Fusing art, myths and foresight – in the digital and physical spheres

My work fuses art, myths and foresight to question the future of our world, with a particular focus on Africa and the Global South.

An interview with Pierre-Christophe Gam by Karen Cirillo

 

When you entered the ODL, what was your research question?

My research question was how do people of African descent envision the future.

It connects to the idea of African Renaissance, a concept which emerged as part of the Pan-African movement’s historical struggle against racial segregation and colonization. Beyond the necessary resistance against, the concept sought to articulate the vision of a new future Africa, one fully emancipated from the ills of the past.

I was also considering demographic projections for Africa: By 2063, Africa will be home to approximately 3 billion people, nearly 40% of the world’s population, and 50% of that population will be less than 25 years old.This demographic change will not only reshape the global geopolitical order but also place Africa at the heart of the world’s trajectory.

With the understanding that the future tomorrow will be informed by the dreams of today, I designed TOGUNA World, an Art and Foresight research laboratory as a forum through which people can dream and envision futures rooted informed by our deepest desires.

Everything that exists in our society began as an idea in someone’s mind. Imagination is the foundation of our reality. So if we want to create better, more equitable and sustainable futures, we must consciously ask ourselves what we truly desire. From that place of clarity and intention, we can start building, free from the confines of what already exists.

I am an architect by training and, for the past 12 years, a conceptual artist and more recently a future researcher. My interests have always centered on foresight, sociology, history and the human sciences. With my background in design and creative direction, I initially explored these fields from a cultural and curatorial perspective rather than through intentional, formal research.

 

Where did this journey start?

In 2019, I was invited to present an immersive installation at African Crossroads, a future-focused gathering that brought together architects, researchers, climate justice advocates and experts from various disciplines to explore the concept of the future through diverse lenses. The Dream Lounge, the installation, was designed as a foresight exercise to help participants dream beyond self-limiting beliefs and initiate conversations about the futures we desire. I did a series of workshops where we look at five questions: how do we eat, play, dream, love and pray in the context of an ideal future?

Eat basically looks at food production, food distribution. Play looks at human collaboration, and essentially, we can say the idea of economy. Because when we look at anything from a fundamental place, it’s very much pushed over the existing social convention. Money is our social convention, our social construct. So when we consider the question of the economy, we must look at what systems we can imagine that can enable humans to work together towards a shared vision? Dream very much looks at education, at how can we, on one hand sustain inner knowledge, our intuition, our inner voice, and at the same time, external knowledge, and how can that look like? Love looks at community, mutual support. And pray looks at spirituality and wellness. In the idle future, what does well-being look like?

Through these early engagements, I witnessed how effective the experience was in helping participants enter a mindful state conducive to dreaming. This work marked the early inception of what would later become TOGUNA WORLD.

Originally, I envisioned continuing the project as a traveling performance and installation, but the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted those plans. In hindsight, this disruption proved to be a valuable turning point—it allowed me to reconsider the project’s potential and explore ways to scale its impact. I began imagining TOGUNA WORLD as a research lab: an evolving, open-ended platform where art could be used as a tool to guide participants through profound, transformative experiences.

I started experimenting with virtual reality games and similar mediums, envisioning a digital temple—an online gathering space functioning like a church or mosque, where every architectural element is intentionally designed to help visitors turn inward and access a sense of transcendence. The ritual itself draws inspiration from Ifá, a spiritual tradition rooted in West Africa. Receiving the Unity for Humanity Award in 2022 provided the resources to build this virtual environment, yet I still needed to determine how to use it as a platform for research and collective engagement.

This virtual space, The Sanctuary of Dreams, serves as a meeting point where I engage with participants, gather data and analyze their insights. The real challenge lies in bridging the gap between the academic and artistic dimensions of the work. On one hand, it is an intellectual exercise grounded in rigorous research; on the other, it is a deeply creative, experimental project situated within the realms of conceptual and new media art. How do I weave these aspects together? How can they coexist in dialogue, ensuring the work is not only intellectually robust but also legitimate within the contexts of contemporary art, technolog and foresight?

