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| An Escape Room Where You Can’t Escape Your Privilege | An Escape Room Where You Can’t Escape Your Privilege |
| (2 days later) | |
| I’m inside a room that feels simultaneously clinical and whimsical. Black, white and gray are the dominant colors. Positioned throughout the space are carefully crafted towers, boards, grids and other familiar objects — they look like oversize, slightly haywire versions of games from my childhood, including Connect Four, Battleship, Simon and Jenga. A question mark hangs in the air, though. I no longer know the rules, and new ones haven’t been provided. Doors and cabinets are locked. I’m joined by six other people, and we have 45 minutes — which are ticking away on a countdown clock — to figure out how to play in order to get out. | I’m inside a room that feels simultaneously clinical and whimsical. Black, white and gray are the dominant colors. Positioned throughout the space are carefully crafted towers, boards, grids and other familiar objects — they look like oversize, slightly haywire versions of games from my childhood, including Connect Four, Battleship, Simon and Jenga. A question mark hangs in the air, though. I no longer know the rules, and new ones haven’t been provided. Doors and cabinets are locked. I’m joined by six other people, and we have 45 minutes — which are ticking away on a countdown clock — to figure out how to play in order to get out. |
| We are in an escape room, a live-action game where a group of people must solve a series of puzzles to work their way out of a locked room or series of rooms within a given time. In many escape rooms, the back stories are elaborate: You are traveling through a broken space-time continuum. You are trying to avoid being buried alive. You are scrambling to save the world by shrinking yourself to the size of a mouse. | We are in an escape room, a live-action game where a group of people must solve a series of puzzles to work their way out of a locked room or series of rooms within a given time. In many escape rooms, the back stories are elaborate: You are traveling through a broken space-time continuum. You are trying to avoid being buried alive. You are scrambling to save the world by shrinking yourself to the size of a mouse. |
| In “The Privilege of Escape,” a new public art project by Risa Puno at Onassis USA, the escape room turns from a high-stakes thriller into a disarming demonstration of social inequality. Whether or not you succeed is largely beyond your control. The experience is still exhilarating, but can also be psychologically uncomfortable. | In “The Privilege of Escape,” a new public art project by Risa Puno at Onassis USA, the escape room turns from a high-stakes thriller into a disarming demonstration of social inequality. Whether or not you succeed is largely beyond your control. The experience is still exhilarating, but can also be psychologically uncomfortable. |
| Ms. Puno is the winner of the first open call by Creative Time, which has earned a reputation for its inventive approach to public art. Since the 1970s, the organization’s work has taken the form of performances and parades, banners and billboards — even a selection of photographs of life on Earth etched into a disc and launched into space. And whereas most public art tends to be physically static and stay on ideologically neutral ground, Creative Time has always engaged outright with political and social issues. | Ms. Puno is the winner of the first open call by Creative Time, which has earned a reputation for its inventive approach to public art. Since the 1970s, the organization’s work has taken the form of performances and parades, banners and billboards — even a selection of photographs of life on Earth etched into a disc and launched into space. And whereas most public art tends to be physically static and stay on ideologically neutral ground, Creative Time has always engaged outright with political and social issues. |
| That makes Ms. Puno’s project, which aims to playfully illuminate the concept of privilege, a good fit. It’s also encouraging to see Creative Time devoting substantial resources to the work of a lesser-known artist. (The open call was aimed at those “who have not yet received a public commission or substantial support from a major cultural institution.”) From 2007 to 2017, under the artistic stewardship of Nato Thompson, the organization leaned toward high-profile commissions by big-name artists like Kara Walker. “The Privilege of Escape” is the first project curated by the new executive director, Justine Ludwig, and it is promising. | That makes Ms. Puno’s project, which aims to playfully illuminate the concept of privilege, a good fit. It’s also encouraging to see Creative Time devoting substantial resources to the work of a lesser-known artist. (The open call was aimed at those “who have not yet received a public commission or substantial support from a major cultural institution.”) From 2007 to 2017, under the artistic stewardship of Nato Thompson, the organization leaned toward high-profile commissions by big-name artists like Kara Walker. “The Privilege of Escape” is the first project curated by the new executive director, Justine Ludwig, and it is promising. |
