From Kusama to the Classroom: A Love Letter to Immersive Learning
By Victoria (Tori Sparks) Sylvestre
From Kusama to the Classroom: A Love Letter to Immersive Learning
By Victoria (Tori Sparks) Sylvestre
There’s a special kind of magic that happens when art leaves the museum and steps into the heart of a classroom. For me, that magic came wrapped in dots—eternal, glowing, immersive dots—and the wild brilliance of Yayoi Kusama.
There’s a special kind of magic that happens when art leaves the museum and steps into the heart of a classroom. For me, that magic came wrapped in dots—eternal, glowing, immersive dots—and the wild brilliance of Yayoi Kusama.
During the height of COVID, when the world felt distant and digital, I brought Kusama’s Love is Calling and Infinity Rooms into our virtual classroom. I had just figured out how to green screen (thanks, Amazon green tablecloth), and I beamed myself into a Kusama installation. My middle schoolers were immediately obsessed. We critiqued, we questioned, we argued (the good kind), and we laughed. We wondered whether the sculptures were soft or hard, if the light came from inside or above, and why on earth it made us feel so much when looking at what were essentially giant polka-dotted tubers. We didn’t just look at Kusama’s work—we stepped into it.
During the height of COVID, when the world felt distant and digital, I brought Kusama’s Love is Calling and Infinity Rooms into our virtual classroom. I had just figured out how to green screen (thanks, Amazon green tablecloth), and I beamed myself into a Kusama installation. My middle schoolers were immediately obsessed. We critiqued, we questioned, we argued (the good kind), and we laughed. We wondered whether the sculptures were soft or hard, if the light came from inside or above, and why on earth it made us feel so much when looking at what were essentially giant polka-dotted tubers. We didn’t just look at Kusama’s work—we stepped into it.
Critique became our lifeline—an honest, messy, joyful process that gave students voice, agency, and the power to see themselves as thinkers and feelers in the art world. It was one of the most powerful things I’ve ever facilitated as a teacher. I still have the video. It holds that rare energy—students truly alive in the conversation, pushing past observation into interpretation and personal meaning.
Critique became our lifeline—an honest, messy, joyful process that gave students voice, agency, and the power to see themselves as thinkers and feelers in the art world. It was one of the most powerful things I’ve ever facilitated as a teacher. I still have the video. It holds that rare energy—students truly alive in the conversation, pushing past observation into interpretation and personal meaning.
And then, a year later, I found myself in that room.
And then, a year later, I found myself in that room.
SFMOMA. The real Love is in the Air. Me, my husband, and two of our sons stepping into that surreal dream space. I nearly cried. No green screen needed. Just the full-body, full-heart experience of being enveloped in her vision. The structures were soft—just like we guessed—with an inner frame glowing from within. I wanted to run back to my kids and say, “We were right! We were so right!” But they had graduated and moved on. Still, I carried them with me. Every dot, every mirrored glint, echoed with their questions and laughter.
SFMOMA. The real Love is in the Air. Me, my husband, and two of our sons stepping into that surreal dream space. I nearly cried. No green screen needed. Just the full-body, full-heart experience of being enveloped in her vision. The structures were soft—just like we guessed—with an inner frame glowing from within. I wanted to run back to my kids and say, “We were right! We were so right!” But they had graduated and moved on. Still, I carried them with me. Every dot, every mirrored glint, echoed with their questions and laughter.
This is why we do what we do. Not just to teach about art, but to make it real. To open doors to wonder, and sometimes, to walk through them ourselves.
This is why we do what we do. Not just to teach about art, but to make it real. To open doors to wonder, and sometimes, to walk through them ourselves.