 

And how did being at ODL influence the project and your experience with it?

I was invited to present the work at MIT, where I eventually met Sarah and was invited to join the Open Documentary Lab (ODL). MIT is a space dedicated to academic research, where technology and innovation are continually investigated. I approached it from a place of discovery.

I was able to find everything I was looking for there. In addition to MIT, I had access to Harvard, including the Divinity School, which allowed me to attend lectures and meet faculty from both institutions. I learned mostly through informal conversation—observing and understanding what people are doing. Being in an environment where I could engage in discussions on the philosophy of technology was invaluable. These are not conversations that are readily accessible to the general public, but there, they happen all the time. It’s easy to engage in topics like the ideology behind AI, Tescreal, longtermism or transhumanism. This helped me to better appreciate the broader socio-political scope behind the current conversation on the future.

Initially, I planned to continue running workshops, but I quickly realized that in order to expand the scope of the investigation and reach a broader audience, it would be more effective to partner with an existing organization that already had a dedicated community. I was fortunate to connect with Africans Rising, the largest grassroots social movement in Africa, with 44,000 members across a range of sectors. Through this partnership, we are now collaborating to engage participants online and gather valuable data. This data will be processed and analyzed to compile the first report on the investigation’s findings. The findings will be disseminated throughout 2025 in various engaging formats, to reach a wide audience and stimulate further engagement.

The research itself focuses on understanding how people from diverse African communities envision their futures, particularly in relation to key themes such as technology, culture, sustainability and societal values. By exploring these perspectives, I aim to create a comprehensive vision of possible futures, driven by local voices and community insights.

While I will create some of the work myself, I’ve also been collaborating with artists, designers, and thinkers to visually translate these findings into a compelling narrative. Over the next year, there will be a book, a series of exhibitions, talks and presentations that will bring these findings to life and stimulate local conversations. The dissemination process will involve continued engagement with communities, gathering data through direct local interaction. This new data will then be analyzed and integrated into the ongoing investigation, ensuring that the project remains dynamic and responsive to real-time input.

If it weren’t for ODL, I wouldn’t have been able to understand the project in the way I do now. My process was both instinctive and intellectual: many aspects of the work made sense, but it wasn’t until I had the right context and the opportunity to engage with others’ work that I was able to situate my own more clearly. This experience provided me with practical, actionable steps. Before, I had a broad vision, but I didn’t know how to make it happen.

At its core, my project is a collective dreaming exercise. How do you make that type of work exist? How do you share it? How do you ensure it has an impact?

Much of this kind of work—particularly projects driven by open calls and fellowships—begins with a strong, meaningful idea. It’s about art’s relationship to society, addressing universal questions. I wanted to pose these profound questions, but I had to ask myself: Am I engaging only with people within the art world, or can this work also resonate with the general public? That became my existential question.

ODL was instrumental in helping me navigate these challenges. The weekly conversations and the opportunity to see others’ processes and research allowed me to reflect on my own practice. That, in itself, was very valuable. 

 

You’re still doing some site-specific conferences, and most current one is both online and offline. Are you at all doing this within the digital space that you created? Or using other technologies, like a VR chat world of this architectural space where you’re meeting people…

My initial idea was to have people enter The Sanctuary of Dreams using avatars, and to run the workshop within that digital environment. But I quickly realized that this was a very nuanced and intimate conversation. When participants enter the space as avatars, without showing their faces, it creates a layer of disconnect. There are things that can be communicated when people see each other that simply cannot be conveyed in a digital context. I came to understand that the digital medium cannot—and should not—replace human interaction.

The nature of the work is deeply intimate, as I’m asking people, “What do you want?” It’s a precious moment, and it’s essential to create a space that allows people to tap into that mindset. As a result, the current iteration of The Sanctuary of Dreams shifted. I simplified it to its core elements, and the space now functions very much as a temple. I see it as an introduction to the experience. The five Ifá pillars—representing the five questions and themes—serve as a guiding prompt, creating a landscape for reflection.

