Stonehenge — on the Threshold of Hyperreality
The term hyperreality sounds like just another nebulous buzzword because it’s been bandied about like so many others in the Reality-Virtuality continuum. But it does have a clear definition —
“Hyperreality is an inability of consciousness to distinguish reality from a simulation of reality, especially in technologically advanced postmodern societies. Hyperreality is seen as a condition in which what is real and what is fiction are seamlessly blended together so that there is no clear distinction between where one ends and the other begins. It allows the co-mingling of physical reality with virtual reality (VR) and human intelligence with artificial intelligence (AI).”
On Saturday I traveled to Lacock Abbey near Bath to see a virtual reality artwork that pushes the boundaries on hyperreality in the most impressive way I’ve yet experienced. Thresholds VR started life as a Kickstarter campaign with the aim of taking participants back to the first major exhibition of photography in 1839 —
“Using the latest VR technology, Thresholds will restage one of the earliest exhibitions of photography in 1839, when British scientist William Henry Fox Talbot first presented his photographic prints to the public. The exhibition is a multi-sensory virtual experience, enabling you to wander freely through the room and examine Fox Talbot’s early prints. Feel the warmth of a crackling fire and hear the cries of Chartist protesters outside; recreating an iconic moment in history.”
The key difference between this and most other VR you may have experienced is the combined freedom to wander through a large room and to touch physical things — tables, walls, railings — that correspond precisely to what you’re seeing digitally, in the headset. That tactility dramatically reinforces the believability of the situation. Enhanced with numerous other details, such as positioning a real, warm radiator where the virtual, crackling fireplace is, Thresholds creates a near hyperreality.
So while words like ‘Restage’ and ‘Recreating’ quoted above are so often exaggerations in the context of tourist attractions they’re absolutely appropriate in regard to this exhibition. As Telegraph reviewer Gaby Wood said -
“I knew that it was impressive and magical and strange, but being in it didn’t prepare me for the effects of returning to reality. There is a before and after. You don’t understand how much you enjoyed the virtual world until you feel the urge to go back.”
I was very fortunate to experience Thresholds in Lacock Abbey where, in 1835, Fox Talbot created the earliest surviving photographic negative — an image of one of the windows. Taking a tour of the Abbey afterwards, and snapping a photo at that very same window gave it a special resonance. [I don’t know if it was truly embarrassing or perfectly appropriate that I took that photo with a smartphone!]
Talbot was a Victorian polymath who was frustrated by his inability to paint and draw. He wanted to find a way to ‘fix images’. He once wrote:
“How charming it would be if it were possible to cause these natural images to imprint themselves durably and remain fixed upon the paper! And why should it not be possible? I asked myself.”
I wonder what he’d make of hyperreality and its transformational power to ‘fix’ three-dimensional images upon three-dimensional ‘paper’.
On a final note, it would have been a shame to return home without taking the short drive down from Lacock Abeey to see Stonehenge. As we approached the site I couldn’t help but be struck by the knee-high boundary — the threshold, if you will — between hundreds of reverent visitors and a truly awe-inspiring, prehistoric monument. I surely wasn’t the only one struggling with the temptation to hurdle that threshold, lunge forward and place my hand on a majestic pillar. If English Heritage isn’t already thinking about a hyperreality Stonehenge, they will be.
