Aphiddd

A lot of our work so far this year has been commissioned for events, workshops/classes, prototypes and digital installations – Digital Fiction Curios, Therese and Peta: A Tale of Two-Spirits, Backslide and Quartet, and an immersive VR library on-board a space shuttle being a few examples – which means we’ve found big audiences with enormous levels of public engagement and had some fantastic reactions and feedback.

In many cases though ‘you had to be there’ to see and experience these works (although some such as Digital Fiction Curios will be available to download early next year.)

So we’re pleased to have launched Aphiddd this week, a new digital poem rendered using WebGL technology which means it will run in modern web browsers so long as the computer (or device) itself has some form of reasonable graphics card.

Aphiddd uses torus-shaped splines and 3D photogrammetry to present a striking visual poem comprised of three parts. Present here are Dreaming Methods’ signature animated texts which attempt to uncover the nature of a parasitic human connection. Although the 3D scans are taken from decaying natural materials, sometimes they look and feel like internal organs being surrounded/infiltrated by writing.

We’re looking at this piece as the first of several projects that will bring high quality graphics and sophisticated navigation into the browser space – whilst remaining accessible on mobile devices that have graphics chips.

We started out doing this back in 1999 through Adobe Flash (our project Digital Fiction Curios with Sheffield Hallam University explores this in more detail) but what we’re developing here – we believe – will prove itself to be far more powerful than Flash ever was for digital literature.

Watch this space. Find out more about One to One Development Trust‘s work. Visit Dreaming Methods to see our digital fiction portfolio.

Digital Fiction Curios

In February 2017, I was lucky enough to visit the Game Developer Conference (GDC) in San Francisco having been awarded a travel bursary by Creative England’s GamesLab as part of Dreaming MethodsWALLPAPER VR project.

During the conference, I attended a presentation by John Cooney, Director of Premium Games publishing at Kongregate. John’s presentation was entitled “The Flash Games Post-mortem” (the PowerPoint is archived here). It explored the significant contribution Flash made on the emergence of the independent video games scene.

END OF LIFE

Between the mid-1990s and around 2010, Flash Player was a popular web browser plugin used to display rich multimedia. By 2009, Flash was installed on over 99% of computers connected to the internet. These days Flash Player – although not completely inaccessible at the time of writing – is blocked by most web browsers by default.

In July 2017, Adobe officially announced that it was “planning to end-of-life Flash… Specifically, we will stop updating and distributing the Flash Player at the end of 2020 and encourage content creators to migrate any existing Flash content to… new open formats.” In the case of many works of electronic literature, this proposed “migration” to open formats would involve enormous amounts of work. In most cases it would verge on the impossible.

BORN IN FLASH

In his presentation at GDC, John Cooney argued that “Flash games and developers formed the foundation of the modern indie game scene”. For me, his argument drew interesting parallels with the emergence of early digital fiction/electronic literature. He suggested “many games and developers were born in Flash” and that “Flash developers blazed new trails, defining what it means to be indie and pursue innovative content”.

Through Flash, John argued, “We learned ubiquity is incredible. Flash gave games and developers a place to focus on making great experiences instead of spending time porting to every platform. We haven’t yet returned to the ubiquity of Flash. We continue to not talk about Flash’s impact enough… it’s part of our history and deserves a bit more respect than we’ve given it. Flash can’t be forgotten for the important foundation it laid.”

A VIRTUAL ARCHIVE

For the last few years One to One Development Trust‘s in-house studio Dreaming Methods has been experimenting with the possibility of re-imagining Flash-based digital fiction in Virtual Reality. What if you could somehow ‘archive’ Flash works within VR and explore and interact with older electronic literature using the latest VR headsets and controllers?

Our latest project ‘Digital Fiction Curios’ makes this happen.

The work explores three Flash-based stories, designed and written by myself (Andy Campbell) and Judi Alston: Inside: A Journal of Dreams (pictured below), Clearance and The Flat. The oldest of the three stories – Inside – dates back nearly two decades.

