Prepared for NYU’s Marron Institute by Angelisa Miranda

Although virtual reality (VR) was originally developed to build more immersive environments for video games, in recent years it has been used therapeutically to reduce stress in individuals who are prone to severe anxiety (Opris, Pintea, García‐Palacios, Botella, Stefan, David, 2012). In terms of its application as an intervention strategy for individuals with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), VR has shown promising results as a substitute for imaginal experiences in social cognition training (Kandalaft, Didehbani, et al. 2012), travel training, and environment intervention (Bernardes, Barros,  Simoes, Castelo-Branco, 2015).

Applied behavioral analysis (ABA), the standard therapy used to treat ASD individuals, attempts to address general fears and anxieties through graduated exposure. When visiting a new place, the first phase of graduated exposure may be “imaginal desensitization; however, individuals with ASD have difficulties with imagination” (Maskey, Rodgers, McConachie, Parr, 2014). This is often a debilitating limitation as it fortifies the barrier between individuals with autism and the resources established for their aid and comfort. In a school setting, this might mean that a student with ASD is emotionally unable to visit a special education office, a school library, or a new classroom. 

A study conducted by Newcastle University in England attempted to address this issue through the use of virtual reality environments (VRE). In this study, VRE primed students for intimidating experiences that they could not easily imagine, such as going shopping (Maskey, et al. 2014). Following 5 VRE exposure sessions lasting between 20-30 minutes each, individuals with ASD showed significant improvement when asked about their target fear, while a select number of participants felt they had overcome their fear completely. 

Similarly, this randomized control trial will use 360 video and VR technology to simulate the experience of visiting a new and unfamiliar location, allowing students with autism to develop a level of comfort and familiarity before they attempt to visit in real life. In this way, VR could be used as an antecedent intervention, reducing feelings of anxiety and panic that typically prevent individuals with ASD from accessing necessary assistance in a school setting, and more generally, in daily life. 

References: 

Bernardes, M., Barros, F., Simoes, M., Castelo-Branco, M. (2015). 2015 International Conference on Virtual Rehabilitation (ICVR), Valencia, 2015, 127-128.

doi: 10.1109/ICVR.2015.7358609

Kandalaft, M. R., Didehbani, N., Krawczyk, D. C., Allen, T. T., & Chapman, S. B. (2012). Virtual Reality Social Cognition Training for Young Adults with High-Functioning Autism. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 43(1), 34-44. doi:10.1007/s10803-012-1544-6 

Maskey, M. ; Lowry, J. ; Rodgers, J. ; McConachie, H. ; Parr, J.R. (2014). Reducing Specific Phobia/ Fear in Young People with Autism Spectrum Disorders (ASDs) Through a Virtual Reality Environment Intervention. PLoS ONE, 2, Vol.9(7). Retrieved from http://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0100374. 

Opris, D, Pintea, S., García‐Palacios, A., Botella, C., Szamosközi, S., David, D. (2012). Virtual Reality Exposure Therapy in Anxiety Disorders: a Quantitative Meta-analysis. Depression and Anxiety, 29 (2), 85-93.

House of Tales

Theater Review for Stage Raw

Reviewed by Angie Hoover

Published on 6.11.18

House of Tales, written and directed by Changting Lu, is a tragedy, but not in the way it’s supposed to be.

 More logic puzzle than work of art, the show follows an experimental format that uses archetypal imagery and conceptual language to present societal order as a threat to the human spirit. 

The lights come up, and viewers are instantly struck with the stuff of SNL parody: four solemn performers stand on stage holding bright orange traffic cones. They move, then stop in rhythm with the ticking of a metronome. A man in a windbreaker approaches and upon reaching the stage, he struggles — however unintentionally — to lift a cumbersome pylon to his mouth. “Ideology! Comparative Analysis! Social Order!” he exclaims before returning to his place in the aisle. In his absence, the performers discover folk tales that cannot and do not exist in a culture that values structure above poetry and art. This cycle occurs three times before culminating in a display that takes a page or two out of Tommy Wisseau’s book of acting techniques.

While the ensemble of artists, hailing from such esteemed colleges as UCLA, USC, and Cal-Arts, exude a palpable love for art, theatre, and performance, their presentation is derivative, pulling from influences that theatre students are institutionalized to revere but not necessarily comprehend. That being said, an intention to communicate ideas visually and unconventionally is often the starting point for innovative theatre. For a collective in its artistic infancy, it is all but necessary to venture into the realms of imitation and experimentation before reaching maturity.

The production is disjointed, messy, and desperate to be original, but in its desperation, it is somewhat endearing. There is no doubt that this collective is passionate about performance art and that their contrived efforts are merely a stage in their artistic development. The desire to give insight to the audience is clear, but a production can’t succeed on artistic intention alone. House of Tales tries so incredibly hard to do everything right, but ultimately, it reads as a collective of amateurs playing at an art form they don’t yet understand.  

