When I stepped into OASIS Immersion’s Amplified exhibition, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was walking into. Montreal has no shortage of flashy experiences, but this one seemed to promise something more: sixty years of rock and roll distilled into a 90-minute sensory journey, narrated by Kevin Bacon and Nanette Workman. That alone piqued my interest.
From the first room, it was clear that this exhibition wasn’t trying to mimic a concert. It was something else: an interpretation, almost a memory of rock, retold through light, sound, and motion. With 105 projectors and 130 speakers, the space felt like it had dissolved into music. Archival photos and video moved in rhythm with tracks from Bowie, Joan Jett, Green Day, Aretha Franklin, Blondie, The Who, and even Lizzo. It didn’t just play— it surrounded you, filled the floor and ceiling, pressed in from the walls.
The exhibition unfolded in four chapters. “The Backstage” set the tone quietly, almost like tuning an instrument. “The Dressing Room” revealed the personas behind the music, which was part glamour, part grit. Then “The Concert Hall” hit, and everything escalated; a flood of sound and color and movement. It was intense in the best way. I caught myself smiling, as if I’d suddenly been swept into the front row of a live show. The final section, “Backstage Québec,” grounded everything in Montreal’s own musical story – a thoughtful close.
What stayed with me most was the narration. Bacon’s voice had that calm, steady weight to it – almost cinematic. Workman, who delivers the French narration, brought a softness that gave the whole experience a familiar, human feel. Together, they carried the story through decades of rebellion, style, heartbreak, and evolution. This wasn’t just about music—it was about identity, protest, connection.
I walked out into the lounge with that familiar post-concert mix of energy and reflection. The $39 admission fee isn’t small, but it felt earned. This wasn’t a playlist with visuals, it was a curated, emotional archive. A reminder of what rock once was, and still can be.
Amplified doesn’t try to compete with live music, because it knows better than to do so. What it does instead is remind you why Rock and Roll ever mattered. Why people clung to guitars and lyrics and noise as if they meant something. Because they did.
And for me? I left with my ears ringing, my mind turning things over, and a quiet urge to put on a record as soon as I got home.