| The experience at Onassis USA unfolds beneath a big corporate atrium in a building off Fifth Avenue. It’s the perfect place to set a mock, nondescript institute, which is supposedly conducting a study for which I am a subject. When I arrive, an attendant in a lab coat greets me and asks, “Are you here for the test?” After registering the other participants for our session and dividing us into two groups, he brings us into an anodyne entry hall, where he briefs us on the rules. | The experience at Onassis USA unfolds beneath a big corporate atrium in a building off Fifth Avenue. It’s the perfect place to set a mock, nondescript institute, which is supposedly conducting a study for which I am a subject. When I arrive, an attendant in a lab coat greets me and asks, “Are you here for the test?” After registering the other participants for our session and dividing us into two groups, he brings us into an anodyne entry hall, where he briefs us on the rules. |
| The institute, he says, is “dedicated to the study of behavioral sciences” and considers “structured gameplay” a philosophical pillar of its work. Each group will enter a different room and have 45 minutes to complete an identical set of puzzles. Our progress will be observed and compared, and at the end we will reconvene for a brief analysis. As we position ourselves near the doors, a countdown rings out. Go! | The institute, he says, is “dedicated to the study of behavioral sciences” and considers “structured gameplay” a philosophical pillar of its work. Each group will enter a different room and have 45 minutes to complete an identical set of puzzles. Our progress will be observed and compared, and at the end we will reconvene for a brief analysis. As we position ourselves near the doors, a countdown rings out. Go! |
| Before I’ve had time to fully register our surroundings, someone in my group confidently unrolls what looks like a revamped Twister board (she’s clearly an escape room veteran, I think). Someone else picks it up and swiftly locates its proper spot in the room — in the process revealing a code. We try various locks, but they still won’t open. We redirect our attention to a corner with jumbo dice. After a bit of frantic interpreting, we discern another code, and this time it works! We excitedly open a cabinet to find … a set of round discs with symbols and colors on them. What do they mean? It’s fairly obvious where they’re supposed to go, but in what order? | Before I’ve had time to fully register our surroundings, someone in my group confidently unrolls what looks like a revamped Twister board (she’s clearly an escape room veteran, I think). Someone else picks it up and swiftly locates its proper spot in the room — in the process revealing a code. We try various locks, but they still won’t open. We redirect our attention to a corner with jumbo dice. After a bit of frantic interpreting, we discern another code, and this time it works! We excitedly open a cabinet to find … a set of round discs with symbols and colors on them. What do they mean? It’s fairly obvious where they’re supposed to go, but in what order? |
| This is how the time elapses: Each puzzle we solve leads to another one, each victory followed by more mystery. Occasionally a chime sounds and a clue from our overseers appears on a screen. The atmosphere is somewhat tense, especially toward the end, but also collaborative and congenial. I don’t know any of my teammates, but we’re riding a wave of adrenaline together. | This is how the time elapses: Each puzzle we solve leads to another one, each victory followed by more mystery. Occasionally a chime sounds and a clue from our overseers appears on a screen. The atmosphere is somewhat tense, especially toward the end, but also collaborative and congenial. I don’t know any of my teammates, but we’re riding a wave of adrenaline together. |
| Forty-one minutes and 13 seconds later, we emerge triumphant. The final code we cracked has gotten us out the door. It’s only when we finish, though, that we realize something is off. (Readers beware: A slight spoiler follows.) As we reunite with the second group, we discover that they didn’t escape in time — not because their members lacked skills or intelligence, but because of the room they were in. Simply put, they were forced to play with a major handicap, whose challenges they were unaware of because it was presented as part of the game. (When asked for feedback, someone from that group jokingly called the experience “hell.”) Meanwhile, we had the privilege of perfect conditions, which allowed us to achieve our full potential and escape. | |
