Twice now I have been burnt by the supposedly “immersive” installations constructed for this ground-floor space located on the O2 plaza just outside the North Greenwich tube stop (the first was the wildly overrated “Walala X Play”). Booking has been essential for both shows (free, through Eventbrite) due to “overwhelming demand”, yet both times I’ve attended, I’ve shared the floor with just a handful of people (leading me to believe that the organisers falsely and ingenuously seek to create a cult of success around the events, rather than letting popularity organically evolve from any intrinsic value and worth of the work itself, although weekends may see crowds gather). Ostensibly a lighthearted lab for the benefits of chromotherapy (as well as the healing  and creative properties of light and sound), multi-hued polyhedral shapes fill the room, hanging from the ceiling in a slow twist of rotation, others anchored at ground level, allowing a spectator to submerge the head inside for a cathartic bath of light, a carpet of triangular patterns underfoot (transitioning randomly from the solid to the spongy). Using Rudolph Laban’s theory of wellbeing as inspiration (positing the body as being a composition of the aforementioned geometrical shape, in constant threat of disablement from environmental pressures), the exhibition is structured to take the individual outside the assailed quotidian, and allow for a moment of awareness, offering a chance to breathe and synchronise with the restorative vibrations of the body. All well and good, but sophistication eludes the piece, and rather reminded me of being in a corridor of a primary school-visiting late into its run, the floor was quite careworn and tatty, earphones were not working (preventing me from listening to Natureboy’s bespoke soundtrack for the exhibition, an essential aspect of the experience absent), and the distracting natural light spilling in from the windows defeated full engagement with the structures (a problem the previous show shared). On both occasions, write-ups for the exhibitions have led to fervid expectations, unable to be matched by the mechanics of the actual, real-time experience. No doubt I will be convinced again, in hopes of the one day when expectations and reality will converge gloriously. Harmonics in Space closed on 29 April



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