Immersive art (pt.1)

Interweaving music, movement, sculpture and light

What is (great) immersive art?

I often immediately think of the Van Gogh or Klimt experiences that tour the world these days. Massive projection rooms of their paintings with soundscapes and bean bags. Have you been to one? I’ve avoided them so far. Partly because they are so expensive but mostly because I adore both artist’s work and worry that the experience will strip them of their magic for me and leave me cold. Why is this? Why do I recoil so much from digital attempts to bring audiences into the artist’s world? My instinct is that these exhibitions are entertainment not ‘true’ immersion, but that’s probably me being a purist. Feel free to come back @ me on this!

Birmingham Museum of Art

The thing is, when I think further on the nature of immersive art, what I truly want from this are encounters that engage full-body senses and emotions in ways that speak profoundly to (and possibly even alter) our being-humanness. Not just temporarily but fundamentally. Is that too much to ask!? Probably, but I want art that immerses mind, body and soul not just dips a toe in and out. The Ai generated summary at the top of my google search says that immersive art:

“…uses technology, like light and sound, to create experiences where the audience is surrounded by the artwork, blurring the lines between spectator and participant. It's a way to experience art in a multi-sensory way, often with elements like soundscapes, projections, and even virtual reality to enhance the feeling of being "inside" the artwork.”

I often wonder what Van Gogh and Klimt would think of these presentations. Would they feel that they articulate the nuance, depth, texture and soul-searching qualities of their creative endeavours? Could that even be possible to convey, even in a small way? Especially Van Gogh, whose work was so much inspired by the natural, wild world. Can a room with four walls bring this aliveness to life?

What is key to the immersive art experience is that the viewer is placed at the centre of the work. But also, does this need to be taken literally? There are so many other ways of enveloping audiences, and I guess so much of my practice right now is about me trying to figure out how. From wild drawing to exhibitions to installations and now, performance…

Stilled to a state of awe

One of the most powerful exhibitions I have ever seen, that stays with me today, was incredibly simple. The audience is still placed in the centre but the experience offers space for a different quality of attentiveness, rather than the bamboozlement of current popular styles of immersive art.

Janet Cardiff’s Forty Part Motet stunned me when I happened across it in Paris years ago. I stayed in the gallery for what must have been an hour; it’s subtlety and elegance stilled my body to a state of awe. Essentially, it is an installation of forty speakers conveying the different vocal components of a performance of “Spem in Alium” by Thomas Tallis 1573. The voices of the performers create a sculpture of sound, which visitors can move through. In-between performances, we hear vocalists chatting to one another, rustling papers, warming vocal chords and, honestly, is like no other experience of chorus music (which is not normally my bag); it brings you into the music from the viewpoint of the singers through a curious, gentle dance between embodiment and disembodiement.

The elegance and intimacy with which the sound connects the human body through this piece of work was evident by the number of visitors that stayed in that gallery long after the first cycle of play. Here is a film of Cardiff talking about the making of this installation

I think this piece has stayed with me so long because it struck a chord with an emerging desire I felt to share my practice in ways that connect with the awe I feel for my subject (nature, always) and the physical, real, tangible experience of the human undertaking; the imperfections intrinsic to the labour of love. And also because it was courageous in it’s generosity of the space that surrounded the work. It didn’t fuss, there were no jazz hands; it was what it was and nothing more. I felt the palpable power in that, and the permission to be fully present in the space, while letting the sound move me. In my opinion, the best immersive experiences are not those that momentarily distract us from the real world, but somehow deepen our presence within it. Being honest about the space. Tuning into the body. Allowing room to breathe, reflect, slowly open to the experience.

Stand of the Sun

It has been a while since I encountered Forty Part Motet but in two weeks time, my first foray into exploring these intentions goes live in the beautiful, wooded grounds of Orleans House Gallery in Twickenham, London. It happens on 21 June 2025, 8pm - 9:45pm (performance starting at 8:30pm). Will you join me there?

Stand of the Sun: A solstice ritual for the melting metropolis is my bringing together different creative practices - dance, music, sculpture, light - to open up my creative wonderings and wanderings as I consider the human relationship to the sun during an age of climate breakdown. Specifically, it is inspired by and builds on my work with University of Liverpool and Queens College NY environmental history researchers, which I introduced last year in this post. The project is called Melting Metropolis - read more about the research focus here.

My intention with this piece is to create an-immersive-as-possible experience while keeping the work grounded in the real, tangible world, holding space for quiet reflection alongside rich moments of multidisciplinary expression. It was important to me that it is held outside, beyond climate control. In fact, we are distinctly not in control in this matter! Different frequencies of light and sound will wrap around audiences that sit outside on grass and ground, under the golden hour of solstice. Performers will travel through a partially transparent sculpture that I created earlier this year called My Body is a Sundial (more on this here) and move throughout and around the audience.

