In the summer of 2024, Recea Marin partnered with MoMA PS1 for an ephemeral installation-meets-party titled a room with no corners—a two-night experience that blurred the boundaries between club, gallery, and dreamspace.

The event took over one of PS1’s industrial gallery rooms, which Recea and her longtime creative collaborators transformed into a living sound sculpture. The space pulsed with bass-driven breath loops and dissonant synths, mapped to motion sensors embedded in the walls. Soft fog hovered at knee height. Projection-mapped textures moved slowly across the space like memory replayed at half-speed. Visitors were encouraged to take off their shoes at the entrance and walk the space barefoot—“to remember you’re in a body,” as Recea described it.

Each night lasted only a few hours. No phones. No reposts. Entry by RSVP only.

The first night was a silent build-up—an ambient sound collage that crescendoed into a choreographed performance piece with dancers emerging from the walls in archival sculptural looks. The second night became a private rave. Recea performed a 90-minute live set of unreleased music, soundtracked alongside experimental DJ sets from Berlin and Dakar artists. At midnight, the lights shifted cold, and the space began to deconstruct in real time.

By Sunday morning, a room with no corners was gone. No recording. No press preview. Just whispers and grainy Polaroids.

The installation made waves across art, fashion, and music circles. Dazed called it “an echo chamber built for your shadow self.” i-D simply wrote:

“She threw a party that felt like a breakup, a memory, and a baptism all at once.”