One of the most prominent exhibits in New York was featured at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) this summer. The exhibit, entitled “Rain Room,” was an installation developed by a contemporary art group known as Random International. The piece was exhibited in a large black room with a single light shining from the back wall. The meat of the artwork was an inner square of rain. Inside the “Rain Room,” patrons are invited to step into the rain. There they can feel the moisture in the air, see the rain rushing past them and hear the sound of it trickling, but as the viewer moves, the sensors in the immediate vicinity sense the motion, and the rain around you ceases.
The exhibit drew thousands of curious patrons; the wait on an average weekday ranged from four to six hours. While there was no official time restraint within the exhibit, MoMA requested that visitors be courteous to other patrons by only staying in the exhibit for 10 minutes. Clearly, the exhibit was a huge draw for the museum and most likely a financial success, but was it art? Or perhaps the more pressing question is, was it good art?
The standards of art are complicated, convoluted and even elitist, so I will not try to impose them on this piece. But bear with me in understanding the shortcomings of this experience. “Rain Room” was an endearing idea, allowing viewers to feel as though they were in control of the rain. Random International wanted to play with the imaginations and desires of the participants, to let them feel in control of the uncontrollable. Where the “Rain Room” failed, however, was in the execution of the experience, which should have been the most integral part of the installation.
“Rain Room” was treated as a backdrop to a cool Instagram moment #RainRoom #MoMA #Instagood. Imagine a room full of people standing around taking selfies, and you can understand why the piece had little to no impact. The flashing of cameras and tourists asking for you to take their photo contributed to an experience that felt posed. At one point during the exhibition. a couple got engaged in the “Rain Room,” officially marking the piece as a gimmick rather than a serious experiential installation. Ultimately the piece was a tourist attraction, leaving viewers with nothing more than a contrived and plastic experience. It would have benefited the exhibit greatly if the MoMA had made a no-camera policy in order to preserve the integrity of the exhibit. The situation seemed analogous to trying to look at a painting within a museum, but because of a crowd of people all equipped with cameras, being unable to get a good view.
Perhaps we just live in an age where to experience anything, including art, we have to do so through our phones. One patron, Jordana Burstein, suggested that perhaps “Rain Room” “became perverted through human interaction. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, it’s more like showing the truth of our society.” Art evolves within the context in which it is exhibited, especially when a piece relies on the viewer’s participation. Even so, I would suggest that if you want to play in the rain without getting wet, just buy an umbrella and wait for a storm.