My Body is a Sundial, photo by Ewelina Ruminska

The sun, in whatever manner it arrives that day - concealed by cloud or holding court in a clear sky - will participate in different qualities of shadow play, refraction and reflections. And as it sets, a story will unfold. One that travels through my own experience of cities growing too hot, and of grappling with the complexities of our dependency upon an entity so far away and alien to us yet increasingly deadly by its proximity, as our world holds onto its heat. But this story is also one of reconnection. It is an imagination exercise that audiences are invited to participate in. We hear and feel the sun on solstice night, urging us to recover ancient cycles, patterns and reverence for our closest star. It empathises with us, as a being also trapped within our cities and a body also over-used as fuel for systems exhausting Earth. Through music and movement, the sun rages and grieves and rejoices with the human as the longest day of the year draws to a close.

My Body is a Sundial, photo by Ewelina Ruminska

Stories embedded in subconscious

What has been particularly nourishing for me in this project has been the opportunity to work with creatives that work in different mediums. I have adored watching how a story that began through my own drawing and painting has been carried beyond the two-dimensional, and deepened through their unique ways of connecting with it. Here is short reel of painting/artist studio R&D:

studiobryonyella

A post shared by @studiobryonyella

(Cello: Kieran Daniel, Steel pan: Carlene Etienne, Drums: Pharoah Russell, Flute: Clare Hirst, Vocals: Emmanuele Clem, Composer: Bumi Thomas)

Finding myself immersed in musical rehearsals has been spine-tingling, as the melodies of steel pan interweave with the depth of cello, picked up by the eeriness of the ngoni and the lightness of flute, in turn activated by the thrum of drums before being grounded by the healing frequencies of sound bowls. Not to mention the achingly beautiful harmonies of vocalists who have brought me close to tears on numerous occasions! Watching dancers workshopping how to articulate complex human emotions, how we can hold more than one state simultaneously and how to embody human-nature interconnectedness has illuminated aspects of this story for me that up to know had been deeply embedded in my subconscious. And, observing sunlight pouring through the sculpture, picking out textures and shapes I had not noticed before and pouring shadows to the ground that grow and shrink throughout the day and how, in response, the lighting designer is working with such humility and respect for the sun (Original Light Bringer) while researching how to integrate the healing properties of light has been sublime.

Shadows, My Body is a Sundial, photo by Ewelina Ruminska

Here is a short audio clip from an early rehearsal in the grounds of Orleans House Gallery:

(Cello: Kieran Daniel, Steel pan: Carlene Etienne, Percussion: Cosimo Keita, Composer: Bumi Thomas)

Experimenting, healing, interweaving

Stand of the Sun is my experimenting with different ways in which I can support audiences to feel part of the stories behind my 2D work, not just the work itself. How far I can extend the invitation to reconcile and heal in nature, as nature, with nature.

Music is such a central part of my creative practice. I’m always listening to something while painting, finding it helps me to clarify or amplify the narratives I am exploring. But LIVE music is something else! The vibrations are so powerful, seeping into our very being-ness and, sometimes, oftentimes, I find the memory lingers long afterwards. It can also be healing, engaging the parasympathetic nervous system and relaxing our animal fight / flight impulses, or activating us to dance to release tension and feel the joy of self-expression and shared movement with others. Likewise, different wavelengths of light alter bodies on a cellular level; we have a long history of healers and medical practitioners working with the healing properties of light. And dance - well….! So much of my drawing and painting practice is a dance, really. Full-bodied, sensory-led gestures and movement across panels of glass, canvas and paper. It seemed clear to me that dance would need to be an intrinsic part of bringing Stand of the Sun to life on solstice night.

Free experiences

I will likely write more soon on this project as I reflect on the process. But with less than two weeks to go and rehearsals to travel to this Sunday, I’ll close for now by encouraging those of you who can make it to book your tickets as they’re going fast. It’s free by the way! Have I mentioned this? (Another important quality when offering public art, wherever possible. Let us remove as many barriers as we can.)

Here’s a reminder of the booking link: https://www.ticketsource.co.uk/richmond-arts-service/t-rpkmqmz

I really hope to see you there; I would love to hear your reflections as I dive deeper into what immersive art looks, feels and sounds like from an embodied ecology perspective. I’m not claiming to have found the secret to great immersive art by any stretch of the imagination! but I am enjoying the process of figuring out what that means to me and hoping that these experiments might resonate with you too.

B