Close your eyes and picture this. Stone archways, vaulted ceilings, and gorgeous stained glass windows. Angels suspended high above you, arrows nocked, wings aloft. Beautiful, rainbow tinted sunlight streams in from the East casting a warm, inviting glow onto the wooden pews. Soft chanting accompanies the bold notes of an organ, reverberating through the halls as you wander through the halls. You run your hand across the cool marble slabs, the click of your heels as it hits the floor echoing loudly. St. Andrews Cathedral is truly, without a doubt, one of the most stunning buildings you've been in.
Open your eyes, and... it's all an illusion. The unfortunate reality is that war, weather, and neglect has ground the famous St. Andrews Cathedral into nothing more than a pile of rubble. There's a wonderful facade, some nice foundation walls, but the heart of the cathedral has been gutted. You are simply standing on a well-maintained patch of grass.
For the archaeologists and ruin-lovers of the world, this isn't a problem at all. In a world of noisy construction crews and exorbitant maintenance fees, it can be a fresh change of pace to embrace something that is utterly demolished. And even outside of those of us who are especially passionate about the dead and destroyed, ruins are one of the most sought after tourist destinations in the world.
January isn't exactly the most pleasant month in the northern hemisphere, and Scotland is no exception. In fact, it's tough to find a pleasant day in Scotland at all - moody clouds, harsh winds, and a 50% chance of rain constantly looms on the horizon (pun intended). By sheer dumb luck, the second day of my life in Scotland happened to be sunny, clear skies, and low winds. A charming 16°C. A day destined for exploration.
I walked over 11km that day, which in a town that spans a grand total of 2.5km end-to-end, is quite a feet (bad pun? should I stop?). Among the quaint coffee shops, cobblestone streets, and cute museums lies a bustling town, spread across three streets. At the end, where they all converge, stands St. Andrews Cathedral, overlooking and protecting the town under its watchful gaze. As I mentioned earlier, the cathedral is in complete ruin. The very structure that the town, university, and people have built their lives around is no more.
Fast forward a couple of months, and I receive and email about a digital archaeology workshop. Some team in the university is asking for a couple of beta testers to try out their new app. I wasn't sure what it was, but it was enough of an excuse to get out of the house. After the excitement and novelty of living in a historic town dies down, braving the cold and the rain just to see some broken buildings can be quite a challenge. So I popped on my jacket, laced my boots, pocketed my external phone battery (because god forbid Apple decides to manufacture a phone that can last more than a few hours), and trundled off to the cathedral.
A small group of about 15 had assembled at the cathedral entrance. After a quick introduction and a round of names (I had forgotten who was who mid-activity), we were each handed a folder of historic maps, blueprints, and photos, dating back until the 14th century AD. Though puzzled, our curiosities were piqued. Still, no mention of the app was made. We were in the dark.
A few minutes later, we found ourselves right underneath the tall facade. A black cloth bag magically appeared from one of the project members, and she reached in to it and handed me a small cardboard object in the shape of a bulky, ugly pair of spectacles. She then handed me a phone, slid it inside the glasses, and prompted me to wear it. As a technophile, I knew what I was wearing - a pair of Google cardboard "VR" glasses, supposedly to simulate a cheap Virtual Reality experience. I was hesitant.
Within a second, my world had changed. No longer was I staring at the ruins of a 700 year old building. Instead, as I moved my head from left to right, up to down, I was at the threshold of a menacing, gargantuan cathedral. I gingerly took a few steps forward, and I was inside. Inside one of the oldest cathedrals in the world. Inside a building that had been through centuries of turmoil. Inside a building that, only a few seconds back, was a soulless, lifeless creature. It was surreal.
For the next hour, I played around with a technology that can - and will - change the way we interact with history. I saw folks with the headset strolling through the cathedral grounds as if it were the 1400s. They stepped through non-existing doorways and around pillars that were ground to the dust. They stopped at walls that, to the naked eye, were nothing more than stones piled on top of each other - the app, however, told a different story. The altar had been long gone, but within that virtual world, it was very much alive. A narrator pieced together the story of St. Andrews Cathedral, telling us tales about objects and structures that were not present in the modern day.
