Phantoms and Fieldwork

Presence is established as a temporary agreement in which the environment is perceived as real rather than as an effect added to an image. XR does not simulate reality; it creates conditions that allow the perceptual system to accept a coherent world, even if only briefly.

My work on presence builds on a lineage that includes Chris Watson, Michael Snow, and Andy Warhol. Watson reveals ecological listening, Snow examines perceptual time, and Warhol demonstrates how duration becomes structure.

Together, their work forms the foundation for what ppXR calls Temporal–Field Embodiment: the merging of time, field, and embodiment into a unified cultural experience.

Presence is not immersion, realism, or VR spectacle. It is a contract between: * the environment * the body * the perceptual system * the rhythm of time * the continuity of sound * the absence of manipulation

These are not stylistic preferences. They are perceptual necessities.

The body negotiates XR experiences and instinctively rejects movements it did not choose. Rapid cuts, artificial camera motion, and accelerated visuals disrupt this perceptual contract. Presence depends on temporal honesty, ecological soundfields, and gradual spatial transitions.

ppXR follows these principles naturally: long takes, a human-height perspective, Atmos field beds, and scenes that unfold through subtle, gradual change. The result is not cinematic illusion but embodied cultural presence, a way for viewers to encounter a place, moment, or community with their full perceptual system rather than through representation alone.

Extended Reality (XR) distinguishes itself from traditional screens by directly engaging the human perceptual system. Binocular vision, head tracking, and spatial audio align with the brain’s predictive models so closely that presence emerges as a temporary agreement in which the environment is perceived as real rather than as an effect layered onto an image.

As a result, XR functions as an embodied medium. Instead of presenting content at a distance, it influences posture, attention, and the micro-movements of the eyes. While cinema places the viewer in a fixed seat, XR requires a continuous negotiation of balance and orientation—leaning, turning, listening, and holding still. Narrative is expressed through bodily choreography rather than through a sequence of visual edits.

Within ppXR, editing unfolds across both temporal and spatial dimensions. A cut may appear as a shift of light, a change in the direction of sound, or a gradual adjustment in perceived depth. Understanding this embodied layer is essential for designing cultural experiences that support, rather than overwhelm, human perception.

Gestalt theory asserts that perception organises sensory input into unified wholes rather than isolated details. Within immersive extended reality (XR), this principle becomes concrete: image, sound, architecture, and movement merge into a single experiential field. Participants experience the environment as an integrated whole rather than analysing its individual components.

Drawing on Kurt Lewin’s topological psychology, XR scenes can be understood as fields structured by tensions, gradients, and potential lines of action. A corridor encourages motion; a threshold introduces resistance; a sound source pulls attention across the environment. Spatial composition, directional audio, and the participant’s orientation together establish the force lines that shape experience.

In participatory and performative XR (ppXR), authorship shifts from assembling discrete visual shots to composing stable perceptual fields. The objective is to design an environment that remains coherent whether participants turn, listen, or remain still, rather than framing isolated moments. Narrative develops through the gradual exploration of these fields, privileging the unfolding of situations over the assembly of sequential images.

In traditional documentary filmmaking, the narrative structure is predominantly shaped during editing. Filmmakers guide the viewer’s attention by choosing what to show, when to show it, and how each transition is framed.

In immersive 180° video, this approach becomes less effective. Every cut can momentarily disrupt the viewer’s sense of presence. The viewer shares the scene's space. For this reason, much of the narrative must be created within the scene itself rather than through later manipulation.

Some scenes use a fixed perspective, similar to theatrical staging, where the environment unfolds in a single, continuous view. Others employ slow, intentional camera movement to travel through the space.

In both cases, the immersive experience is authored during production rather than assembled through conventional editing. This shift requires a different narrative mindset—one that prioritises situation, atmosphere, and presence over the construction of sequential scenes.