Vincent van Gogh. Salvador Dalí. Frida Kahlo. Casual perusers of ads everywhere would be forgiven for thinking that art galleries are enjoying some sort of golden age. The truth is less exciting, more expensive and certainly more depressing. For this is no ordinary art on offer; this art is “immersive”, the latest lovechild of TikTok and enterprising warehouse landlords. The first problem with immersive art? It's not actually very immersive. A common trope of “immersive” retrospectives is to recreate original pieces using gimmicky tech. But merely aiming a projector at a blank canvas doesn’t do much in the way of sensory stimulation. My favourite element of an “immersive” show I have been to was their faithful recreation of Van Gogh’s bedroom. An ambitious feat, executed with some furniture and, of course, mutilated pastiches of his paintings. While projectors, surround sound and uncomfortably wacky seating are mainstays of immersive art, there are also the VR headsets. But many exhibitions don’t even include these with the standard ticket, so my return to reality has twice been accompanied by an usher brandishing a credit card machine. Sometimes these installations are so banal and depthless, visitors have often walked through installations entirely oblivious to whatever is happening around them. Despite the fixation “immersive experiences” have with novelty, the products of their labours are remarkably similar: disappointing light shows punctuated by a few gamified set pieces.

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