Landmark VR Film Reveals Indigenous Encounter With Atomic Bomb Testing
Imagine witnessing the atomic tests that were performed in outback Australia in the '50s. A landmark new virtual reality film is allowing you to do just that — from the perspective of a man with no prior contact with the western world.
Collisions is the tale of Nyarri Nyarri Morgan, a revered elder of the Martu people from the remote Pilbara desert of Western Australia. He invited acclaimed artist Lynette Wallworth to help tell his story and now, people from all over the country can receive his message with the help of immersive technology. As Wallworth states, "there's what we do not know, and then, there is what we come to know."
An animation sequence punctuates the film. It's a reimagining of the moment a young Morgan, walking through the desert, first encounters European technology — one of two major ground-level nuclear tests performed at Maralinga, in South Australia. "I thought it was the spirit of my gods rising up to speak with me. And the water holes boiled," he says in the film as the user take his position through a VR headset, watching the mushroom cloud rise.
"I saw the spirit had made all the kangaroos lie down on the ground. As a gift to us of easy hunting. So we took those kangaroos and we ate them. And people were sick."
The father of the atomic bomb, J. Robert Oppenheimer appears in the desert too. The viewer is positioned in front of a projected screen, with Morgan and his family watch on. "We knew the world would not be same," Oppenheimer is saying — a line from the 1965 documentary The Decision To Drop The Bomb. "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."
It's all in line with what Wallworth has garnered from her four years with the Martu. She told Mashable: "What they care most about is giving people the sense of what it feels like to be in their country. There is no better way to have that sensation than with VR. You don't just land there, you are travelled there. We follow the kind of protocols of meeting that apply to me when I visit, so you are given context and understanding about why you are there."
She continues: "You are standing where he stood and you're seeing what he saw. The truth is, you are not removed from this story any longer. That's the power of the form. It's immersive and it involves you, it makes you present. It makes it personal."
And when it comes to educating Australia and the wider world about culture and "caring for country", it's this personalisation that can make the crucial difference in cultivating respect and concern for the land and all its people.
The notion of stewardship, of land rights and multi-generational care for the environment is in stark, shocking contrast to the short-term thinking of the Oppenheimer era and the economic drive of the mining industry.
Whether it's by provoking an audible gasp at the sight of a nuclear test's destructive power, or a sigh at the ancient beauty of nature, Collisions is affecting. How could anyone sit with an old man like Morgan, singing his traditional Songlines from on top of a hill, and not be affected?
For Wallworth, the more affected her audience is, the better. Having the film take up residence is the hallowed halls of the Art Gallery of South Australia, the Australian Centre for the Moving Image (ACMI) and the Sydney Opera House is "phenomenally important in terms of the education of people who don't know this history … sharing this story across generations is important. I don't know that is has happened before that a VR work has been given this prominence."
Collisions' screening at Sydney's Opera House coincides with Homeground, a First Nations cultural festival where Indigenous people from around the country will gather with Morgan, his wife and fellow elder Aunty Nola Taylor, and Curtis Taylor. "They are tremendously proud of the experience of Collisions and what it offers but until now it has not had the kind of audience Homeground will bring and I can only imagine what that is going to mean to them."
Morgan first saw the work in VR himself when Curtis Taylor brought him a headset. Wallworth was on the phone, waiting to hear his reaction. Over 15 minutes passed. "You know, he's remembering a lot," said Taylor. "The work impacted him powerfully because it placed him back where he stood. I didn't anticipate what that would be like for him but it's also a testament to the power of the form. He told me it was good, and I was relieved," said Wallworth.
As for the Kintyre project, the fight to halt the Martu's sovereign land being dug up for radioactive metals continues. They want what's in the ground to stay in the ground. Hopefully Wallworth's technology can help them counteract the encroaching drilling technology, fighting fire with fire. Like a back-burn, sometimes it stops the spread.
There's what we do not know, and then, there is what we come to know. This film might assist in bridging that divide.
Originally published on Mashable