INTERVIEWED BY SASKIA RIVER FOR UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. Los Angeles 2025

 

Emilio Medina Abenoza is a creative consultant and project director with extensive international experience developing exhibitions and cultural strategies that bridge art, science, and technology. His work focuses on creating impactful, immersive experiences that go beyond visual spectacle to foster critical thinking and social connection. 

S.R. How would you describe the core differences between immersive experiences and traditional fine art exhibitions, in terms of intent and audience engagement?

We’re talking about two different mediums and formats. And in my opinion, they are complementary. The original work of an artist will always prevail over its immersive or digital version, but that doesn’t mean the latter cannot also be a high-level artistic expression. To draw a parallel: think of a literary work we’ve enjoyed reading that was later adapted into a film. That film might have disappointed us, pleased us, or even amazed us. They are different mediums, one based on the other. And the same goes for audiences: some people rarely read, yet they watch a lot of films and deeply enjoy them—while also forming an idea of the script, the original author, etc., and sometimes even end up reading the book.

The same happens with new digital formats. An immersive exhibition or show, if well-structured and thoughtfully conceived, can reach a broad audience—people who might not have the background or education to contemplate a painting, understand its intention, or know the artist’s life story. I even believe it can spark the visitor’s curiosity about the original works.

In any case, there will always be an audience for both mediums. And without a doubt, classical museums—just as they already produce excellent documentaries about a painting or an artist—will also adopt new immersive technologies (AR, VR, mapping) to help audiences better understand their collections. In fact, museums such as the Metropolitan in New York, the Prado in Madrid, the Cleveland Museum of Art, and many others already incorporate interactive digital elements—and in some cases, immersive ones—into their cultural offerings.

In general, immersive experiences seek a more total engagement from the visitor: physical, emotional, and in some cases, intellectual. Traditional exhibitions, by contrast, have emphasized contemplation, interpretation, and the historical or conceptual context of the works. The intention behind immersive formats tends to be more immediate, even visceral: feeling before thinking. But as I’ve explained, that doesn’t make them inherently superficial—though it does change the pace of engagement with the public. In many immersive projects, the viewer ceases to be passive: they move, interact, sometimes even intervene. That physicality can create a more intense connection, though it also runs the risk of becoming an empty spectacle if there isn’t a clear artistic or curatorial intention behind it.

S.R. What do you think is fueling the rapid growth of immersive experiences—technology, social media, post-pandemic shifts in behavior, or something else?

It’s certainly the result of a convergence of factors. But it’s a trend that has been building for some time, strongly supported by constant technological innovation. Today, anyone can access extraordinary content online, and social media has turned visual experience into a kind of symbolic capital. Young people grow up playing PlayStation and exploring 3D worlds, so the appeal of a 4D immersive experience—something that goes beyond what you can get at home—is understandably strong. These formats are especially attractive to audiences seeking emotional engagement through all the senses.

And yes, the pandemic intensified our desire for in-person, sensory experiences that make us feel alive and connected. But beyond that, I believe we’re witnessing a deeper shift in how we relate to knowledge, art, and space. Since the early 21st century, there’s been growing demand for multisensory, time-based, and participatory experiences—something we see reflected in the most forward-thinking museums and cultural centers, in educational models that help students grasp content more intuitively, and even, in some experimental cases, in psychological therapy.

In that sense, immersion responds to an emotional—almost existential—need, more than to a fleeting trend.

S.R. Critics often describe immersive experiences as more spectacle than substance. How do you respond to that, and what do you see as the artistic or cultural value of these projects?

If we look back, every time a new format emerges, it is met with criticism—criticisms that ultimately prove sterile. When photography appeared, critics said it could never be considered art. When silent cinema emerged, the theater world claimed those actors weren’t real performers. When sound cinema took over, the silent film world scoffed at the lack of expressiveness. And yet, in the end, all of it came to be recognized as art and culture—each in its own right and to varying degrees.

In the same way, to the traditional categories of Art History (painting, sculpture, architecture, decorative arts, etc.), we’ve gradually added others: photography, cinema, infographics, design, fashion, advertising, dance, theater, comics, graffiti, net art, and more. We cannot dismiss immersive experiences in advance, denying their place in Visual Culture. From this perspective, an interdisciplinary approach to visual phenomena contributes to the best of art historical tradition while also introducing new perspectives linked to the collective imagination.

Our visual culture, above all, is made up of images created and manipulated by humans—past and present—infused with meaning and intention. A painting or sculpture can be good or bad, just like any other artistic expression.

The criticism that excludes immersive experiences from the realm of art is misguided. These formats can create spaces for aesthetic and emotional exploration—poetic, or even transformative. They offer a new way of engaging with art, through a different lens, and generate cultural affinity with audiences who often don’t feel addressed by traditional art forms.

S.R. These experiences are sometimes criticized for being more about visual spectacle or Instagrammable moments than artistic depth. How do you respond to that perception?

Of course, and as we’ve discussed, we’re talking about a visual spectacle—that’s the point—and about elevating it to the category of art and giving it artistic depth, though obviously from a very different perspective. In my case, given my experience, I’m familiar with and enjoy both formats. Looking at a painting or an original artwork is a more introspective, calm, and reflective exercise—a very personal pleasure that focuses on a single sense: sight. In that sense, it can be considered more profound.

But I also consider the sensations produced by certain architecture, certain films, and of course, some immersive artistic productions to be profound as well. It’s true that, as in cinema or literature, most immersive productions—like traveling exhibitions—are very commercial, but that doesn’t mean the format itself, still in its early stages, cannot reach great artistic depth. Good examples are the Danish artist Olafur Eliasson, for his work with light and space, or the Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama, whose installations alter our perception of self and space.

As for the “Instagrammable” aspect: one thing is the behavior shaped by our society, and another is the intrinsic nature of an immersive experience. Curiously, and contrary to what one might think, our smartphones tend to capture more images of classical artworks than of immersive experiences, where our senses are more engaged in perceiving through all five senses the sensory nature of the experience itself. In any case, most immersive venues now include a designated spot for the obligatory selfie.

With this, I want to make clear that, in my opinion, it’s a rather childish debate. Human beings have always sought beauty, emotion, or even escape through art. The real question is whether the experience leaves us in a passive state, or invites us to think, imagine, and converse.

S.R. Do you see these experiences as complementary to traditional museums or as an alternative cultural offering with a fundamentally different purpose?

As I mentioned earlier, I see them as entirely complementary and enriching. They are both. It can be both an incentive and a challenge for museums, in terms of rethinking how to present content and connect with their audiences. And it also lights a lamp for immersive shows in their challenge to cultivate rigor and reach high cultural artistic standards. In fact, I think that both museums and creators of immersive experiences nourish each other. They coexist and will continue to coexist, and it's good that it should be so. Museums should not feel threatened, but rather challenged: it's an opportunity to evolve, collaborate, and redefine their role in this new cultural ecosystem.

S.R. Looking ahead, how do you think immersive experiences will continue to shape people's interactions with art and culture?

I think we are about to witness a revolution in art and visual culture, linked to the changes in our society driven by AI. In this sense, these experiences will delve into new technologies like VR, AR, MR, data, new narratives, and we will begin to blur the boundaries between artistic disciplines, between the digital and the physical, between the spectator and the creator. New sensory environments. The big challenge is maintaining the depth of art and critical thinking in a society that simplifies and scales everything. I believe immersive experiences will gain ground in the art world, coming to hold a dominant role. But I also hope and wish to continue coexisting with the more traditional arts.

Saskia River. Los Angeles, 2025.