RETURNING TO HUMANITY: A PERSONAL PERSPECTIVE

As one of the opening presenters at October’s IMERSA Montréal Summit, I had the honor of sharing a rather unconventional talk that was not about immersive media, well not entirely. Because this message was so personal and so different from anything I had presented previously to the IMERSA audience, I was concerned that it was going to be met with polite but blank stares. Thankfully, from the overwhelming comments I received from the delegates in attendance, this very human talk definitely seemed to resonate deeply in the hearts and minds of those who heard it. That warm response encouraged me to adapt my talk in this article. May it create in you inspiration and hope for a brighter future together.

I have always had a deep love for music. As a kid I would spin albums on my Mickey Mouse turntable that folded up into what resembled a little briefcase. I would memorize and sing along with my favorite songs. In high school I was in three bands, including my own short-lived rock band, plus I played guitar and piano. I knew I was going to be a music major. However, the fact that I was probably not going to become a famous pop star motivated me after two years to switch to film production and earn a communications degree.

In 2018, Kathy and I made our big move to California, the fulfillment of a lifelong dream I had to live and work in the Los Angeles film and entertainment industry. This was a time of new beginnings with seemingly unlimited opportunities. Of course, as life goes, there are always bumps in the road and my path was filled with small ones, and a few big ones, that we navigated as I created my own production company and secured two regular, long-term clients. The future seemed filled with hope, immersed in a community of creators.

Unexpected Change
Then, two unexpected things happened. First, in late 2019, my daughter Jessica and her boyfriend Evan each got new jobs in California. Jessica was very eager to follow us to California, since she, too, loved the idea of living out here, especially after our annual vacation treks to Disneyland. That is a place that has been a touchstone for our family since she was a baby. Jessica’s plan was to move in with us for two weeks while she and Evan found an apartment and got settled into new jobs scheduled to start in April 2020.

Well, we all know what happened in March 2020. COVID-19 happened. Our daughter had already sold her house and was committed to her new job. There was no stopping her move that happened in early April, just after we had spent two weeks in quarantine, to “slow the flow” of the virus. As planned, they moved in with us for two weeks which eventually stretched to five months. During that time, we went from only two people to four people, two dogs, and one cat, all in a modestly sized 1,500 square-foot house. To say we shared close quarters would be a generous understatement.

Not only were we in close proximity, but we lived together in a form of solitary confinement. To make matters worse, our reaction to this invisible threat to our lives created lockdowns, social distancing, and masking. The media provided us with a constant daily update on COVID case numbers and the death toll as it was continuing to mount. These responses combined to form a culture of fear and isolation. Plus, our need to stay at home was reinforced with less need to go out. Almost nothing was open anyway. Even our beloved Disneyland closed and remained shuttered for about a year and a half.
Not too far into the lockdown, Hollywood did something interesting and unprecedented — they opened Pandora’s Box by offering first-run features on streaming platforms or for sale as digital downloads, shrinking the theatrical release window to zero. In an instant, the appeal of seeing movies in a theater with an audience evaporated, and this has seemingly changed the relationship between audiences and movies forever.

As the world struggled to figure out how to stop the virus, the constant reinforcement of fear brought constant stress to our bodies and our general well-being. According to the American Psychological Association, lengthy periods of stress can weaken the body’s immune system responses. This could well have created more, not less, opportunities for people to be susceptible to the virus.

That time of physical closeness inside our home, in stark contrast the physical distancing we experienced everywhere else, shone a spotlight on our very different perspectives and interests. At first, we kind of stayed in our own spaces within our house. We each played our own music and watched our own shows. One particular album from MSC, the worship band at Mosaic (our church in Hollywood), became a lifeline and defined that time in history for us. One song in particular, Everlasting Light, contained these hope-sustaining lyrics:
You are the brilliance, the dream
Evidence of things unseen
Even the darkest days are temporary

Still, we tried to find community everywhere we could while trying to avoid COVID. It wasn’t easy. We went to the ocean where we could only walk on -- but not sit on -- the beach. We went to restaurants after they opened outdoor dining. Sometimes we just took long drives in the car together.

Cultural Challenges
At first, we just lived our lives as if it was just the two of us, and in the process, unintentionally imposed our personal culture (lifestyle, preferences, perspectives, etc.) on Jessica and Evan. Not surprisingly, things got awkward. On one particular drive together, I was playing music from MSC in a rotation of other more spiritual music, and Evan simply had enough. His frustration bubbled over as he mustered as much composure as he could to ask if we could PLEASE listen to some other kinds of music. Rather than taking offense, I took the hint. To be magnanimous, I said, “Hey Siri, play Elton John music.” I have no idea what Siri heard, which is not unusual of course, but suddenly this aggressive, angry, percussive rap music screamed through the car speakers. I almost drove off the road. I mashed the audio power button in the dashboard to shut it off, and everyone laughed. It was exactly what we needed to break the tension, and it became a turning point for us to move forward with a more accepting and integrated life together. We began to embrace their perspective and were intentional about providing space for them to share their interests and viewpoints with us. In these actions, we planted the seeds of community. We found a new start to our relationship together.

