“Sometimes the best stories are woven from threads you can’t see—but you can feel.”
Back in 2018, we found ourselves on a rare and wonderful mission: to bring textile art into virtual reality. Four artists. Four of their chosen pieces. One headset—and endless possibilities. This wasn’t about simply displaying artwork; it was about reimagining what it means to experience it.
We created four distinct “planets”—virtual worlds, each custom-built to reflect the spirit and emotion of an artwork. The first: a faded post-revolutionary square, somewhere between nostalgia and stillness. A portrait of Che Guevara made from film strips hung dramatically between buildings. The atmosphere: humid and quiet, except for drifting Cuban melodies. In this world, users could open dusty car doors, tinker with a piano, or just wander in the glow of memory.
Next came the surrealist dreamscape: a desert, Dalí-esque, where enormous hats floated like islands in the sky. One artist’s love of elaborate headwear inspired us to build control panels inside the hats themselves. You’d float, tinker, and interact from within your hat, drifting through quiet strangeness. Many visitors described it as calming, even meditative.
Then came the labyrinth: cold concrete walkways twisted in concentric circles, surrounded by dark, rushing water. The goal was to reach the center—slowly, carefully. Underneath the water, silhouettes of figures drifted silently. A reflection of struggle, perhaps—but a gripping one, unforgettable in its emotional weight.
And finally, a world of mystery: a starlit forest with towering, hand-knitted chapels. These quiet cathedrals of yarn glowed softly. Entering one, you could sound its bell and feel the trees respond in stillness. It was the most visited of all the planets, maybe because it felt like stepping into a fairytale—or a childhood memory.
This project reminded us why we do what we do. The early stages were filled with wild sketches, jokes that turned into features, and more than a few “can we actually build this?” moments. We weren’t just showcasing art—we were building worlds around it.