Tribeca Immersive 2018 Diary, Part 1: Alice Through A Looking Glass

On ‘Terminal 3': a ground-breaking augmented reality piece tackling Islamophobia

I’m talking to a hologram in a holding room. Through the AR headset, I can see her “sitting” on a tall stool in the corner, not exactly at ease. She appears as a low fidelity vector version of her “body” — a series of moving waveforms. The lines which make up the matrix of her body ebb and flow as she speaks, shifting colors. She looks at me as she is talking. She shows me her passport, but I can’t quite make out her name in the vectorized graphics.

I ask her some questions about Islam, following the prompts projected into my field of vision. The device picks up my voice. She responds accordingly. Her voice fills my ears through headphones, but I still wish I could see her face. At times, the Minecraft-esque grid of this woman’s “body” starts to fill in as she opens up about her life. For a moment, it feels like she may fully come into focus, but then the colors recede as she settles back into the role of interview subject.

I’m an immigration agent at an airport and this female passenger has been pulled aside for secondary screening. I alone have the power to let her into the United States. And I alone am responsible if I make a mistake and let the wrong person in. So how do you know who you can believe?

The HoloLens I’m wearing feels heavy perched on top of my head, its weight pressing down on the bridge of my nose. It’s just me, a metal table, and the hologram in this white, sterile chamber; we are alone, together.

1RIC’s beautifully-crafted Terminal 3 had its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival Virtual Arcade this past week. The piece brings the Muslim travel ban to life in an interactive, augmented reality experience, with a twist. The work is based upon director Asad J. Malik’s first-hand experiences traveling as a Pakistani man. 1RIC’s work is rooted in what Malik calls “cultural augmentation—a displacement of holograms that allows viewers to access what their environment would regard as contentious, controversial opinions.” The holograms (of which there are six in this work) are all based upon real Muslims with a wide variety of backgrounds; each participant of Terminal 3 may end up speaking to a different traveler dependent upon when they come to the festival, which is part of the point.

The hologram I’m speaking to on this particular day identifies herself as a Malaysian-born musician, a feminist, and a Muslim, embracing all of her contradictions. My interview subject talks about misogyny, the role of women in Islam, differing interpretations of the Quran, and of her activism work. It feels surprisingly natural to speak words into the air and have a hologram respond. She seems to smile for a moment, recalling a happy memory.

I feel myself bracing for the other shoe to drop in the form of a wrong phrase or a wrong answer to a question. The interface of the story tries to guide me towards other subject matter but I find myself resisting at every decision point. I forget where we are, and why we’re here until a disembodied voice interrupts our conversation. I am running out of time. The voice on the other end sounds annoyed.

I need to decide: let her into the US or to send her back? It feels perverse and uncomfortable to judge another person after a single short conversation: even worse to codify my decision by speaking aloud, and possibly banish someone from their home.

I realize I don’t even know her name.

I left Terminal 3 humbled, grateful, and a little flabbergasted, with a new perspective on what it’s like to be a Muslim-presenting person in our troubled times. The unique capabilities of the HoloLens give the participant in Terminal 3 a sense of both virtual presence and physical presence — a combination not commonly found. The result is a moving, surprising experience with echoes of Nonny de la Peña’s work or Alejandro G. Inarritu’s Carne y Arena.

I’d go so far as say Terminal 3 is one of this year’s must-see pieces at Tribeca Immersive, combining augmented reality with actual reality, confronting participants with their own prejudices as they take on the role of an interrogator and witness firsthand the consequences of their actions.

So, go. See it for yourself.

And imagine yourself, on the other side of that glass.

Terminal 3 continues at the Tribeca Film Festival’s Virtual Arcade through April 28. Tickets are $40 for each 3 hour time slot. Capacity is limited and many exhibits will have long waits; it is suggested that visitors arrive 30+ minutes early before each session.

Catch up on all of our Tribeca Immersive 2018 diary entries.

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