All the while, COVID sat as a grim backdrop to our lives. The disease created tragic losses for so many families. It also multiplied anxiety, depression, and suicide across our society and across the world. These are the obvious impacts.

In an attempt to survive the pandemic, we unintentionally subjected ourselves to the effects of solitary confinement, a situation that had previously been reserved in human history as a brutal punishment for the most hardened criminals. What’s worse is that we accepted solitude as the new normal. People became pathogens. “Don’t breathe on one another. Don’t stand close. Don’t break the bubble of protection.” When we walked the dogs, others out for a walk would often cross to the other side of the street to avoid contact with us. It was such a strange and dysfunctional time, especially since we were not created to be alone.

We are all survivors of some of the most intensely emotional and psychological traumas in history. We need to be aware of this. We have to acknowledge this in order to begin our recovery. Just take a moment right now to consider this. Maybe even say it out loud. We have been through debilitating trauma, and we need healing.

Summarizing Impacts
In my estimation, there are three ways that COVID has had a deep impact on us:
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Our need for intimacy is greater

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Our need for meaning is greater

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Our need for a sense of destiny is greater

Our overall sense of uncertainty and fear went deep. Would there be a bright future after all of this?
As I mentioned above, I love music. It is embedded deep into my DNA. I even love to listen to film scores, something that drives Kathy crazy, especially when we’re in the car together. One of her least favorite things is when I play Disney music on the drive to Disneyland. She would say, “We’re going to hear it all day at the park. Do we really need to listen to it in the car as well?” I would say yes. Kathy would respectfully disagree. Live music is especially powerful because it is not possible without community. Each musician has a small but vital part to play, and without everyone playing together in perfect synchronicity, it is just noise. In the darkest moment of the pandemic, I saw a video on YouTube that showed a flash mob slowly forming to play Beethoven’s Ode to Joy from his Ninth Symphony in a crowded public square. (Here’s a link to the video: http:// bit.ly/3GojcTp). You should definitely take five minutes to watch this.

I was moved to tears not just by the power of the music and the reactions of the unsuspecting audience, but also by the instant realization that there was a real chance that events like this may never happen again. I couldn’t imagine a world without music. The thought shook me to my very essence.

Would there be music again? Not just music recorded in isolation in a studio, but live music with musicians playing together in bands and orchestras, choirs, street performers, and so on…
Thankfully, the answer is yes. In September I went to the Hollywood Bowl to see John Williams conduct the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra. John is arguably the world’s greatest living composer and my personal favorite. At 90 years young, he conducted the second hour of the concert and did four encores, ending with his timeless composition, The Imperial March from Star Wars - Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back. It was such a magical evening.

A week or so later, my sister organized a concert in a park in Santa Monica through the Arts Council. A number of local bands performed, and a few hundred people enjoyed the music and food from their picnic lunches or from a variety of food trucks.

Where Are We Now?
Just from these examples, it looks like we’re back, right? Everything is good again, isn’t it?
Well, we may look like we’re back… but in some ways, many if not most of us are still broken. We may be pretending that everything is OK without taking the necessary steps to deal with the aftermath of the trauma we all have experienced. As a result, we are largely remaining more isolated than ever before and somewhat guarded about re-engaging with others in social environments. Now is the time to start moving at our own pace back toward community.

Without community we are not fully human. Community creates belonging, acceptance, collaboration, fulfillment, and hope. We were not created to be alone. We have been given an opportunity to reflect on what is most important in our lives and re-evaluate the impacts that our actions (or inactions) have on those around us. It is time for all of us to make the most of our immersive wizardry and become more aware and responsive to our neighbors and families.

There is hope coming from an unusual place. Hollywood movies don’t have the draw they used to have, as I said, now that so many of them come directly to streaming platforms. Avatar: The Way of Water and Top Gun: Maverick are two key exceptions, mainly due to the giant movie screen spectacle they promise and the strong word-of­mouth they have received. Conversely, as attendance at movies has been dwindling, immersive experiences have been gaining traction. These spaces and events have been effective in helping people leave their homes and engage socially with others.

Here’s an example. In March of 2021, Netflix rented a vacant, multi­story parking garage in downtown Los Angeles and transformed it into the Stranger Things Drive-Thru Experience. As the name implies, it was an attraction designed for guests to remain in their cars and drive through key moments from Stranger Things - Season Three. It was absolutely unique and purpose-built with COVID protocols in mind: minimal human interaction and portable isolation provided by your own vehicle with the windows rolled up tightly.