You have the dream manifesto at the center, and that philosophy is important to get everybody at the same philosophical understanding in order to be ready to engage with the workshop.

This is an opportunity to merge art, technology and foresight to create a space where people can reconnect with and share their own story. There will also soon be an AI oracle running the workshop instead of me, available on the website next summer as a dedicated online experience. Participants will first enter the Sanctuary of Dreams, then interact with the Oracle, who will guide them through the questionnaire. The data will be collected and analyzed using AI.

Until now, the workshops were restricted to selected guests and hand-picked experts, but the AI oracle will enable me to open the experience to anyone.

My goal is to scale the investigation globally. This was my main enquiry while joining ODL—how to best process the data and create a global mapping of dreams.

 

I really appreciate that you’re an interdisciplinary person, both an architect and an artist, and you’ve managed to create something that blends both digital architecture and art. As you wrap up your fellowship, how do you see the next six months unfolding?

I plan to finish the report by January, and from there, I’ll have a clearer sense of the exhibitions planned for next year. My focus will be on refining the outcomes of the research and preparing for the dissemination of findings into creative formats, such as text, visual work and digital experiences.

I see the next few months as a crucial period for solidifying the framework and impact of the project, while ensuring that the work remains grounded in both the academic rigor and creative vision I’ve cultivated throughout the fellowship.

The possibility that this would be open to anyone to share their thoughts about the future – especially if you’re talking about 50% of the continent’s population being young people who are technologically savvy and have strong views of what the future brings – is very powerful.

One of the next steps I’m focused on, and excited about, is scaling the work with the AI oracle, ensuring that anyone, anywhere, can participate in the research. This is the main aspect I’ve been exploring during my fellowship at ODL—how to take the project from a more selective, expert-driven environment to something that invites broad participation. Particularly when you consider that the youth population is increasingly involved in shaping the future, I see this as an opportunity to democratize the conversation. These young people might not yet be “experts,” but they have valuable perspectives on the future that need to be heard.

In the coming months, I’ll be working on refining the AI oracle’s ability to process and analyze the data, creating a global mapping of dreams and futures. It’s an exciting moment because it allows me to synthesize both the intellectual and creative aspects of the work into a format that anyone can interact with, allowing for a broader, more inclusive conversation about what the future holds.

 

When you do the physical installation, do you also have a digital component or it’s just physical?

The installation will have both a digital and physical component. I am building the Sanctuary of Dreams as an immersive physical space. Visitors will engage with the AI oracle guiding them through the journey.

Additionally, the videos of the five pillars of Ifa, originally created for the virtual environment, will be experienced in augmented reality in the physical installation. This AR experience will be enhanced by photo collages, tapestries, drawings and objects, blending the digital and physical elements in a way that deepens the interaction.

 

Will the visitors get to share their dreams at the end? Or it’s just experiential?

The workshop is typically a closed-session process, but in the context of an open exhibition, that structure wouldn’t work. So, I’m designing an experience that guides people into a mental exercise and meditation space, similar to a guided meditation. There may be moments when I, as the artist, am physically present to facilitate a session, but I want visitors to be able to enter the space and immediately get a sense of what it’s about. By next year, the outcomes and findings will be available, and I’ll be able to share some of them in the space. My goal is for people to immerse themselves in this dream-exercise process and, through their participation, see the collective results that have emerged so far.

 

I’m glad you didn’t succumb to scanning a QR code at the end and typing in your one word that is the future of Africa.

During my recent residency with Onassis, people asked why I was hesitant about including the AI Oracle in the exhibition. I explained that it’s tricky to bring it to life within the context of a physical installation. Online, people interact with the Oracle one-on-one on their computers, engaging in a personal experience. However, in a physical space, I always find it problematic when exhibitions use headsets without context — just a chair with a headset, with nothing around it making sense. My goal is to create something that can be experienced collectively in the same moment. The good news is that I have found a way to incorporate the AI Oracle into a group interactive ritual. The idea is for technology to enhance the experience by adding a layer of magical realism, to support and augment the conversation.