Meanwhile, let’s avoid calling them immersive “exhibitions.” Federica Schneck says, rightly, that “they pass themselves off as exhibitions when they are shows.” What we call “immersive exhibitions,” of exhibitions have nothing. One can remain even on a merely objective level: they do not have the placement in a historical-critical discourse, they do not have the layered interpretive approach, they do not have the material memory, they do not have the timing, they do not have the curation, they do not have the encounter occasions of exhibitions proper. And the assumption applies to any comparison with “traditional” exhibitions, let’s put it this way: it applies whether we think of the interesting, profound, successful exhibitions or the sloppy, superficial ones that we regretted spending our ticket money on. Immersive exhibitions have nothing to do with exhibitions proper. The only thing they have in common is their subject matter. Otherwise, they fall into the realm of entertainment. Let’s call them, then, rather, “immersive shows.” Or perhaps, even better: “immersive shows.”
It came natural to me to think about the ontological differences between exhibitions and immersive shows while reading the intervention of Vincenzo Capalbo, who makes immersive exhibitions with his Art Media Studio, in the debate triggered by Schneck with his article. Capalbo says that “emotion is not the enemy of reflection.” And of course he has every reason in the world. I will say more: reflection is not compulsory when you leave an exhibition. Traditional or immersive as you like. One remains a more than respectable person even if one comes out of an exhibition without having learned anything, one can continue to be part of the civil consensus even if one admits to having visited an exhibition just for the pleasure of being moved in front of a work: it is more than legitimate to visit an exhibition and feel whatever one wants, from ecstasy to utter indifference, without thinking about anything, and anyone who believes that art must always, perforce, be a form of mass pedagogy is simply a fraud or, at best, is a mostly unconscious practitioner of a zdanovism out of time and history.
One can then stand firm on the level of pure emotion, which is an individual thing. And yet for so many, even on this level, immersive shows may miss the mark. Capalbo says that “immersive experiences seek to convey strong emotions, to create a visual, aural and perceptual relationship between the work and the viewer.” And isn’t that true of exhibitions made of authentic works? Where is the more? Is seeing a marquee with Van Gogh’s Night on the Rhone magnified and with moving water more exciting than being in front of the real work at the Musée d’Orsay? Is putting music in the background supposed to make the experience more exciting, given that even many museums that put on “traditional” exhibitions have long been moving in this direction? It will for some, certainly for a great many, but not for all. Indeed, some might say that, again, “immersive experiences” always have something less. They do not have the fragrant charm of exhibitions where one stands before a work painted two, three, five, eight centuries ago, where the eyes bolt on an image that is living product of the hands that made it, where the space between oneself and the work is the place of the encounter between us and the artist, is a time that includes time, is abyss over infinite possibilities. They do not live in the silence of an exhibition made of real works, but they invest you with lights, sounds, music, narratives without you being able to do anything to build your own exhibition, your own thought, your own space. They do not have to offer the possibility of an active exploration of an exhibition made of real works where I decide where to stop, what to explore, how long to make my itinerary last. So-called “immersive exhibitions” are a paean to passivity.
And again: so far so good. Everyone has the right to get excited where and how he or she pleases, everyone has the right to find a “traditional” exhibition too challenging and to find the passive tinkering of immersive shows more interesting: that’s fair enough. “Immersive exhibitions” are a completely different product than exhibitions made with real works, and it is for this reason that there are “serious museum directors” who are able to “get excited and turn into children at the amusement park in front of an immersive wall.” It is the same reason why a person listening to music can get lost inside the poetry of the Velvet Underground and enjoy when Haddaway’s What is love plays at a party. But the reverse is unlikely to work. I think the biggest misconception around “immersive exhibitions” lies in thinking of them as a bridge to a deeper understanding of art. Of course, one can remain on a superficial level, and one can say that many people, after seeing a movie based on a novel, then buy the book. If one can be satisfied in this way, then just stuff the venues of immersive exhibitions with books, but the relationship with art is a bit more complex than the film-book link: in 2008, the fiction on Caravaggio that aired on Rai1 was seen by six and a half million people, but I do not remember assaults on the Borghese Gallery or Palazzo Barberini or endless queues outside San Luigi dei Francesi. After that one can safely utter the usual phrase whereby “even if only one person has developed an interest in etc. etc.,” but the eventuality should, if anything, be branded as a side effect rather than as an indispensable building block or an achieved goal. Curiosity can arise from billions of different stimuli. Even Achille Lauro disguised as St. Francis at the Sanremo Festival a few years ago may have intrigued someone to go see the Upper Basilica in Assisi, but I do not think anyone thought of his performance as an engaging cultural experience.
As a result, I think we can stop telling ourselves the fairy tale that immersive exhibitions are a way to make otherwise unaccustomed audiences curious about art, the fairy tale that the foundation of immersive exhibitions rests on the irrepressible impulse to make available to the public, especially young audiences, an alternative route to art. Curiosity may be a desirable side effect, but it is not really the reason for these products. If so, someone explain to me why immersive exhibitions never move away from the usual familiar names: Van Gogh, Klimt, Frida Kahlo, Caravaggio, Impressionists, Leonardo da Vinci. How is it that the public’s curiosity has to be stimulated only on Van Gogh and Klimt and never on, say, Luca della Robbia or Bernardo Strozzi? The cases are two: either it is believed that everything outside the usual knowns is not worthy of interest (and, if so, the organizers of immersive exhibitions would turn out to be much more snobbish and elitist than those who criticize them), or behind the choices of those who organize immersive exhibitions there are logics that have more to do with marketing than with culture. And there would be no harm in admitting that. There is no need to flaunt cultural alibis; on the contrary, it would be fascinating, as well as culturally more interesting, to finally be able to read an organizer of immersive exhibitions claiming, in full legitimacy, the commercial and pop nature of his product, without wanting to surround it with a light it does not have. In pure Marinettian spirit, in the style of one who would have wanted museums destroyed, other than intrigued: "Come and see Van Gogh Experience Super Immersive Exhibition Alive to try to inhabit Van Gogh’s paintings, we give you what real paintings have never given you. We don’t give a damn if you don’t go to the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam afterwards. In fact: tear it down."
So I await an immersive exhibition that declares that it wants to see glorious old canvases floating adrift and aspires to demolish revered cities mercilessly. Let the immersion be total: I will be the first to applaud it. If, on the other hand, we believe in the goodness of the immersive show as a means and not as an end, I issue a challenge: the recent exhibition on Mazzolino, Ortolano, Garofalo and Dosso at the Palazzo dei Diamanti drew nearly 40,000 spectators. I expect then, as an alternative to the immersive exhibition that claims to want to throw paintings, sculptures and various old things overboard, a fine Garofalo Experience that will move the curiosity of the masses toward the painting of Benvenuto Tisi. He is a prolific artist and within everyone’s reach because his works are preserved in museums halfway across Italy. Again, I will be the first to clap my hands. To intrigue about Van Gogh all are good: try it with Garofalo.
Warning: the translation into English of the original Italian article was created using automatic tools. We undertake to review all articles, but we do not guarantee the total absence of inaccuracies in the translation due to the program. You can find the original by clicking on the ITA button. If you find any mistake,please contact us.
