Desert Rain: Finding One's Way
Text of the presentation by Matt Adams and Scott deLahunta for the workshop Future Moves 3.
Discussion Packets:
This is
what it is (from a press packet): Desert Rain sends six
participants on a mission into a virtual world. Each player
is zipped into a cubicle and stands on a moveable footpad
that controls their journey through this world. Together,
they explore motels, deserts and underground bunkers, communicating
with each other through a live audio link. The world itself
is projected onto a screen of falling water, creating a
‘traversable interface’ through which performers can visit
the player at certain key moments. Players have thirty minutes
to find the target, complete the mission, and get to the
final room, where others may have a very different idea
of what actually happened there.
A few thoughts on
how it works and why...
Dramaturgy of Instruction: [Scott]
I attend Desert Rain in Bristol by entering a large warehouse
beside the water and waiting in a receiving area where we
are given our first set of basic instructions. Desert Rain
unfolds in stages, each carefully scripted in order to give
us just enough of these instructions each time to enable
us to get through. One set of instructions lie at the core
of the experience – that is how to move in the virtual world.
How to move forward and back and, crucially, how to turn.
Technically (in the sense of Marcel Mauss’ Techniques of
the Body), this is accomplished by the same set of skills
one might develop to use a skateboard, to surf or ski, by
shifting the centre of gravity forward, back, to the right
and to the left. Other instructions give information as
to the significance of various objects, virtual as well
as actual. Others come later from the performers who, for
the most part, remain unseen only to be heard giving me
personalized instructions over my headset. Instructions
are also coming to me from the other audience members. Further
and final instruction comes in the shape of a performer
who materialises through the water screen and ushers me
into the final chamber.
[Matt] In total there are six
distinct ‘pedagogical phases’: a laminated instruction card
while participants are waiting outside, a briefing from
a performer, a lightbox containing graphics, a magnetic
swipe card containing instructions, a performer who leads
participants into the virtual environment and a third performer
giving audio support via headphones.
The Lowest Tech
Principle: [Scott] Sensors under the moveable navigation
footpads send a data signal to the MASSIVE-2 software committing
it to the usual calculation overdrive in order to feedback
the impression to the user that he or she is ‘moving’ through
this virtual space. The original version of these sensors
were developed and tested in collaboration with and at the
Centre for Arts and Media (ZKM) in Karlsruhe. These original
sensors provided a continuous (or analog) data signal to
be sent to the MASSIVE-2 software. One could imagine that
this would allow the user much more control of their movement
within the virtual environment – in particular the illusion
of speed could be accomplished through variable application
of weight in any direction. This would seem to be the optimal
and preferred technology for a fully immersive experience.
In the case of Desert Rain, these analog sensors were to
fail before the premiere of the show (the testing had not
been tough enough). A solution was quickly devised by Ian
Taylor of the Mixed Reality team by dismantling a joystick
and building sensors to send a simple digital or ON and
OFF signal to the VR software. These sensors were more reliable
and more than adequate to deliver the experience of the
work. While the result of a technical failure, the lesson
to be extrapolated from this is that technical sophistication
can so easily be mistaken for necessity without a fuller
understanding of the context for its use.
Metaphors
and Cues: [Matt] The piece went through three major iterations
in the last 9 months of the 27 month development process.
One of the key areas of focus during our testing (combining
focus groups, written questionnaires and direct observation)
was: how do participants orientate themselves within Desert
Rain, both spatially, and conceptually? What level of information
is required for participants to make sense of the world,
to feel immersed within it while also keeping the pace as
dynamic as possible (especially given the restricted polygon
budgets). We questioned people closely about their interpretations
of the environment. While acknowledging the inevitable subjectivity
and thus diversity of responses, this process allowed us
to tweak the design of, for example a bunker, until it had
sufficient correlation to a bunker or held a sufficient
number of bunker-like properties: does it have any military
connotations? (which might be an artistic concern) or is
it an object that would have an inside and therefore an
entrance? (which might be a spatial line of enquiry).
The
Time of Things: [Scott] Desert Rain time is consistent with
everything from the need to make something that could be
managed as a touring performance event to the development
of its artistic content associated with the mediatized circumstances
of the Gulf War. There are no holes in the Desert Rain time
– no places to take a detour or sit out and watch beyond
the watchers. There is no waiting in the airport for your
delayed flight time, no time for nostalgia to creep in.
Desert Rain skirts the perimeters of conventional theatre
viewing time (whilst keeping it in the frame) and overlays
gaming time (including ready set go, stopwatch time, last
chance, decision making time), waiting room time, travel
time (including lost and wandering time), task and countdown
time, walking through sand time, amusement park rides time,
narrative time (including documentary making and tv watching
time) and unfolding interactive time.
Polygon Budgets: [Scott]
From the beginning, Blast Theory had to accept that there
could be relatively few adjustments to the basic architecture
of the VR software, largely because of the human time factor
involved in doing this. They could work with the built-in
scripting language to design the virtual environment, but
had to accept the polygon budget. This was limited partially
as a result of dedicating more then 80% of the network traffic
to sound that meant MASSIVE has a built in limitation on
the number of polygons making up the changing visual imagery
it can generate in realtime. Therefore, the simple visual
systems and look of the landscape are part of adhering to
this principle of working with what was there (bricollage)
and finding the appropriate vehicle, form or context for
that. However, there were still constant negotiations over
what forms and functions could be added to the software.
When negotiating for something additional, Blast Theory
working on the principle of defining its absolute necessity
to the audience experience and the Mixed Reality Lab working
on the combined principles of 1) what could be done within
a limited time frame and 2) what things would be technically
interesting to do. The delicate balance of two value systems
in operation at the same time.
Sonic Spatiality: [Matt]
Audio creates a sense of place, an atmosphere, an orientation
tool. Because of its power to inflect otherwise neutral
spaces it provides cues about everything from the time of
day to the level of urgency required. In recognition of
this, MASSIVE 2 - the software created by the Computer Research
Group at the University of Nottingham - devotes 80% of network
traffic to audio. It uses three concepts to deliver a complex,
immersive sense of sound. Firstly, it attributes an aura
to each avatar (a circular zone of sound generated that
diminishes in volume in concentric rings). Secondly, it
attributes a focus to each avatar (a conical zone extending
forwards which enhances any audio source falling within
it) so that as you turn to face a sound, you hear it more
clearly. Finally, MASSIVE 2 generates a nimbus from the
intersections of aura and focus as two avatars meet. Building
on this sensitive treatment of sound Blast Theory constructed
soundtracks for every area in Desert Rain (3 real spaces
and 7 virtual spaces).
Audience, Players, Team: [Scott]
“You have 20 minutes” – the game in Desert Rain has given
me an overall goal, to find my way out of this virtual world
within which I am currently ‘trapped’. This condition of
entrapment has already begun forming in my mind as a result
of the information received so far, the instructions on
the way into these individual cubicles. The imaginary condition
is further heightened by the reality of the hooded coat
I have been given to wear, the dark murky and pixelated
quality of the VR imagery being generated by MASSIVE-2,
the water on the floor surrounding the navigation footpad
I am standing on and the atmospheric ambient music coming
over my headset. A further layering of experience occurs
in the purposive construction of a social dynamic between
myself and the other 5 audience members, one that makes
it clear it is my choice to either find the exit on my own
or with the help of and/ or by helping the others in the
audience. In the end, I play the helpful one and go back
to rescue those as the time counts down. I do not escape
– I assume I have perished. In the final room, I meet the
other members of my team … one or two I have saved, but
the hero sensation is fast fading.




