At a quarter to 10 a.m., a line forms outside the doors of Sweet Tooth Hotel in Victory Park. The line includes three young women who drove from Fort Worth that morning. They are patiently waiting for their reservation.

"I have really, really high expectations , " says Jessica Sigala with a smile. It's her birthday, and she's anticipating a good day ahead of her. "I expect to see a lot of pretty things — things that are pleasing to the eye. That's what I'm looking forward to the most."

Sigala thinks it'll be similar to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory while her friend Nicole Musick says she wants to see "lots of bright, neon colors and candy." Their expectations vary, but the trio comes to one conclusion: They are here to take pictures.

With larger-than-life desserts and contemporary style, Sweet Tooth Hotel could easily be seen as a holy grail for Instagrammers — but it wasn't intended for that. Jencey and Cole Keeton started the multi-room experiential pop-up for local artists to showcase their work.

That intent didn’t come across for Sigala, Musick and their friend, Brittany Jalapa; to them and many other visitors, Sweet Tooth Hotel is an Instagram backdrop.

Social media, while a tried-and-true method of sharing artsy and adventurous experiences, is changing the way consumers interact with art, whether it be traditional, or bold and unusual pieces. Patrons walk through museums, galleries and increasingly trendy pop-ups observing the art — and keeping one hand on their phones, ready to take pictures. This change is a signifier that the art world is readjusting its focus from creating art to pleasing the audience, and social media is the driving force.

“We’ve seen through social media how everyone’s been taking pictures, and we kind of know what to expect,” says Jalapa before heading inside Sweet Tooth. “But that’s what we look forward to — some good Instagram pictures.”

Factories for selfie culture

When the Keetons created the concept behind Sweet Tooth, they did so out of necessity. To them, taking part in experiential pop-ups meant having to travel outside of the state, usually to other big cities such as Los Angeles or New York City. They felt it was time Dallas had one of its own.

Each ticket holder has an hour to explore the rooms, take pictures and interact with the exhibit. It was well-received; tickets sold out for the first month, so the Keetons extended their Victory Park lease to the end of July, and then once more to the end of August.

The pop-up is open to all visitors, but when it began to take off, Cole says he noticed a change in visitor demographics.

“At first, there were adults coming, but now there are teenagers and students and influencers — we held an influencer party the other day — and photographers,” he says. “I think many people are here to just take pictures.”

Experiencing the Sweet Tooth Hotel on July 19, 2018 in Dallas were (clockwise from top left): Karen Nino doing a Boomerang video; Danielle Davidson, Elizabeth Hurley, Chelsea Giroux and Whitney Zimmerman taking group selfies; Rasheeda Archibald filming Veronica Fletcher walking in stripes; and Lorena and Kimball Ramey taking a selfie for social media. (Ashley Landis / Staff Photographer)

The need to take pictures is what he calls “the fear of missing out,” also known as FOMO in internet culture. Cole explains that FOMO is the domino effect of posting an image of an event, idea or thing on social media and influencing others to do the same.

It’s not necessarily a bad thing — to a certain degree, that’s part of Sweet Tooth’s marketing. In fact, visitors like Sigala believe that the displays at Sweet Tooth are meant to be photographed and interacted with, which is why she prefers the pop-up over a traditional institution.

“When you’re at museums that are more formal, you’re almost too scared to step too close and step over the line,” Sigala says. “[Sweet Tooth Hotel] is cooler 'cause you don’t have to feel like you’re walking on eggshells next to the art. You can feel free to interact with it. I think that’s kind of cool.”

While experiential pop-ups like Sweet Tooth have attracted many, some doubt the intent of the project itself. Cheryl Vogel, curator at Valley House Gallery, believes in the “traditional” way of experiencing art, or one that doesn’t involve social media sharing.

“You stand in front of the art and let it talk to you,” Vogel says. “For an artist, there are rules of composition, palette choices and the emotional composition of something. You can see a great painting three or four times before it whispers in your ear.”

Vogel hasn’t visited Sweet Tooth, but she says it reminds her of the Late Night events hosted by the Dallas Museum of Art. In the similarities, she finds that both are appealing to younger audiences. However, unlike the DMA, she doubts the longevity of Sweet Tooth, describing it as a “different kind of art.”

“This kind of installation, it’s a fun experience,” Vogel says. “Will someone go back there as often as you might go to the DMA? Maybe with a different friend. But would they go back on their own just to gaze at something? I don’t think so.”

Vogel is no stranger to using social media in a museum. In fact, she says she has more pictures of art than she can count on her phone. But even Vogel says she sees the way social media is changing art, and that it usually follows a trend.

“I hope that social media will not change the way museums curate art,” Vogel says. “But museums do create events all the time so that they’re accessible for a younger generation, and it’s a good thing. The world is definitely changing.”

The culture of self and museums

The DMA is known for featuring art collections that range from the Renaissance era to modern day. General admission to the museum has been free since 2015, and photography without a flash has always been permitted. Those factors, mixed with their marketing and signature Late Night events, led the DMA to become a hub for patrons of all ages.

In October 2017, the DMA debuted an installation by Yayoi Kusama called "All the Eternal Love I Have for the Pumpkins," one of Kusama's signature Infinity Mirror Rooms. The room was lined in mirrors and reflects — for what seems like infinity — a patch of glowing, polka-dotted pumpkins. Images of the room can be found on the installation's DMA website, which also instructs visitors to "Share your experience using #KusamaPumpkins on social media."

Lyza Hernandez looks at the Yayoi Kusama's installation: All the Eternal Love I Have for the Pumpkins, at the Dallas Museum of Art in Dallas on Sept. 22, 2017. (Nathan Hunsinger / Staff Photographer)

At the DMA, patrons had 45 seconds to take in the mirage of pumpkin fields. Tickets were $16 each and sold out during its six-month stay.