Screenshot from Inside: A Journal of Dreams by Andy Campbell and Judi Alston (2000) Screenshot from Inside: A Journal of Dreams by Andy Campbell and Judi Alston (2000)

Working with Professor Alice Bell from Sheffield Hallam University and through funding from the University’s Creating Knowledge Impact Acceleration Account, we’re creating an interactive ‘virtual curiosity shop’ – a unique digital archive where Flash-based electronic literature is still very much alive and kicking.

The project will also offer a glimpse of how these influential early Dreaming Methods’ works might look and feel if they were (re)created using today’s immersive technologies.

“These digital fiction works are culturally and technologically significant and it’s really important that they are preserved.” says Professor Alice Bell. ‘”Digital Fiction Curios’ will provide a space for the public to experience the fictions and to engage with research that shows how they have been developed, why they are important, and how they use the affordances of digital media to create compelling stories. This project will work as a proof of concept for a much larger Digital Fiction Virtual Museum which we plan to develop in the future, and which will exhibit digital fiction from the 1980s to the present day.”

Judi Alston, CEO and creative director at One to One Development Trust, says: “Working with Sheffield Hallam University on this project is a great opportunity for the arts and academia to work together and push the boundaries of digital storytelling.”

TWO DECADES OF DIGITAL FICTION

As part of the launch of Digital Fiction Curios, we’ve made our entire Dreaming Methods portfolio of works available online. Many of our works are now downloadable and with accompanying links, references and education resources.

Screenshot from Clearance (2007) Screenshot from Clearance (2007)

Dreaming Methods was established in 1999 with the launch of ‘The Virtual Disappearance of Miriam’. Today, it’s One to One Development Trust’s in-house digital storytelling studio with a growing portfolio of award-winning electronic literature works, VR experiences and experimental narrative games.

You can find out more about Digital Fiction Curios at www.digitalfiction.co.uk

The Far Side

We recently produced a video sequence to promote M1nk’s fantastic new single ‘The Far Side’ – which syncs up to footage from our latest PC and Virtual Reality experience Thanner Kuhai – ‘The Water Cave’. You can check the video out here. M1nk originally produced the soundtrack for WALLPAPER plus an extended edition for the VR version.

Our Water Cave project also recently made an appearance at FLUX this month – a progressive technology/club night event at the Broadway Theatre in Peterborough mixing live electronic music with a VR arcade. Feedback on the project was superb and we’ve made some key changes to the prototype in response. Being able to observe a wide range of reactions to the work was invaluable – and included insightful thoughts and observations from those completely new to VR.

Here are some images from the evening along with some of the comments we were kindly given by participants.

“The movement feels very unique, different to other VR experiences I’ve seen.” – Kieran

“This is one of the best ‘games’ I’ve ever played. It takes you into an adventure that you don’t want to finish!” – Alex

“Wow, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience! Going somewhere else to fly and then straight into swimming… Overall, I would love to play this game again!” – Claire

“Amazing. Really well executed. You should develop this into a full game.” – Maciek

“I really liked the visuals and being able to go into the water and see the fish, etc.” – Lisa

To find out more about ‘The Water Cave’ visit www.dreamingmethods.com/thanner-kuhai

Nomads 360

We recently produced a 360 degree ‘movie’ version of the VR adventure Inanimate Alice: Perpetual Nomads which we’ve been creating with Mez Breeze Design, Bradfield Narrative Designs and Chris Joseph. Perpetual Nomads sees 19-year-old Alice stranded on a broken-down auto-bus in the middle of a remote desert at sunset with her phone blinking at 1% charge. In short, she’s in a bit of a pickle. 🙂

Compatible with mobile VR headsets such as Google Cardboard, Daydream and Samsung’s GearVR – and comprised of no less than 36,000 4k frames compiled into video sequences (it’s taken weeks to capture), this non-interactive version of Alice’s latest adventure lasts for around 24 minutes and offers the full narrative. Minus the bits where you can make some navigation choices and digress along alternative routes.

We’ve created a number of 360 videos before, including this short, atmospheric music video featuring a soundtrack by M1nk for WALLPAPER VR. The results are generally no substitute for the ‘full VR experiences’ – viewable on higher end headsets like the Oculus Rift and HTC Vive – but they do offer an effective and immersive ‘teaser’ into the wider works.

