The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth’s New Multi-Room Immersive Installation Pushes The Boundaries of What Art Can Be

The first time I encountered immersive art was in Marfa, Texas, in 2008. I had never before known that you could walk inside a piece of art. I entered School No. 6 by Ilya Kabakov and looked around an eerie, empty classroom. It felt as if something terrible had happened in this space: students had fled in a hurry, leaving relics behind. I felt as if I had entered the narrative itself — every chair, every chalkboard was fraught with meaning. During the same trip, I was gobsmacked by Ballroom Marfa’s Hello Meth Lab in the Sun by Jonah Freeman and Justin Lowe, which brought viewers inside a house where meth was seemingly being made and experienced. The installation was raw, gritty, and unflinching in its portrayal of chaos and decay. 

That day, I learned that immersive art doesn’t just show you a scene — it makes you part of it. Unlike traditional art, which is viewed from a distance and contained within the frame of a canvas or the boundaries of a pedestal, immersive installations transform an entire space. 

When I heard that Freeman and Lowe’s newest work, Sunset Corridor, was opening at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, I knew I needed to see it.

A Look Inside Sunset Corridor

Sunset Corridor is the latest chapter in Freeman and Lowe’s deep dive into the San San Universe, their fictional, retrofuturistic domain. The concept of San San draws from a theory put forth by Herman Kahn and Anthony Weiner in their 1967 book, The Year 2000, which speculated that San Diego and San Francisco would merge into a single sprawling metropolis by the turn of the twenty-first century. Although that vision never came to pass, it laid the groundwork for Freeman and Lowe’s creation — a parallel world that reflects and critiques modern-day reality. 

The exhibit is an intricate maze of interconnected zones, each with a unique atmosphere yet contributing to a broader narrative. One room resembles a worn roadside diner, complete with a jukebox playing distorted, eerie notes. Another feels like the abandoned lobby of a motel, complete with rotary phones and outdated magazines. The most striking element is the abandoned industrial park, once owned by IBM, now reimagined as the heart of an underground music scene. 

What stood out was the subtle shift in tone compared to their previous work. While Hello Meth Lab in the Sun confronted viewers with raw, chaotic destruction, Sunset Corridor feels more like an exploration of what comes after that chaos. The rooms don’t shout for attention; they invite you to pause and notice the details — the sticky surfaces of the diner, the lost knowledge of the faux library with its blank pages. This shift suggests a move from critique to contemplation, from the immediate intensity of Hello Meth Lab in the Sun to a more layered and nuanced approach.

Expanding Horizons

In the years since my first encounter with immersive art, I’ve seen how this form has grown and evolved. Meow Wolf in Grapevine, Texas, is an excellent example of this expansion. The interactive installation, known as The Real Unreal, brings together a kaleidoscope of storylines, characters, and experiences, enveloping visitors in a narrative where reality blurs with the fantastical. Walking through Meow Wolf’s labyrinth of rooms and discovering secret passages made me realize that immersive art could transcend the boundaries of a single narrative and create entire worlds to explore.

Freeman and Lowe’s Sunset Corridor, much like Kabakov’s School No. 6 and The Real Unreal, pushes the boundaries of what art can be. These artworks are stories, inviting us to step into them and, in doing so, reshape our understanding of memory, identity, and place.

As a novelist who creates worlds and invites readers to inhabit them, I am transfixed by Sunset Corridor, and can’t wait to see more immersive art installations in Texas.

Sunset Corridor runs through January 5, 2025.