Kimberly Daniell, a former spokesperson and social media strategist for the museum, says visiting exhibits are especially “embraced by social media.” The Kusama installation attracted more than 64,000 snap-happy patrons.

This statistic isn’t surprising. Visitors all over the country have flocked to Kusama’s Infinity Rooms by the thousands, designating it a coveted social media hotspot. It was one of the reasons it was brought to the DMA to begin with, says Daniell.

“Her work speaks to that Instagram environment. Her pieces are so immersive, and the visitor is able to step into the work, which is a unique experience,” Daniell says. “It lends itself to being captured.”

However, not all favor installations like Kusama's. Rick Brettell, the art critic of The Dallas Morning News, wrote that he found "the whole thing a little silly and contrived." After speaking to Brettell almost 10 months after his review was published, his opinion remains unchanged.

“To me, it wasn't a serious work of art,” Brettell says. “It was something that was made to be an experience at a certain point in time... I thought it was fabulous, but I didn't find that it had much depth.”

Hermalinda Idrogo, left, takes a photo of Eva Idrogo, 12, in front of "Catherine, 1993" by Sean Scully at The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth. (Ashley Landis / Staff Photographer)

Brettell says he attributes his opinions about Kusama and social media to his age, but to him, art needs to move the viewer. “There are lots of kinds of works of art, and they move you in different ways,” he says.

He believes that art created in a world that revolves around social media is “made with the full cognitive sense that they would be shared in certain ways.” He doesn’t find them to be better or worse than earlier works of art, but he says that pieces made by artists like Rodin, Monet or Bronzino just aren’t affected by social media the way modern art is.

"Works of art which are made over long periods of time by artists demand a considerable period of time to come to an understanding of them," Brettell says. "And I think that social media is about being seen with the work of art, being seen with others who are being seen with the work of art, and doesn't have very much depth.

However, Daniell believes social media is a good thing for art and museums, whether the works are modern or not. It's easy to assume that posting institutional artwork on social media will deter visitors from seeing the works in person, but many, like Daniell, would argue that using cell phones in museums can attract more visitors. She believes sharing art makes it more accessible and convinces others to come see the works on their own.

"There are some people that will never get to go to the Louvre or to the DMA, so they're able to have that experience while it's virtual," Daniell says. "Nothing, for me, will take away from being in front of that work of art, but social media a great way to share what is available and what you are able to experience in person."

Daniell is now head of marketing at Amon Carter Museum of American Art, a museum with pieces from the 19th and 20th century. It’s a stark contrast to the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, which features contemporary art in its permanent collection and traveling exhibits.

Lee Hallman, an associate curator at the Modern, remembers when museums restricted photography inside their institutions. She says that the idea has now shifted into an acceptance period.

“Museums over the years have stopped trying to discourage people from using their phones in galleries and exhibitions and, rather, accept that this is the way people engage with art and everyday life,” Hallman says.

She admits that she used to feel that cameras and phones did not belong in a museum, but like curators at most art institutions, she’s had a change of heart. Although, that change isn’t without the hope that visitors will appreciate what museums are made for: viewing art.

“We hope that audiences will not come to see work with just the intent of posting on social media, but that is a great way for people to come,” Hallman says. “Hopefully they will put down the device and engage directly with the art because there’s really no substitute for that.”

Patrons take selfies during the Dallas Museum of Art's monthly Late Night program on July 20, 2018 in Dallas. (Ashley Landis / Staff Photographer)

‘Working on the wrong side of history’

Takashi Murakami is a Japanese artist who has been popularized by his collaborations with fashion house Louis Vuitton and musical artist Kanye West. It was these collaborations that brought Murakami to the public eye and turned his art into social media attractions.

His exhibit, "The Octopus Eats Its Own Leg," is currently on display at the Fort Worth Modern. Murakami credits his success to the rise of social media, calling the intersection between "likes" and art "a very nice moment."

Murakami has been creating art for the last three decades and has often been criticized for his use of “high art” — art that is detailed — and “low art,” or simple art. To Murakami, social media breaks the barrier between the two levels.

“When I see the art of Michelangelo next to something by Kanye West — it’s the same level, the same barrier, in my opinion,” Murakami says. “That’s a very big shift in image history.”

Dominique Carter takes photos with his cellphone for social media at Takashi Murakami's exhibition, "The Octopus Eats Its Own Leg," at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth on July 20, 2018. (Ashley Landis / Staff Photographer)

It’s an opinion that local artist Jeremy Biggers shares. Biggers is one of seven artists who contributed to the artwork inside Sweet Tooth Hotel. His piece, a floor-to-ceiling mural of hyper-realistic lips surrounded by candy, is one of the first to be seen along the corridor of the pop-up.

Like Murakami, Biggers has been an artist for years, and he says that social media helped propel his career, which is why he doesn't mind sharing his art through platforms like Instagram and Twitter.

To him, social media is “a huge, huge part of the world that we live in,” and anyone who attempts to control how others consume art “is naive at best.”

Using social media in viewing and experiencing art is a fine line for some, yet interwoven for others. Artists and experts agree: The way we experience art can depend on the intent of the artist. But there is no argument that social media changes the way art is consumed, and that the business model of traditional viewing simply isn’t as applicable anymore.

The inevitable truth is that art is being created and made into what the audience thinks is the most shareable, Instagram-worthy thing.

“Trying to prevent people from consuming artwork — in the way the world works now — is not the solution. I don't know what the solution is, but I'm an artist, it’s not my job to figure out what works,” Biggers says. “Pushing back against social media is, I think, working on the wrong side of history.”

Nataly Keomoungkhoun is a staff writer at The Dallas Morning News. She received a master of science in journalism from the University of Southern California.