They’re also generally much easier to access. Slotting your VR-capable phone into a Cardboard headset and peeking into Alice’s world is certainly more accessible than investing in a high-end gaming laptop and tethered headset. Due to the sequence being a pre-rendered 360 video clip, the graphical quality of the experience is also richer than would be possible in a ‘real time 3D’ mobile VR experience.

Producing this version of Perpetual Nomads involved rigging up a 360 degree camera within Unity, automating (via scripting) many of the interactive scenes so that they ran ‘on time’ rather than waiting for user input, and producing over 40 ‘mini-films’ in monoscopic stereo. These were then imported into Adobe Premiere and stitched together into a full sequence. When viewed as flat image files, they look like the weird panoramic screenshots that pepper this post. The view captured from standing in the lift – shown below – looks particularly strange. 🙂

The 360 video version of Perpetual Nomads will be available shortly along with the final release – keep an eye on PN the website for more information.

Into the light

The Water Cave (Thanner Kuhai) – our latest digital fiction project, and the first work of electronic literature to be available in Tamil – was developed as an artistic response to wrangling with depression. This short atmospheric Virtual Reality experience uses a free floating navigation system that can result in the reader/player descending from sheer cliff-edge heights to polarised lows; sometimes literally submerged beneath water struggling to breathe.

Although undoubtedly dark in tone, The Water Cave also has a sense of beauty about it, with spectacular clusters of fireflies and crabs populating deep tumbling passageways and schools of fish lingering in glistening underground lakes. It’s as much peppered with glowing moments of hope as it is with challenges.

The environment is comprised of complex multi-layered rock structures and stones, water (which – as mentioned – you can submerge beneath should you need to), tangled roots, plants, tree-trunks and numerous cave-dwelling entities. Streams of illuminated text weave through the cave’s chambers offering a much-needed lifeline of light. Language can also sometimes be found ‘lodged’ and ‘growing’ between the undergrowth and curling branches; visually part-hidden or obscured.

The Water Cave holds some interesting surprises for those who venture deep enough. On PC the work can be navigated using keyboard and mouse – with the space bar switching between languages. This is a multilingual experience that changes aesthetic (and of course potentially interpretation) depending on the language chosen.

In VR, it makes use of Oculus Touch controllers to offer the reader/player a ‘zero gravity’ sense of free-roam. Point the controller in the direction you want to go, and push the ‘accelerator’ button to start moving. Exploring the nooks and crannies of the cave at your own pace can be quite satisfying, particularly in VR where the wet rock textures – rendered at 4k and originally digitised from a gravestone – can be examined in minute detail, as if you could reach out and run your fingers across their damp surface.

Audio stems mainly from the environment itself: trickling water, fireflies fluttering, the reverberation of wind through narrow passageways. This is the first project that we’ve developed to use ambisonic sound, where audio feels to come from above and beneath you as well as traditionally through the usual stereo-based left and right.

The work’s Tamil language, translation and writing was created by Shanmugapriya T. The soundtrack is from ‘The Wooden Man’ by UK musician/artist Alex Rushfirth.

The Water Cave requires a PC with a reasonably good graphics card and/or VR-capability (obviously) if you want to land yourself literally inside it. An Oculus Rift with Touch controllers are essential for the VR experience.

The Water Cave is available now for PC and VR

DREAM CATCHING

Last year One to One Development Trust were commissioned by Platform8/Jumped Up Theatre to run an arts project and Virtual Reality experience we devised called The Dreamcatcher. The brief was to gather people’s aspirations and dreams about Peterborough – a cathedral city in Cambridgeshire, England – through audio, film, creative interventions and social media, and then to weave it all into an interactive digital art installation.

The project launched on Wednesday 8th November 2017 at the Undercroft in Hampton, a unique theatre space managed by Eastern Angles tucked away beneath Serpentine Green, an enormous shopping centre. Thanks to additional hardware support from the Innovation Lab at Allia Future Business Centre, it was also on exhibit via gaming laptops with glowing rainbow-coloured keyboards and VR headsets for several days afterwards – open to the public, free to view and experience.