The flow through the various levels of the parking garage, in which different scenes from the series played out, was a bit confusing at times. Nevertheless, people flocked to the attraction because of its uniqueness and promise of an immersive experience they could not get at home, even in the middle of a pandemic.

Because of their current ability to draw an audience, shared immersive spaces can build bridges to connect us. Let’s use the momentum these experiences are opening up to us. Let’s give people a reason to leave their homes AND spaces for them to connect. Providing intentional connection spaces is key, and crafting those spaces creatively should be our overriding priority.

We built community with Evan and Jessica in our home through intentionality. We created space to have difficult conversations that went way outside our comfort zone, topics that good manners teach you to avoid. This was not an easy thing to do, but we listened with open hearts, and we shared from a posture of love and acceptance. This investment in one another led us from isolation, to conversation, to integration.

We became a new community built on mutual respect and acceptance. We didn’t always agree with each other, but we created a safe space to share and to listen. We created a mini community that helped sustain us through the pandemic. We rediscovered what it looked like to embrace our shared humanity and allowed it to unite us.

Thanks to our commitment to our small community, we now have a wedding in our future. Evan proposed to Jessica on her birthday in 2022, at Disneyland of course. Because of the investment the four of us made in our little community, we share a deep connection and closeness with our daughter and future son-in-law that will last a lifetime. We could have missed this and could have had a very different outcome from our five months in quarantine together. We fought to create community at a time when we desperately needed it.

As we discovered, we must reconnect with other humans. We need a new start. We must continue to find ways to reclaim our humanity. Together we can create a better future.

Where Does the Immersive Community Fit In?
As developers and presenters of immersive content, we have a rare opportunity to help heal our society. With great intention, let us continue to create virtual experiences that attract an engaged audience and that inspire and stimulate conversation and connection. Let’s provide spaces for people to engage with one another and opportunities for them to serve our institutions together. If we cultivate and curate these spaces, we can help build self-sustaining small communities that are open to growing and welcoming others.

We must be intentional about creating spaces for community to happen. We need to do more than just create compelling immersive content. Returning to humanity means building on what unites us. This requires us to expand our reach to people that may not think like us or share our values.
During the pandemic, I had to open up my life and expand my bubble. I discovered that perspective comes from listening and understanding.

When I’m faced with uncomfortable conversations, I have to remind myself that no one is the villain of their own story. In humility, I have to admit that I don’t know everything, and I’m certainly not right about everything. There is so much I don’t know and so many opportunities to learn and grow as a human. An expanded perspective equals an enriched life.

Let’s not create a world without music. Every instrument has inherent value and uniqueness. Let’s invite all the instruments to the party, not just the ones we happen to like the most.

COVID didn’t create ideological separation, it only amplified what was already happening; cell phones, social media, and ideological polarization were already pulling us into emotional and cultural isolation. How many times were we out with people who, instead of being present with us, were on their phones talking to people who weren’t there, posting on Instagram, etc? I have been guilty of that as well. We were already going in a bad direction, and going back to that normal is not what we need. We need to create a better future for ourselves and our children.

Stranger Things - The Drive Thru Experience created an audience draw but not a community. This was a bit of a missed opportunity. We must create opportunities to cultivate community.
Music requires breath, proximity with others, and community working together in perfect harmony and synchronicity. COVID polluted our breath, distanced our proximity, and isolated us from community, and in a larger part separated us from our shared humanity. We are better than this.

Community starts with you making a decision to engage with authenticity, transparency, and a posture of acceptance. Community grows in this environment. Remember that individually we are incomplete. We each crave community, acceptance, and belonging. Let’s create spaces for our audiences to connect with one another in compelling ways once we have drawn them out of their homes with our immersive spaces.

A New Beginning
As a broader culture and as a world, we are at the precipice of a new start with nearly unlimited opportunities. As immersive experience creators and venue operators, we have an opportunity right now to restructure our regional communities as well as our global communities that span across nations, ideologies, and across hundreds of perspectives, personalities, and passions. We don’t have to live in a world without music. Community IS music.

We need to embrace this opportunity to participate in organizations such as IPS, IMERSA, and GSCA that embody a community of people who are passionate about the potential and impact of immersive media.

We share a common interest in creating powerful immersive experiences, and, on a greater level, we have a shared humanity that unites us. Let’s be intentional about connecting with one another and taking the first steps to build our community together. Each of us is a vital part of this symphony we are writing together. I can’t wait to hear the music we will create.
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Michael Daut is a member of the IMERSA Board of Directors. He is a producer of immersive video through his own company, Michael Daut Productions, https:// michaeldaut.com/
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