Time was running out for me and I had to experience some of the goggle hype at the New Frontier installation space. It’s a kind of expanded cinema meets art, meets doc, meets VR, meets Connect sort of space. A person could really spend three full days experiencing the work on the two floors. It’s brutal to move in and out of Virtual Reality and let’s face it. I’m B.A.L.D. (Born Analog, Learned Digital). My biggest concern was contracting pinkeye and some of the usual challenges existed for organizing audience to experience the work, that seems to be geared eventually for at-home enjoyment, but really isn’t available to the average consumer yet. One crafty take-home device was Google Cardboard, a seemingly conceptual bounce away from Google Glass. When handed to me it was about the size of a personal pizza box. Once opened, simple instructions made for a quick goggle assemblage, with a place for your smartphone and a download site to experience groovy 3D effects. Although some very compelling material was on display I couldn’t help but feel that Chris Milk’s eyes-wide-open baby in the womb beckoning me with its creepily chubby hand was bizarrely pro-life.

experiencing a bombing in Syria

Assent

I quickly left the feel good floor and hightailed it up to the intensely immersive and content driven third floor.  There I experienced sexual assault, a bombing in Syria, and the 1979 revolution in Iran. Oscar Raby, with his project  “Assent,” accomplished the most adept use of the Oculus Rift technology.  This autobiographical immersive documentary put the user inside Raby’s father’s bedroom, which is also the physical space that three viewers are located. Raby, the narrator, is tender as he talks to his father, who in 1973 was a 22-year-old army officer stationed in Chile, on the day when the Caravan of Death came to his regiment. We move to Raby’s studio and eventually to the site of the heinous execution. There was so much dread and tension I was wrung out by the end of it all.

Birdly sans rider

I needed a VR vacation. As I approached “Birdly” by Max Rheiner I couldn’t help but think it looked like some perverse upside down gynecological chair. But that’s just me. I threw on my wig and kaftan and was ready to experience soaring sensations. Just then there seemed to be a time shift as Robert Redford himself was touring the exhibition. I tried to not take attention in my messy honey blond wig. But after Bobby’s ride on the big bird, I couldn’t help myself and as he passed I said, “That was hot Bobby.” He smiled and grabbed my hand. Not in a hand-shaking gesture but in as a sign of connection. I was next and couldn’t help but notice the Birdly attendants didn’t sanitize after Bobby, like they had with previous flyers.  In fact just prior to Bobby they had cleaned the contraption thoroughly as I was on hand to supervise. I considered mentioning it, but thought I might get an extra thrill contacting Bobby’s DNA. And I did. The flying was basic but amazing. I took myself on some mild dives and swoops. I tried to flirt, bird-style with a passing hawk. I circled and soared for a full five minutes. I can see a future Birdly with a more customizable and form fitting carriage, which also has a tension adjustment so that you could get a full body workout in just 7.3 minutes. I see a virtual amusement park online or joining up with a particular flock of birds. Birdly could be used to help those with a fear of heights, or as a team builder or to gain sensitivity to our environment. When I got off the ride I felt shaky and the back of my neck was tingling hard. I didn’t actually get to interview Shari Frilot, the programmer extraordinaire of New Frontier, but I did have a dream about her. I was trying to pitch her some kind of project and I had a notebook with loose papers taped into the book—she didn’t seem to mind the unruliness. I told her we were going to do something we had never done before. She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, on the paper was scrawled in handwriting, “It was 1971 and I was unfamiliar with the medium…” It went on, but that was all I could read. She had a big smile on her face and said, “I’m talking about this!” Apparently it was all about the story.

Nao Bustamante is an artist and educator. She is spending her sabbatical in LA where she will have a solo exhibit at VPAM on May 16th.
For more information: www.naobustamante.com