The Dreamcatcher’s community-centric roots, unusual venue (which was beautifully decorated as part of the project by Rose Croft with enormous hanging hand-made dreamcatchers) and free-to-strap-to-your-face high-end VR tech attracted audiences that were often completely unfamiliar with digital art, never mind Virtual Reality.

From families who had been involved in the project through to interested local artists, musicians, producers and writers, to teens in hoodies who’d accidentally discovered the Undercroft by zoning down the wrong shopping centre escalator whilst gazing at their phone screens, we saw engagement with the installation we’d produced in unexpected and inspiring ways.

The Dreamcatcher is a realtime 3D application built with Unity that takes a series of films, texts, audio clips and scanned artworks – collected and curated thoughout the duration of the project via workshops, festivals and filming sessions – and displays them within a virtual environment divided into four aspirational ‘zones’.

An enormous floating Dreamcatcher riddled with interactive coloured ‘beads’ provides the central focus for triggering ‘experiences’ that could be made up of any one or more of these media components. The result is an often surreal but always smile-inducing medley of voices that start to build up a colourful and engaging picture of the collective dreams and aspirations of contributors from one the UK’s fastest growing and most diverse cities.

One school child’s dream was to simply ‘live in a house filled with pink butterflies’ – we managed to realise that. Another young person’s dream was to swim with sea creatures – we pulled that off too. These dreamers were able to attend the event with their families and experience the results for themselves.

More complex dreams and aspirations revolved around wanting to feel a sense of belonging and inclusion within local communities – we explored these issues. One atmospheric, wintry VR scene involves the appearance of a ‘red hand’ floating above clusters of houses, a symbol that was once, we discovered, painted on select doors of houses on a new 70’s housing estate to support an influx of 20,000 people moving to the ‘new city’ from London. The red hand symbol on doors in Bretton represented an openness of neighbours offering help if you needed it.

The exhibition pulled in a large cross-section of ages, backgrounds and abilities. The fact that the digital projection and VR experience required no goals to be won, no missions to be accomplished, to tasks to be completed – that it was simply an ‘exhibit’ in itself to float around and explore – seemed to work for it rather than against it.

Fascinatingly, even though we’d presented many of the gathered dreams and aspirations as swirling animated texts rather than every one of them as fully realised experiences (we had to draw the line somewhere and had accumulated over 450 dreams) we found that the majority of people actually took the time to read these texts – even quite young children – and that the flowing movement of language only encouraged reading to happen rather than distracted from it. The ‘reader’ became physically immersed in the text as it literally weaved around their body,

What also struck us was that we weren’t seeing the same old faces in the crowd – this wasn’t an experience that was preaching to the converted or an academic conference where we were going to be asked what we thought about multimodal polylinear digital narratives. Our audience represented the demographic diversity of the local community and included experienced gamers like young men who play Resident Evil 7 on Playstation VR, through to older people who were curious, children and families and random shoppers. We were also pleased to welcome a group of deaf and hard of hearing adults.

There was a warm reception, a genuine interest, curiousness and enthusiasm, perhaps because of the pride, ownership and sense of inclusion invoked by actually talking to and working with the people involved.

For more information about Dreamcatcher visit www.onetoonedevelopment.org/portfolio/dreamcatcher/

Co-written with Judi Alston. Photography by Tom Byron

Where can I recharge my phone out here?

Creating the desert environment – the ‘canvas’ onto which the story is told – for the new Inanimate Alice adventure Perpetual Nomads has taken many months of work. The landscape has undergone a number of significant shifts in style, levels of detail and tone – from slightly cartoonish/illustrative to richly detailed, hazy and atmospheric. Looking back over previous iterations, it’s easy to see the amount of layering that’s gone on to achieve the final look; it’s not a dissimilar process from working on a piece of artwork in Photoshop. Except that there are endless viewing angles.

Perpetual Nomads takes place at the end of the day after Alice’s work-shift at The Last Gas Station – for which Alice wrote her own development blog here 🙂 which means the sun’s going down and eventually it’s going to get dark. To achieve this in game, I decided to implement (and carefully modify) a sophisticated weather control system. This, coupled with painstaking work on the terrain materials to ensure they looked pretty good in VR plus a number of post-processing effects eventually resulted in a striking and characterful story-world – not quite photo-realistic, but enough to show a significant progression in Alice’s game-making skills since Episode 6.

