Real-world media

Dream State was an inviting experience that made me consider how all-consuming dreams are. The film was shot beautifully, and the prop styling made it feel like you were in a cosy bedroom. It was interesting to read the thoughts and ideas this space brought up for other people. I thought this was executed to a professional standard, and that the group could continue their transmedia story by creating the dreams written by participants as a Part 2. Dream State was eery as it felt like I was stepping into someone else’s room without their permission—the setting itself felt like a dream. The dream journal created a conversation, or call-and-response with the audience. The act of dreaming is (mostly) universal and it was revealing to read the dreams of other people. While our dreams were all different, there was connection and comradery in the deeply personal.

Alienation was a moving, and honest depiction of life as an international student—and more universally as a misfit. Rae’s diaries were vulnerable and routed an alien’s experience on Earth in reality, and humanity. They brought a tear to my eye. I think this group created something more powerful than they even realised because the experience of not fitting in is universal. The specificity of their topic allowed them to touch on a universal truth. They showed the audience the entire experience of being an international student without changing it to make the audience comfortable. The origami gave Rae a physical presence and the polaroids allowed the audience to sit and engage with the creators in a meaningful way—which was a valuable moment of connection in a work about loneliness. This group used transmedia storytelling to enlighten an Australian audience to the experience of international students.

Entangling media

The many lives of the Capitol Theatre was an interesting look into an iconic theatre space in Melbourne. The virtual ticket stub to access the website was immersive and exciting because I didn’t know what to expect. The website was created with such care and attention, it felt like I was on an in-person walking tour. It also felt like I was watching old film rolls in the projection room—like I was getting real, authentic insight into the eras of the Capitol. The mix of written and video content is powerful and allows the audience to choose how they will consume the work. It reminds me of real-world media through its transmedia storytelling. The Capitol has had the same trajectory as many classic cinemas, but it is good to know its history and future is preserved.

The Art of Confession is another brilliant observation into the human experience of shame and how the Christian act of confession allows us to be honest and feel our shame. This group artfully shared confessions without showing their faces, mimicking the catholic confessional booth. Their mix of history and humour connected with my modern experience of confession and shame, usually done through messages, not face-to-face. Transposing a religious ritual into a secular one allowed me to be critical of confessing—why should I feel bad for the decisions I make when they are quite universal? Should I feel shame at all? The work raised a lot of questions for me as someone who is not religious.