I saw “Death Of A Salesman” for the first time at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in 1997. I was 16 years old and just starting to stumble into what it meant to be an adult and as I watched Willy Loman, crumbling under the weight of so many different familial and societal pressures, miraculously, I started to recognize myself. I saw myself in that 63 year old salesman and in that 50 year old play. And so even though the play is a tragedy, I didn’t walk away sad. I was instead reassured because I knew that the same fears I was just then facing lived in everyone else too. I knew I wasn’t alone. One of the great joys of interacting with art of any kind is the journey you take to find yourself in it, to uncover your own reflection there, as hidden as it may be, and…
Check it out! It’s a pretty great compilation of the work we’ve been doing. Big shout-out to VR Playhouse editor/legend/tha Gawd Derin Turner, who put it all together. Enjoy!
So Kellog’s announced that they’re going to be rolling out limited-edition cereal boxes that will include build-your-own VR viewers, akin to Google’s DIY device, Cardboard. They’ll have their own app too, with 360° videos that will reportedly include first-person rides on a mountain bike and a wingsuit. All of which is pretty cool. Nevertheless, we can’t help but wish that instead of generic action sports footage, Kellog’s had looked inward, to their own cereal brands and, more importantly, the worlds that were created to sell these cereals. Speaking as someone who grew up watching a lot of kids TV programming and, therefore, a lot of ads for cereal, some of those worlds are bonkers-level crazy. The cartoon psychedelia these commercials often traffic in, combined with crystal-clear intentions for their characters (usually, “get the cereal!”), makes them perfect for VR. Here are the five most perfect: Fruit Loops The tagline for…
The concept of presence, of being virtually and magically transported to a place, real or imagined, and having the feeling of truly being there, has always been and will continue to be, one of the chief selling points of virtual reality. But that concept of presence, and the value that VR gives to it, becomes much more complex when we’re talking about a place and an experience that no one would want to be present for. Such is the case when it comes to “[08:46]”, a new VR piece that recreates the events of September 11, 2001 from the point of view of an office worker in the World Trade Center’s North Tower. I can only guess as to the motives behind the creation of “[08:46]”. Whatever they may be, it is ultimately the prerogative of its makers. It’s a free country and, as with so many controversial works of art, if…
I love movies, and probably watch 3-4 per week via the usual portals: Netflix, Hulu, VUDU, and Amazon Prime. Don’t even get me started on the TV shows. I don’t anticipate that immersive VR experiences will ever change the appeal of watching a movie play out in front of me, especially since I can watch while also doing work on my computer. Much of the work I do involves tedious laptop editing, etc., and having something playing on the TV is pretty much the go-to for getting it done. But obviously, we over the Playhouse have fallen head over heels for VR. So let’s not say that VR and Oculus are going to make movies obsolete (we still listen to radio, right?), but what you get from the VR experience is different and deeply satisfying. The first thing I feel inside the Oculus is privacy. I feel like I’m in my own little…
“We should film people trying the Oculus Rift for the first time,” Ian says to me. It’s the same every time. Friend sits on couch, puts the Oculus Rift on his or her face, and below the ski goggle mask, a big smile emerges. Nobody puts on the Rift and isn’t totally blown away. I’m taking my friend Reyna through the developer’s kit demo, an animated virtual reality world of a small Tuscan villa. You start the demo inside the house, where you can look up at the vaulted, beamed ceiling, or down at the hard wood floor, at the staircase behind you, or out the window. By pushing the arrow keys on the computer, you can move out the door to a beautiful courtyard, where you realize you are on what appears to be an island. “You want to fly?” I ask her. A resounding yes. I push the =/+ sign on the…