Whilst old rusted vehicles, flowering cacti, weird trees and rocks, birds, lizards and desert wolves – things Alice would definitely want to put into her game – all make a (sometimes glimpsing) appearance, the interface itself for navigating the landscape also sits within the world as a series of movement points (Alice’s signature >> progression arrows from earlier episodes, tipped 90 degrees to face the ground), speech bubbles and triggers. Alice is able to show her thoughts, move through the environment, and pick up/interact with various objects as the adventure unfolds.

Much of this evolved through cross-continent screen-sharing sessions with Mez Breeze, where key decisions/contributions were made on colour, graphic design, object positioning as well as environmental styles, buildings and locations.

Working with Chris Joseph, audio was also an incredibly important consideration: ambient ‘desert noise’ can be heard continuously, emanating from various 3D points in the landscape along with the hum of the distant city, which is just about visible on the hazy horizon. Also noticeable is the digital distortion of a nearby Information Booth (pictured below) as well as Alice’s footsteps across sand and rock as she explores the area around the broken down bus.

Of course, everything here is an illusion: the landscape doesn’t really sprawl all the way out to those distant mountains – indeed the terrain would literally come to a severe edge if you were able to wander across it far enough – and there are many theatrical smoke and mirror effects being applied to keep the experience contained within important boundaries.

This is very much a guided digital narrative; Alice sharing her adventure with you whilst leaving plenty for your imagination to muster up about what else might be waiting out there in the desert. Those are your stories, and she’d be happy to hear them.

Perpetual Nomads is available to purchase now in Early Access for PC and VR.

Are you an engineer?

It’s July 2017 and I’ve just arrived at the University Fernando Pessoa in Porto for the Electronic Literature Organisation’s conference entitled ‘Affiliations, Communities and Translations’. I’m here to talk about an episodic work of digital fiction I’ve been involved in for the last 8 years called Inanimate Alice, specifically it’s imminent translation into Portuguese and a forthcoming new spin-off for Virtual Reality called Perpetual Nomads.

I’m quizzed over lunch about which university I’m here to represent. “I’m not,” I reply. It doesn’t take long before Inanimate Alice pops up in conversation. “So, what’s your role on it? Are you an engineer?”

I’ve been writing short fiction for as long as I can remember. I’m fascinated with the idea of ‘digitally born’ narratives – stories written specifically for – and to be experienced on computers and devices. This obsession – and it definitely is one – has driven me to develop a lot of different skills, from web application programming through image manipulation and video editing to building complex and immersive virtual worlds.

I’m asked sometimes, “Don’t you miss just writing?” as though, as an artist involved in this kind of work – and particularly one who frequently collaborates with others – I must never just write anymore and that just writing might even be a form of therapeutic activity for me.

Whether the end results are collaborative or otherwise, I write – frequently. Not just into the projects, but also into physical journals and notebooks. Language – text – permeates everything – flows in and around and through every component of these often rich and complex digital stories. Writing cannot be avoided: it’s as much a part of the fabric of creation as anything else.

It would be easy to assume that the roles on big narrative game projects such as All the Delicate Duplicates and WALLPAPER are clearly split down the middle or into easy-to-digest chunks: script writer | coder/developer | visual artist | sound artist | etc. But no matter how things are credited, or roles assumed by reviewers, listings or summaries – that’s not the case.

Upon first installation, an early release of Adobe’s web design package Dreamweaver presented the user with an either/or dialogue box that posed the question: “Are you a coder or a designer?” There was no option to select both, or none; it was one, the other – or quit.

Back in Porto, my response falls immediately into a similar tick-box trap. “Well, not really an engineer…” I find myself saying slowly. The term ‘engineer’ simply feels too cold and removed to describe my role on projects like Inanimate Alice, where I’ve dedicated thousands of hours of genuinely heart-felt time into carefully crafting its increasingly sophisticated narrative-worlds.

In retrospect though, of course I am an engineer – at least in part. Those narrative-worlds wouldn’t ‘exist’ without some degree of ‘engineering’.