I have always sought augmented reality when I come across art: I like to touch, feel, see brush strokes on a work of art or stitches or seams from welding — to get close up and understand the creative process behind the pieces, to explore the mental or emotive state of the maker.
A recent photography exhibit in Oakland gave the viewer that chance, thanks to a literal augmented reality (AR) twist. The viewers, through a downloadable app, could self-direct through exhibit, choosing how in depth to interact with each piece through the videos and interviews transposed atop the still photos.
The exhibit, entitled “Into the ARchives: An Augmented Reality Experience,” was on display at Wolfe Pack Studios in downtown Oakland. Created by Black Terminus AR (brainchild of Damien McDuffie), it featured a collection of gorgeous, saturated photos from the team’s travels through “Oakland, Tanzania, Dar es Salaam, Arusha, Nairobi and beyond,” that, when activated on your phone screen through their app, are replaced by film clips with richer imagery.
The exhibit allowed guests to explore the detail, background and history of each piece at their own pace, without crowding the walls or introducing big blocks of texts so many struggle to wade through or concentrate on. The show was put up in June and held its closing reception Aug. 31.
I returned to the studio for the closing reception. I had checked out the photos previously, but had yet to dive in with the assistance of the AR elements to better grasp the scope of the project.
The production team, comprised of Amir Aziz, Theo Schear, and Mike Bobino, along with McDuffie, attended the closing reception, sharing their real faces alongside their bannered counterparts.
The app was easy to download and begin using, often a hurdle in situations like these, especially when the crowd/intended audience includes all ages. They had QR codes for both iOS and Android. After a false start scanning for the wrong system, I quickly had the app open and ready to go. McDuffie created the app as user-friendly way for people to experience and use “an augmented reality studio for art and culture, in your pocket.”
I did not see signage suggesting headphones, and despite seeing a couple other folks wearing them and having brought a pair, I opted not to use them at first. Given how many other people I was sharing physical space and phone-space with, I felt the experience called for being tapped into what was actually happening around me, rather than getting even further sucked into my phone screen. The audio scape wafting through the gallery was at once ambient and atmospheric, adding to the experience.
I did later pop my earbuds in to listen to clips of interviews and the joyful shouts of kids at their version of a swimming hole, but low enough to still hear my surroundings. I found myself repeatedly wishing I had more space to linger and not feel in the way of other guests as I took in the works, but also appreciated that this was a community event intended for joyful gathering, not just art appreciation. People clasped shoulders, hugged, shared a joint or two, cheers’d cups of house-made cocktails, and chatted about the beauty of the pieces, cohesion of the exhibit, and strong emotive qualities, all layered with the designed soundscape and occasional noises from the streets of the city.
Despite how seamless the download and start of use had been, the app was a bit glitchy and struggled, or sometimes outright failed, to activate several works. But overall the app was not only easy to use but quick and, really, very cool. (I regret not having spent time using the app while the space was emptier.)
One of my favorite pieces was “Zanzibar Jumpers,” pictured above as a still and below with a still of the video portion. It captured a communal moment familiar to anyone who has found unconventional swimming holes in the heat. The joy of the kids, their wild runs, jumps, whoops, and the surrounding crowd’s support intensified the energy caught in motion in the still photo. The still traps that energy, suspends it eternally; the video provides the relief and satisfaction of the completed jump, start to finish, anxiety and whoops to satisfying splash.
I left the studio committed to challenging my begrudging acceptance of new media and modes of consumption, if not in my own work, at least in that of the creative artists I’m fortunate to be surrounded by.
Wolfe Packe Studios, located at 306 13th St, Oakland, hosts frequent community, arts, writing, and comedy events.
