizations as well as the Festival d’Avignon, they are paving the way for an in-depth conversation on the future of augmented performance (check out their recent show No Reality Now by Charles Ayats).

Come join us for a rosé if you're around – I’m also hopping over to Arles after Avignon to shed a few happy tears while looking at E.A.T at Luma like I'm 20 again, and celebrate the 15th anniversary of Fotografiska.

Here’s a quick note on what I’m bringing to some of those dialogues, with additional reads linked in the text body. Hope to see you at one of the stops x

THE GREAT SHIFT

The promise of the technology that we use daily is always the same — to bring people together. Every big tech company says that and introduces design elements that imitate human connection. The reality of technology that we use daily is that it often creates an illusion or a facsimile of togetherness in order to sustain its users within an extractive environment (think X). Someone once pointed out that we use the word 'users' for technology in the same way we use it for people dependent on alcohol or drugs.

Now, that might sound pretty Matrix-y, but the positive side of that process is that artists and curators — critical thinkers who are always looking for a crack in the wall — are taking a critical outlook on all this, the same way that great digital artists of the 20th century were looking at surveillance, and identity through the lens of technology. They introduce projects and initiatives that not only show the two-faced nature of this phenomenon but also use the same techniques to create powerful works of contemporary critique. I’m thinking about teamLab’s The World of Irreversible Change as one example. You may know teamLab for their famous digital flowers and cascades, but they’ve used the same techniques to create a lesser-known, brilliant, and dark critique of consumerism; an experience that uses the very tools of entertainment to lure you into a trap of greed and destruction.

Immersive art as critique or activism will only be possible, of course, if we don’t give up on this new territory, assuming that it belongs entirely to mass entertainment. We need independent, sharp voices on the immersive art scene — and we need smart institution leaders who can tell the difference between temporary trends and deep changes in how people, their audience members and customers, experience culture and reality.

We should build trust and spaces of exchange between traditional structures, artists, and people who bring new ideas to the conversation on new means to reach audiences. We should talk more about this moment in the history of postmodern culture because it is a moment of an important shift. The art market, the language of art, and the rituals around participation in culture are changing, and seeing beyond the noise is essential. It’s not only about maintaining quality and relevance but mainly about making sure that we are doing what is truly our task: critically reflecting on issues and phenomena that are crucial for society. That is the role of culture makers. We need to ask ourselves how to avoid becoming obsolete. Technological development and social changes are putting this question in front of us every single day. Being a custodian of past legacies now demands more effort than ever, especially to protect them from the challenges that lie ahead.

WHAT MAKES IMMERSIVE ART SPECIAL

Immersive creation doesn’t have one single genealogy. It’s not just another era in the history of digital art. It feeds from multiple bloodlines and genealogies: fine arts, theatre, film, internet art. It is unique because of the sense of presence it creates — and the embodiment if you use XR or spatial audio – and a first-person perspective. You are not only a privileged viewer, but the main protagonist of the work. Immersive art is always about you.

Sense of presence and embodiment change a lot about how we react to the work. Research points to the fact that we memorize VR experiences differently, which is related to the slogan that used to be popular some ten years ago about VR as “an empathy machine.” Many professionals find this to be an overstatement – there is no real proof that VR stimulates empathy. But this concept used to make waves and brought many great people to VR who were interested in its social impact potential.

There is a lot about immersive works tapping into the legacy of different disciplines like theatre, music, and film, which of course leads to the evergreen conversation on the total work of art — a representation of 21st-century Gesamtkunstwerk. When you think about what Marco Brambilla called “the culture of excess,” you can’t help but think about the concept of total art and how, in reality, it goes against the spiritual, transformative role of art. How it celebrates the need for an experience that will put an end to your creative and emotional hunger once and for all. One experience to rule them all. A master ritual – a spectacle so big you can’t think of anything bigger. That kind of hybris represents our late capitalism and its tight-knit relationship with big tech. It’s both terrifying and fascinating, and even if we’re unconvinced, we keep coming back for more.

Then there is the meta-potential of the immersive medium, where tools used in the making of the work add meaning to the work. A digital equivalent of architecture parlante. Marshmallow Laser Feast (MARSHMALLOW LASER FEAST) is using point cloud technology to represent data through which you can meditate on vital processes that underlie the whole life on Earth. Their artworks, set in a forest or inside a human breathing system, take you inside a non-realistic universe to contemplate the rhythm of the natural world we have so many problems accessing. They translate the mystical nature of the Ceiba pentandra, an Amazonian tree, into data, and then transform that data into digital imagery, enveloping you in a secular homage to a world we've lost access to.

ScanLab (ScanLAB Projects) on the other hand, is using a highly photorealistic technique of 3D LiDAR scanning, where as a result you can observe in high speed an entire lifespan of a landscape, a plant, or a city. You are granted privileged access to a perspective that is reserved for timekeepers. You see the invisible from the perspective of gods who rule in the underground. Their installations are for me like a walk in a graveyard. The technological infrastructure they choose speaks, just as physical architecture does through its principles and materials.

Finally, the potential of immersive lies in the fact that it’s an inherently generous medium. You become part of a world where someone is waiting for you. You are an actor in a performance in which the director is taking his best care of you. How often do you feel this way in an art gallery?

ScanLab Projects, Framerate: Rhythms Around Us (2024)