Cyprus Mail 3 April 2021 - by Alix Norman
Psychedelic realities, enigmatic avatars, virtual sex scenes – Alix Norman steps into the future of entertainment at Cyprus’ first VR festival
The AVR made me walk into a wall. And out into a whole other world: a psychedelic, magical, alternative reality… For 10 years now, the annual festivals of the Afro Banana Republic (ABR, as opposed to AVR) have been a fun-filled fiesta of creativity, attended by more than 35,000 people since their inception. A come-one, come-all extravaganza of musical acts, creative ventures, and artistic excess, it’s taken place on sunny shores, in mellow beach bars, peaceful orchards, and hidden in shaded forest depths. But, as of March 2021, the entire festival has relocated to my (fortunately, open-plan) living room, courtesy of a pair of virtual reality goggles and a cool new app.
“We came up with the idea of holding the festival in virtual reality, transforming from the ABR to the AVR festival, during the spring 2020 lockdown,” explains festival organiser Martha Georgiou. “At that point nothing was certain; we were definitely not ready to give up on our physical summer event. But we also knew we might have to explore the creation of a new reality: a safe space in which we could escape, express ourselves, and participate as an audience; an alternative world, something better than the world we were currently experiencing.”
The creation of an alternate, virtual reality to which one can escape the exigencies of real life is not a new idea – science fiction has exhaustively explored the theme (Ready Player One, Ender’s Game, Tron; and who could forget the virtual sex scene from Demolition Man?). But, thanks to the pandemic, what was once pure fantasy is a now a definite reality; a reality that’s progressing in leaps and bounds, with VR goggles (such as Oculus Quest and Vive Cosmos) establishing an ever-more sophisticated virtual experience.
With Glastonbury having already relocated to the virtual world last summer, and similar events such as Tomorrowland, Wireless Connect, and Junction 2 following suit, could VR be the future not just of festivals but of our entire collective entertainment experience? Imagine interacting with fellow attendees from your front-row seat at the Olympics; from your place in the crowd at Beyonce concert; from the audience at a TED talk. Or, at the more local end, virtual festivals from the comfort of your couch.
Granted, coronavirus may soon be under control. But if Covid-19 is just the initial volley in an era of global pandemics (as certain people have suggested it is), then virtual reality may be the answer. Especially for the festival-goers who – being generally outgoing, young and in good health – are hardly high-priority on the vaccine list.
“As we began to explore the idea of holding a virtual festival,” says Martha, “we actually realised how much more inclusive this experience could be. We have friends in wheelchairs, with autoimmune conditions, who have always wanted to attend the ABR but found it physically impossible. By creating AVR, and taking the festival into the virtual world, we’re increasing inclusivity.
“At the same time,” she expounds, “a VR festival creates a safe mental and emotional space: over the past few years, Black Lives Matter, Me Too, and other similar issues have made us realise that people can feel uncomfortable in public, feel judged. But in the virtual world, you’re not you. You have an avatar…”
Building on this inclusive theme, the specially-designed AVR app (Somnus, developed in collaboration with VR company Silver Sky) has created just two, non-human avatars to choose from – there’s no male or female, no skin colour, no height or weight. And, as I wander the virtual festival grounds (appearing as a light-infused robot), I find it refreshing not to feel outdone by bikini-clad teens. Here am I (my obligatory loungewear at odds with my sleek black goggles and high-tech noise-cancelling headphones) judged only by my partner – who, nowadays, rarely sees me in anything other than this bunny onesie. And he cares not one jot! It’s very freeing…
Other avatars come and go, dipping in and out of the 3D psychedelic space (oil-film bubbles bounce lazily across a magenta sky; towering rainbows arch over distant, purple hills; a lazy scarlet river drifts towards the horizon), their presence announced on a discreet read-out near my feet. Each has a name floating above their head, and an inbuilt messaging system lets you choose from several message options using eye movement alone. I send Technopolis a ‘loving the music’ emoji, and a ‘Wow!’ to Pestra using the Somnus emoji speak – it’s all very surreal.
Mainly, of course, we’re here for the music. And there, looming over us and ten-times the size of life, is the DJ (tonight, it’s Koulla P. Katsikoronou, followed by funky quartet FUZZ BUS), rocking our hallucinogenic universe from behind a bank of decks.
“All of our eight artists have ben pre-recorded,” explains Marina Ierides, the organisation’s interactive experiential designer. “It’s a 360 video recording, so you get to listen to the music, enjoy the act, and interact with others almost as you would at a real festival. And the beauty of this virtual world is that it’s accessible to anyone with the goggles” – a simple yet chic black cardboard creation sent to 400 locals, including yours truly, before the festival – “and a smartphone.
“This virtual experience,” she continues, “creates a new kind of medium, which incorporates existing art forms such as visuals, 3D sound, performers, flying text, and emojis. And it’s a good alternative to travel: you can participate from your own home, socialising responsibly but with all the fun and the joy of a community. It makes for so many choices, so much freedom.
“Of course we do hope that VR festivals are not the only option – here at ABR we still intend to hold a physical summer event should measures allow – but it’s worth exploring. Especially as, in the future, we’ll be seeing the two worlds – virtual and real – merge. We’re coming out of this pandemic with a richer understanding of quality of life and the importance of community, and with new tools and new ways of how things can be done. It makes you realise,” she concludes, “that the possibilities are endless.”
They certainly are. I still have another three evenings of performances ahead of over the next week or so, but I can’t wait to plunge back into alternative reality, wandering a brave new world free from physical restraint. Well, except for the pesky walls, that is. But I’m already rigging up a better system – I can’t have my partner follow me round the house with one hand on my bunny tail all night! Maybe something involving a hula hoop and treadmill is in order? Either way, I’m hooked.
For more details on upcoming ABR events, visit www.afrobananarepublic.com or the Facebook page ‘TheAfroBananaRepublic’