That virtual world became a reality. I had physically been transported to another era, an experience like no other. Before, virtual reality and augmented reality was a cool way to play video games or new platforms to improve productivity. Now, I can see it becoming the premiere educative tool. Visualizing history - literally. Experiencing the past in ways that had never been possible. A lifetime of infinite possibilities.
I generally think of history as things that happened in the past. Now, however, is it not in the future?
Visit Open Virtual Worlds for more info on VR archaeology
Open your eyes, and... it's all an illusion. The unfortunate reality is that war, weather, and neglect has ground the famous St. Andrews Cathedral into nothing more than a pile of rubble. There's a wonderful facade, some nice foundation walls, but the heart of the cathedral has been gutted. You are simply standing on a well-maintained patch of grass.
 |
| All that is left of the cathedral is a facade |
January isn't exactly the most pleasant month in the northern hemisphere, and Scotland is no exception. In fact, it's tough to find a pleasant day in Scotland at all - moody clouds, harsh winds, and a 50% chance of rain constantly looms on the horizon (pun intended). By sheer dumb luck, the second day of my life in Scotland happened to be sunny, clear skies, and low winds. A charming 16°C. A day destined for exploration.
I walked over 11km that day, which in a town that spans a grand total of 2.5km end-to-end, is quite a feet (bad pun? should I stop?). Among the quaint coffee shops, cobblestone streets, and cute museums lies a bustling town, spread across three streets. At the end, where they all converge, stands St. Andrews Cathedral, overlooking and protecting the town under its watchful gaze. As I mentioned earlier, the cathedral is in complete ruin. The very structure that the town, university, and people have built their lives around is no more.
Fast forward a couple of months, and I receive and email about a digital archaeology workshop. Some team in the university is asking for a couple of beta testers to try out their new app. I wasn't sure what it was, but it was enough of an excuse to get out of the house. After the excitement and novelty of living in a historic town dies down, braving the cold and the rain just to see some broken buildings can be quite a challenge. So I popped on my jacket, laced my boots, pocketed my external phone battery (because god forbid Apple decides to manufacture a phone that can last more than a few hours), and trundled off to the cathedral.
A small group of about 15 had assembled at the cathedral entrance. After a quick introduction and a round of names (I had forgotten who was who mid-activity), we were each handed a folder of historic maps, blueprints, and photos, dating back until the 14th century AD. Though puzzled, our curiosities were piqued. Still, no mention of the app was made. We were in the dark.
 |
| A few compound walls still stand. Most, however, are in ruin. |
Within a second, my world had changed. No longer was I staring at the ruins of a 700 year old building. Instead, as I moved my head from left to right, up to down, I was at the threshold of a menacing, gargantuan cathedral. I gingerly took a few steps forward, and I was inside. Inside one of the oldest cathedrals in the world. Inside a building that had been through centuries of turmoil. Inside a building that, only a few seconds back, was a soulless, lifeless creature. It was surreal.
For the next hour, I played around with a technology that can - and will - change the way we interact with history. I saw folks with the headset strolling through the cathedral grounds as if it were the 1400s. They stepped through non-existing doorways and around pillars that were ground to the dust. They stopped at walls that, to the naked eye, were nothing more than stones piled on top of each other - the app, however, told a different story. The altar had been long gone, but within that virtual world, it was very much alive. A narrator pieced together the story of St. Andrews Cathedral, telling us tales about objects and structures that were not present in the modern day.
That virtual world became a reality. I had physically been transported to another era, an experience like no other. Before, virtual reality and augmented reality was a cool way to play video games or new platforms to improve productivity. Now, I can see it becoming the premiere educative tool. Visualizing history - literally. Experiencing the past in ways that had never been possible. A lifetime of infinite possibilities.
I generally think of history as things that happened in the past. Now, however, is it not in the future?
Visit Open Virtual Worlds for more info on VR archaeology
