A few weeks ago, I locked eyes with Sir Ian McKellen as he told me the story of how I was born, where I grew up, and when I will finally die. Some of the details were small, but others were not so focused on money that it was as if he really knew things about my life that I had never shared with anyone. He told me not to panic, which was difficult because of how painful and arresting the whole experience was.
McKellen’s words made me look away to find Golda Rosheuvel staring at me the same way and telling the same fascinating story that I wanted to hear more about. His telling of the story was different and brought new emotions to its focus, but it seemed to flow from the same source of deep wisdom. And although there were times when Arinzé Kene and Rosie Sheehy took the story to dark, dark places, looking at them directly helped me to understand that they were just trying to reveal some important truths about themselves.
This is something I heard during a recent show A shipa new play from writer Simon Stephens, director Sarah Frankcom, and mixed reality production specialist Todd Eckert currently playing at The Shed in New York City. Produced by Eckert’s Tin Drum, A ship uses augmented reality glasses to create a mixed reality experience that brings you face to face with the game characters. The game builds upon Tin Drum’s previous experimental productions such as Life – a mixed reality show in which the playwright Marina Abramović goes when she disappears – again Medusa, an installation that used Magic Leap 2 headsets to display digital structures in an empty art space. But the new work uses its technology in a new way that makes it feel like you’re more than just an audience member.
I and a few other people in attendance weren’t sure what to expect before the performance began, but it started to make sense as we sat down in a circle in a dark, red room lit only by the dim light of a large orb positioned above us. After we all slipped on a pair of real wired glasses with the help of theater patrons, the room got even darker – so much so that we couldn’t see each other. The darkness and silence of the opportunity made us all look forward to the globe, which put our heads in a good position to see. A shipThe ethereal cast members come into focus one by one.
McKellen, Rosheuvel, Kene, and Sheehy play a quartet of people who find themselves in a kind of transitional space somewhere between life and whatever comes after death. You, the audience member, complete their circle as a newcomer who knows nothing about this metaphysical realm, and needs to understand how your life story is a collection of things that are strange to you. The characters tell “your” story by recounting moments from their own lives, which become more vivid and intense as the play progresses.
Although the actors are not physically present during the performance, A shipThe minimal production/lighting and its use of MR in the form of AR headsets makes it feel like they are all sitting just a few feet away. Frankcom – who has been open about not being particularly interested in technology – has been targeted A ship like a traditional theater play that places more emphasis on the performances of its actors than on elaborate sets. But by capturing that performance with a volume video system that includes 52 cameras, you can present it in a way that does A ship you feel strangely angry and as a good example of how this kind of technology can create new ways of experiencing traditional theater.
As attractive as each A shipThe performances are, what really sells the world of the game is the way the MR glasses show each actor – who recorded the whole game as a team in one take. The characters appear close enough and vividly enough that it looks like you can reach out and touch them. But at times, that clarity gives way to visual conflict and movement caused by mirrors. It doesn’t completely take away from the illusion of the characters having you in the room, but it gives them a mysterious, ghost-like quality that plays into the show’s death exploration.
A shipThe most emotional action takes place towards the end of its 47-minute running time. After telling about their lives, the actors of this show left me thinking about how much of myself I could see in them, and how things that did not affect me personally could speak to other listeners sitting next to me.
As we all paddled to get our shoes (you have to take off your shoes), I heard some people talking about how A ship it made them feel like they were connected to something bigger than themselves – not in a religious sense, but in terms of sharing a deeper experience with a group that left us all wondering how we are alike. I rarely find myself cringing when I try a new technology for the first time, though A ship showed me how AR can enhance an already beautiful art.
A ship now on display at The Shed until March 1st.
Correction, February 10: An earlier version of this article did not mention the Tin Drum Theater Company’s production of An Ark. It’s the Tin Drum, not the Tin Drum Theater Company.
