Recalling a lost love in Aaron Bradbury’s lovely non-fiction piece ‘Vestige’

Vestige, a creatively imagined documentary VR piece (one that was acquired before it premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival), manifests real-life memories as telephone calls and gorgeous moving drawings. As I put on the VR headset, I find myself lost in a void; first, I hear a dial tone and then the distraught voice of Lisa Elin as she grieves over her lost husband, Erik. But I don’t see her at first. I turn to my left, and there she is. Glowing, an outline of her body.

Click, a story. Click, a lost moment. Click, click, click, dial tone.

The piece presents vibrant, sketchy versions of Lisa and Erik re-enacting their favorite memories, as Lisa tells the story of their relationship. There’s an energy to the visualizations, which were all captured using cutting-edge volumetric technology. The lines wiggle and shift, possessing an almost nervous energy. Lisa digs into her memory bank and speaks of moments spent lounging side by side in lawn chairs. Goofy selfies. Dumb private jokes. All the silly, small things that make up the bulk of a relationship and mean so much to the two people involved. Sketches of a life lived together, which take form before my eyes in the darkness.

Sometimes I turn around to see the pair behind me. Other times, they are conjured out of thin air nearly on top of me. Each scene appears as illustrations emerging from nothingness. Lisa and Erik act out a memory, as Lisa narrates, and then they both recede into the void. This happens over and over again until we find ourselves at Lisa’s side. “I only really gave a shit about him and he only really gave a shit about me,” Lisa admits, her voice breaking.

Erik dies in her arms.

Their love feels so tangible in the moments after she re-lives his death; the scene transforms and swirls into a funnel of colorful triangles, surrounding the viewer in a kaleidoscope. After several minutes of sadness and darkness, the transformtion is magical and hard to describe, as we come to an end of this journey with Lisa. Their love? It was real; it happened. Nothing can erase that, not even death. It seems almost comforting to lose myself in the storm of shapes as the whirlwind of colors envelopes my body.

Finally, taking off my headset, the half-dome, geometric installation surrounding the piece at the festival finally makes sense — echoing those same flying shapes. People experiencing the piece at Tribeca Film Festival will also have the opportunity to leave their own stories of loss after viewing Vestige.

Tucked away in a corner is a wooden phone booth complete with a rotary phone where you can record your own memories of grief for others to hear. It’s like an audio message in a bottle. And any interested passersby can pick up one of the dangling white handsets at the installation to hear a story from another person who’s also lost someone. All of their memories, even as I write this, are waiting on the other line, playing on loop, not knowing who might pick up.

I hope someone does.

Vestige 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. Vestige is expected to be released on Oculus Rift, HTC Vive and Microsoft VR headsets in Spring 2019.

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

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