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.Customers entering these pleasure domes will leave their everyday clothes (and cares)behind, don costumes, and run through a planned sequence of activities intended to providethem with a first-hand taste of what the original i.e., unsimulated reality must have feltlike.They will be invited, in effect, to live in the past or perhaps even in the future.Production of such experiences is closer than one might think.It is clearlyforeshadowed in the participatory techniques now being pioneered in the arts.Thus"happenings" in which the members of the audience take part may be regarded as a firststumbling step toward these simulations of the future.The same is true of more formal worksas well.When Dionysus in 69 was performed in New York, a critic summed up the theoriesof its playwright, Richard Schechner, in the following words."Theater has traditionally saidto an audience, 'Sit down and I'll tell you a story.' Why can't it also say, 'Stand up and we'llplay a game?'" Schechner's work, based loosely on Euripides, says precisely this, and theaudience is literally invited to join in dancing to celebrate the rites of Dionysus.Artists also have begun to create whole "environments" works of art into which theaudience may actually walk, and inside which things happen.In Sweden the Moderna Museethas exhibited an immense papier-mâché lady called "Hon" ("She"), into whose innards theaudience entered via a vaginal portal.Once inside, there were ramps, stairways, flashinglights, odd sounds, and something called a "bottle smashing machine." Dozens of museumsand galleries around the United States and Europe now display such "environments." Timemagazine's art critic suggests that their intention is to bombard the spectator with "wackysights, weirdo sounds and otherworldly sensations, ranging from the feeling ofweightlessness to hopped-up, psychedelic hallucinations." The artists who produce these arereally "experiential engineers."In a deceptively shabby storefront on a Lower Manhattan street lined with factories andwarehouses, I visited Cerebrum, an "electronic studio of participation" where, for an hourlyfee, guests are admitted into a startling white, high-ceilinged room.There they strip off their clothing, don semi-transparent robes, and sprawl comfortably on richly padded whiteplatforms.Attractive male and female "guides," similarly nude under their veils, offer eachguest a stereophonic headset, a see-through mask, and, from time to time, balloons,kaleidoscopes, tambourines, plastic pillows, mirrors, pieces of crystal, marshmallows, slidesand slide projectors.Folk and rock music, interspersed with snatches of televisioncommercials, street noises and a lecture by or about Marshall McLuhan fill the ears.As themusic grows more excited, guests and guides begin to dance on the platforms and thecarpeted white walkways that connect them.Bubbles drift down from machines in theceiling.Hostesses float through, spraying a variety of fragrances into the air.Lights changecolor and random images wrap themselves around the walls, guests and guides.The moodshifts from cool at first to warm, friendly, and mildly erotic.Still primitive both artistically and technologically, Cerebrum is a pale forerunner ofthe "$25,000,000 'super' Environmental Entertainment Complex" its builders enthusiasticallytalk of creating some day.Whatever their artistic merit, experiments such as these point to farmore sophisticated enclave-building in the future.Today's young artists and environmentalentrepreneurs are performing research and development for the psych-corps of tomorrow.LIVE ENVIRONMENTSKnowledge gained for this research will permit the construction of fantastic simulations.Butit will also lead to complex live environments that subject the customer to significant risksand rewards.The African safari today is a colorless example [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]
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.Customers entering these pleasure domes will leave their everyday clothes (and cares)behind, don costumes, and run through a planned sequence of activities intended to providethem with a first-hand taste of what the original i.e., unsimulated reality must have feltlike.They will be invited, in effect, to live in the past or perhaps even in the future.Production of such experiences is closer than one might think.It is clearlyforeshadowed in the participatory techniques now being pioneered in the arts.Thus"happenings" in which the members of the audience take part may be regarded as a firststumbling step toward these simulations of the future.The same is true of more formal worksas well.When Dionysus in 69 was performed in New York, a critic summed up the theoriesof its playwright, Richard Schechner, in the following words."Theater has traditionally saidto an audience, 'Sit down and I'll tell you a story.' Why can't it also say, 'Stand up and we'llplay a game?'" Schechner's work, based loosely on Euripides, says precisely this, and theaudience is literally invited to join in dancing to celebrate the rites of Dionysus.Artists also have begun to create whole "environments" works of art into which theaudience may actually walk, and inside which things happen.In Sweden the Moderna Museethas exhibited an immense papier-mâché lady called "Hon" ("She"), into whose innards theaudience entered via a vaginal portal.Once inside, there were ramps, stairways, flashinglights, odd sounds, and something called a "bottle smashing machine." Dozens of museumsand galleries around the United States and Europe now display such "environments." Timemagazine's art critic suggests that their intention is to bombard the spectator with "wackysights, weirdo sounds and otherworldly sensations, ranging from the feeling ofweightlessness to hopped-up, psychedelic hallucinations." The artists who produce these arereally "experiential engineers."In a deceptively shabby storefront on a Lower Manhattan street lined with factories andwarehouses, I visited Cerebrum, an "electronic studio of participation" where, for an hourlyfee, guests are admitted into a startling white, high-ceilinged room.There they strip off their clothing, don semi-transparent robes, and sprawl comfortably on richly padded whiteplatforms.Attractive male and female "guides," similarly nude under their veils, offer eachguest a stereophonic headset, a see-through mask, and, from time to time, balloons,kaleidoscopes, tambourines, plastic pillows, mirrors, pieces of crystal, marshmallows, slidesand slide projectors.Folk and rock music, interspersed with snatches of televisioncommercials, street noises and a lecture by or about Marshall McLuhan fill the ears.As themusic grows more excited, guests and guides begin to dance on the platforms and thecarpeted white walkways that connect them.Bubbles drift down from machines in theceiling.Hostesses float through, spraying a variety of fragrances into the air.Lights changecolor and random images wrap themselves around the walls, guests and guides.The moodshifts from cool at first to warm, friendly, and mildly erotic.Still primitive both artistically and technologically, Cerebrum is a pale forerunner ofthe "$25,000,000 'super' Environmental Entertainment Complex" its builders enthusiasticallytalk of creating some day.Whatever their artistic merit, experiments such as these point to farmore sophisticated enclave-building in the future.Today's young artists and environmentalentrepreneurs are performing research and development for the psych-corps of tomorrow.LIVE ENVIRONMENTSKnowledge gained for this research will permit the construction of fantastic simulations.Butit will also lead to complex live environments that subject the customer to significant risksand rewards.The African safari today is a colorless example [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]