The Complex Hollywood, The Dorie Theatre , 6476 Santa Monica Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90038; Sunday, 4:30 p.m.; Through June 23; http://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/4948 or (323) 465-0383; Running Time: 60 mins with no intermission 

Cabaret Consensual and Issues of Duality in the Quest for Queer Visibility
Queer Life & Theater/Cabaret Consensual for This Stage L.A., Written by Angie Hoover/Angelisa Miranda. Published  8.9.18

The performance room at The Three Clubs is, in essence, a side closet in a straight bar. But it is not the closet of shame and doubt that imprisoned LGBTQIA during The Gay Dark Ages; it is a new closet with cocktails, comedians, celebrated sexual deviance, and the opportunity for queers and their allies to convene without fear of judgment. To be wholly candid, safe spaces such as these are something that I criticize in my personal life; the obsession with politically correct language, the vigilant and angry exclusivity, the hypocrisy of gathering oppressed people who ultimately wish to oppress their oppressors–it all feels like a recipe for stagnancy. And after all, a closet is a closet. But after speaking with Bitsy La Bourbon, founder of sexual assault activism group, More Than No, and producer of Cabaret Consensual, it is plainer to recognize how difficult it is to play a part in increasing queer visibility, and how any attempt to gather the community can inspire projects for more focused systemic change.

An assault survivor and former addict, Bitsy offers insight that is highly motivated by personal traumas, giving her a powerful relatability and strength. Despite her status as an icon of openness, however, she approaches questions about her work with a sort of restrained professionalism, and in many ways, it is this reserve that revealed to me the internal conflict queers feel when they must be both empathetic and forward-thinking. Also illuminated, was the pressure leaders feel to build outlets for emotions that are discordant, namely aggression and acceptance. There is a need for forceful momentum when it comes to increasing visibility and fostering respect for queer people, but there is also a need for cautiousness when dealing with a large group of traumatized people. But when a single person tries to be both the voice of catharsis and the voice of revolution, progress is muddied.

Personally, Bitsy desires more spaces for anger and more uproar among allies who sometimes seem complacent, but as a producer, she wishes to create a respite from those types of negative and sometimes painful emotions. Together with spaces where anger and retribution are central, she believes her event can catalyze the healing process and provide clarity of purpose, and she acknowledges that the lack of other perspectives is problematic; She remarks: “Cycling through emotional stages is essential to moving forward. It allows for a full scope of reflection, and that helps us know what progress looks like.”

Although More than No and Cabaret Consensual champion survivors of sexual assault regardless of how they identify, Bitsy felt it important to dedicate a select night to queer performance art, with careful consideration given to diversity and representation in the realms of gender and race. As she explains, “sexual assault survivors are a minority group unlike any other because any person can all of a sudden become a part of it and there are certain minorities that experience violence at a much higher rate. The odds of our community experiencing assault is very high– assault is experienced at the highest rate among trans and bisexual, people of color so representation is extremely important.” These statistics indicate a community that is inherently mixed, so it is essential to book entertainers who sometimes fall outside of  her immediate circle of friends to ensure that all voices are heard and equality is actively maintained. Again, fostering inclusion here is complex as there are many contradicting viewpoints.

The potential friction here is avoided by directing attendees toward consent and open discussion about kink and other unconventionalities. Using provocative performances in the genres of storytelling, burlesque, and stand-up comedy to challenge widely held ideas about sexuality, pleasure, and intimate connection, the cabaret not only informs, but endears its audience to the kinds of issues that are ignored even among friends for fear of inciting conflict. Closeness is cultivated easily and quickly in such a comfortable and inviting space, and although this queer utopia doesn’t directly galvanize people to envision clear, direct goals, it provides what many more hostile iterations of Queer Pride cannot achieve: unification and hope for progress.

Girls on Film: Reevaluating Nostalgia in The Great Gatsby 

Event Review for The Show Tell Project 

Reviewed by Angie Hoover 7.26.13

Last night I attended Doug Benson’s Interruption of The Great Gatsby at The Cinefamily. I hadn’t seen the film, but had heard that it was a big, awful mess designed to win over young viewers with brain-numbing hip-hop music and party culture extravagance. I couldn’t wait for the mocking to begin. But something unexpected happened between Benson’s “Does this movie take place on Earth?” and Thomas Lennon’s “Can anybody tell me who that character is? For a million dollars? Anyone?”— I became interested.

Like a lot of people who heard about Luhrmann’s Gatsby before seeing it in a theater, I went in expecting to be offended by the off-base portrayal of the Jazz Age. Because I admittedly adopt the type of unfounded nostalgia that no person my age should. As the camera swooped into a lavish hotel room and the thumping bass of club music played over the speakers, my instinct was to say “Hey! THAT’S NOT HOW IT WAS! ” But I realized then, that I had no right to think that because all my ideas of The Jazz Age are based on images from Boardwalk Empire and Betty Boop. 

It’s true that the emotional nuances of the original story are stomped on by Luhrmann’s signature vulgarity. And it’s true that he made Gatsby’s house look like a rap music video, but when we strip it down isn’t Gatsby an excessively rich dude who throws parties littered with drunk girls, booming music, celebrities, and free booze?…  The interpretation isn’t exactly off the mark.

Luhrmann’s movies are often panned, but I really think that he has a talent for showing us that young, stupid people are young and stupid no matter what backdrop you throw them against. We want to believe that we’ve missed out on something, that superficiality is just the oozy afterbirth of the 1980s, and that our beloved Jazz Age was better than whatever we’re living in now. But the shallowness that we criticize without restraint in our own time, existed without question, in the times that we idealize.

It was not a tale of disillusionment ..or the hopelessness of time, but I left the film wanting to understand my attachment to worlds that can no longer be accessed and my need to believe that  the magic so absent in the world today existed decades ago