Stepping into From Dust feels less like attending a performance and more like consciously entering a dream. In this virtual reality opera, Michel Van der Aa extends his innovation in immersive storytelling, inviting each audience-of-one to co-create their experience. Presented in a dark setting in the Muziekgebouw for the Holland Festival, this piece introduces us to a protagonist and her five alter egos — six singing women who guide you through your own personal journey. Their vocals are performed by the six members of the ensemble Sjaella, with each voice representing a character that shares resemblance to the participant within the virtual world.
Before donning the VR headset, I was invited to to sit in a room resembling a glass case and have a conversation, during which a facilitator asks a series of questions. I was asked to describe a place where I felt closest to yourself, a place where I felt furthest from myself, and a place in my imagination which transcends reality, like a kind of personal utopia. These questions introduced a psychological intimacy that sets the tone for what follows, activating a personal narrative in pre‑configuring the AI‑driven environment to echo a customised landscape. The facilitator then scanned my body using a camera which could gain a “sense” of my “presence,” enabling the VR characters to share a physical resemblance to me.
Once my headset was secured, despite the knowledge that I was standing with a VR set over my eyes, I found it incredibly easy to become absorbed into Van Der Aa’s world. In fact, I never had to make a conscious decision to be holistically present as my engagement was very much something that rather swiftly occurred. The virtual characters had a prominent, almost ominous awareness of my presence, and each element of the journey could be physically felt. At moments, I jolted as I was lifted into a sky or pulled across an unexplored space. I even experienced a jump scare as one of the women, seemingly out of nowhere, appeared suddenly, singing up close to my face. There is an odd sense of self-consciousness that comes with becoming a performer yourself, as amidst the characters you are suddenly hyper aware of your body, experiencing performance from a new perspective. I found myself contemplating what it was the six figures wanted from me or expected of me. This sense of expectation became more prominent at quiet moments, pending on visual and aural transformation, as briefly I considered myself standing in the blank space wearing the VR headset, waving my hands around as invisible technicians watched on, feeling suddenly unfamiliar with the alien nature of my body and its mechanics.
It was strange to see the virtual women resembling my physical appearance (and honestly, somewhat insulting to observe which of my features the system had chosen to exacerbate — how rude of technology). There were certainly plays occurring around the themes of natural and unnatural and good and evil, both regarding the surroundings and the six present figures. The libretto filled with natural imagery contrasted with some of the more surreal elements of the immersive world, while each of the characters leading me down a specific path said something about what these figures represented; a quiet commentary on the world around us and the human condition. The most distinctive moments were those when you weren’t sure where to go or which woman to follow and so you had to make a decision. I found myself moving in circles, trying to capture with my eyes all that was occurring around me and observe each of these women. What were each of them expressing in their resemblance to myself? What did they each represent? How have I come to associate some of the women with more positive attributes of character while I perceive others to be conveying a darkness, perhaps reflective of my own insecurities?
This is From Dust’s dramaturgical achievement; it leaves you asking questions. And so, can the experience of Opera really be transported into the virtual reality? In observing Van der Aa’s case, in which a famously unreal theatrical tradition and a transparently unreal landscape fittingly meet, possibilities for transformation certainly do become promising.
Róisín Daly is a master’s student in International Dramaturgy at the University of Amsterdam.
Students of the University of Amsterdam’s MA International Dramaturgy and MA Theatre Studies visited the Holland Festival and rehearsed different ways of reflecting on what they experienced there. The explicit experiment was developed and supervised in collaboration between the coordinator of the two MA’s Ricarda Franzen and the education department of the Holland Festival, represented by Flora Dekkers. The question of which ways of “giving back” and reflection between academia and prospective work practices as dramaturgs might be adequate to the corresponding performances was the starting point of a trajectory spanning the Holland Festival. The students chose each two performances which they attended, all of which ground-breaking in their unique ways: American Trajal Harrell offered a format of attending “work in progress”, Michel van der Aa’s work experiments with AI and opera in novel ways and Carolina Bianchi already won several awards with her second part Brotherhood of her trilogy on femicide, rape and violence.
This review was first published by the Holland Festival, reposted with permission.
This post was written by the author in their personal capacity.The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect the view of The Theatre Times, their staff or collaborators.