| Throughout her career, Ms. Puno has used games as a means to consider human relations. In 2008 she built “The Course of Emotions,” a mini-golf course with holes based on negative feelings like jealousy and frustration. Earlier this year, she created “Risk Management,” an original carnival-inspired game that makes its players vulnerable to self-sabotage in their attempts to beat one another and win. For Ms. Puno, play spaces offer safe environments for pushing people to confront complex questions about how we interact. | Throughout her career, Ms. Puno has used games as a means to consider human relations. In 2008 she built “The Course of Emotions,” a mini-golf course with holes based on negative feelings like jealousy and frustration. Earlier this year, she created “Risk Management,” an original carnival-inspired game that makes its players vulnerable to self-sabotage in their attempts to beat one another and win. For Ms. Puno, play spaces offer safe environments for pushing people to confront complex questions about how we interact. |
| “The Privilege of Escape” continues this inquiry. The project is an observable and ultimately visceral demonstration of something that often goes unrecognized or dismissed because it operates invisibly. Members of dominant social groups tend to believe that society is a meritocracy; what we fail to see is that the playing field was never level to begin with. Ms. Puno visualizes this by staging a test that’s always rigged. If you’re placed in the disadvantaged group, it will be harder and more frustrating; if you’re afforded privilege, it will be easier and more fun. And just as with race, class, gender and ability, you don’t get to choose the group to which you belong. | “The Privilege of Escape” continues this inquiry. The project is an observable and ultimately visceral demonstration of something that often goes unrecognized or dismissed because it operates invisibly. Members of dominant social groups tend to believe that society is a meritocracy; what we fail to see is that the playing field was never level to begin with. Ms. Puno visualizes this by staging a test that’s always rigged. If you’re placed in the disadvantaged group, it will be harder and more frustrating; if you’re afforded privilege, it will be easier and more fun. And just as with race, class, gender and ability, you don’t get to choose the group to which you belong. |
| Given the liberal bent of the art-going crowd, this lesson won’t be an epiphany for many participants. But knowing something in theory is different from experiencing it firsthand. Here, in the safe, neutral territory of public art, Ms. Puno has created an opportunity to assume different identities and compare and contrast the outcomes with a certain level of dispassion. | Given the liberal bent of the art-going crowd, this lesson won’t be an epiphany for many participants. But knowing something in theory is different from experiencing it firsthand. Here, in the safe, neutral territory of public art, Ms. Puno has created an opportunity to assume different identities and compare and contrast the outcomes with a certain level of dispassion. |
| My one critique of “The Privilege of Escape,” which is impeccably designed and executed, concerns the decision to reveal the structural inequality at the end of the game. That timing turns it into more of a gotcha moment than a prompt for reflection or action. When I found out that my team had been given an advantage, I felt guilty, as if we had cheated — not an unreasonable reaction, but not a constructive one either, and the facilitated discussion that followed didn’t push me to consider the experience more deeply or critically. This is, I think, a missed opportunity. After all, the most pressing question regarding privilege isn’t “how does it make you feel?” but “what can you do about it?” | My one critique of “The Privilege of Escape,” which is impeccably designed and executed, concerns the decision to reveal the structural inequality at the end of the game. That timing turns it into more of a gotcha moment than a prompt for reflection or action. When I found out that my team had been given an advantage, I felt guilty, as if we had cheated — not an unreasonable reaction, but not a constructive one either, and the facilitated discussion that followed didn’t push me to consider the experience more deeply or critically. This is, I think, a missed opportunity. After all, the most pressing question regarding privilege isn’t “how does it make you feel?” but “what can you do about it?” |
| Risa Puno: The Privilege of Escape | Risa Puno: The Privilege of Escape |
| Through Aug. 11 at Onassis USA, 645 Fifth Avenue, Manhattan; creativetime.org. | Through Aug. 11 at Onassis USA, 645 Fifth Avenue, Manhattan; creativetime.org. |
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