I am in
Outernet

Feeling grumpy
snarky

Outernet
Is that video room when you come out of
Tottenham Court Road station

It describes itself as:
“an immersive entertainment district
in the heart of London
where communities come together
to enjoy culture in breathtaking new ways.”

Outernet is
A jewel
Somewhere bright and forward facing
at the very centre of the city
An emblem of modern London

So why do I hate it
Why am I
Allergic to what is evidently bringing joy to thousands

I look at the faces that surround me
Smiling, enthralled
And I realise
I am the problem
Therefore I decide to stay a while longer
Sit with it and
attempt to see what they see

Because my alienation is not just with Outernet
For some time I have felt alienated
from the city in which I live
And Outernet
In all its hashtag sanitised data harvesting
commercialised face recognising ultra HD reality
Is just the way London is now

Elephant & Castle
King’s Cross
Nine Elms

Outernet is part of
An Aspirational city
Where bylaws and security guards
Ensure everything remains
As perfect as a digital rendering

If This then is the new reality of London
I’d better get used to it
Or risk my alienation
Curdling to bitterness
and isolation

One emerges from Tottenham Court Road Station
Straight into Outernet

No bag checks
No price tag
No app you have to download
To pre-book a timeslot
No hushed silences
No officious invigilators
There aren’t even walls

Outernet truly brings people to art
And as Outernet is somewhere that people tend to go
For the space
It allows chance encounters
With art

These are often the most formative
Experiences with art
To be exposed to
Something new
Potentially unusual
Is likely to have a more lasting impression
Than encountering art
With which you are already familiar

So why am I so cynical

Is it because I’m too old
I suppose
Is it because I’m too old
Is one of those questions
If you have to ask it
The answer is yes

Cities are nostalgia
We hark after another era
Usually one that finished just before our arrival
That was the last time the city
Was any good
When it was really real

Growing up
the bane of my life
Has been old punks
Banging on about their squats
their dole
their cheap living
How raw and exciting the city was back then
while today they benefit
From their monied, propertied and established status
In culture

But I’m 41
and I wonder
What even was here before Outernet?

I remember
the Astoria
the 12 Bar
An incarnation of the Intrepid Fox
Nestled in a concrete island at the foot of Centre Point
It was a dirtier London
Compared to the radiant oasis here before me
But isn’t dirty and grubby
The truth of this damp engorged town

But look at it Now striving for an airport gloss
In place of the Astoria
@sohoplace glows in the dark
The once paint-stained floors of St Martin’s College
Are Foyles
And the foot of centre point
Is a glassy centre of corporate dining

While the city is ravaged by inequality
While Public services, infrastructure, housing fall apart
We are presented these jewels
To seduce
That use us to advertise through social media
That everything is just fine

Then there are
Jubilees and coronations
To raise spirits
a brief high
until next morning at 7.59
You call the GP
On hold for 40 minutes
To be told there are no appointments

The likes of Outernet then
Are moments of relief
From Austerity Britain
In which we
Submit to the awe of technology
And enter a realm for dreaming
A fantasy land that transports viewers
To our digital future

A future that is not a threat

Bathed in space-age drones
soothing video-art tones
There is no blanket quite as seductive
As ultra HD
we gaze
into
A Kaleidoscope of
Crystalline shimmers
Snowflakes

Humans have always been drawn
To bright and shiny things

in
2003
Olafur Eliasson
Brought a giant sun
To Tate Modern
It was the first time
I’d noticed
Not the blockbuster exhibition
But the blockbuster destination
Lovers of art came in search of
the profound
And As you entered the Turbine Hall
The giant ball was God
The turbine hall
vast and overreaching
a cathedral

Outernet is like a cathedral too
We gaze up
Over the bodies competing down here
to the tall walls and ceiling high above
a space unpolluted by humans

Some even lie down To take it in
Their backpacks as pillows
Why not
London isn’t an easy city
You need places for a breather
So go ahead
Lie down
scroll on your phone
While Outernet scrolls beyond
enjoy
A few minutes reprieve
From the city
From the summer
From family

People would lie on the concrete floor
Before Olafur’s sun
absorbing not only its light
But its profundity
2003
20 years ago
A time before smartphones

Today at Tate Modern
Yayoi Kusama’s Infinity Mirrored Room
Is the infinite blockbuster
Refracted infinite times
In selfies seen
On infinite feeds
More crystalline shimmers
More dazzle

While in Outernet The glitchy kaleidoscope
Mirrors the fidgety rustle of the area

It is One of the great confluences
Of London
The arsehole of Oxford Street

under construction
For so long
A site of road closures
Demolition
scaffolding
Tottenham Court Road has been for years
An ordeal to arrive at
And To pass through
But finally
Streets are reopening
Squares are revealing themselves
There are even public benches
it’s becoming a place that breathes a little
Where human flow is not impeded and diverted

Outernet is one of
Those cultural spaces
crowbarred in to groundfloor units
Of luxury newbuilds

Is this Artswashing
A Means to transfer the public sphere
Into a multi-use events space

But then
Privatised public spaces
Hardly seem worth
Querying
In 2023

When All public space must be commercial
and event-ready
at least art is less nefarious
Than it being a room full of adverts
Those go on the exterior of Outernet

art has always been a hustle
A way to find room and make opportunities
it’s how culture survives

And here at least it is Not invisible art
It is not politely insignificant
Like a window-display exhibition
Not niche
Like a studio theatre
This art is epic
And it is immersive

I wonder about the infatuation with the immersive
Is it a result of the social-media induced
arms race
To experience life at its fullest
To consume the best most ultimate
steak frites in Paris
Slice in new York
Crumble pie in London

immersive art places us
At the very centre
the recent Hockney and Van Gogh experiences
Put us in a place where
We consume it all
And it consumes us

An orgasm of experience
that makes us feel new
alive
Feel part of the city

In London you can step up to
Any number of old masters
Caravaggio, Da Vinci, Rembrandt
But that is not the art of our time
In Outernet we behold our masters.