ou're on a plane, heading to a tropical island. Suddenly, the floor begins to shake. The pilot confirms you're in trouble and touches down on a nearby mountaintop. But no sooner do you stop than the shaking resumes -- you've landed atop a dormant volcano, and it's about to blow. Horrified, you see the crater fill with fire and feel a blast of hot air rolling toward the plane. At the last minute, your pilot starts the engine . . . Relax, this is situation normal in the Virtual Reality Museum of Singapore. Here, virtual reality (VR) goggles, blue-screen video, and other cybertechnology transform museum goers from passive onlookers into active participants in the world of art. In the Indonesian and Chinese Houses section, visitors put on head-mounted displays (HMDs) and explore the ancient architecture of homes in Suzhon, China, and Sumatra, Indonesia. On the dance floor, they can waltz with a computer-generated partner who follows their every move. Even traditional exhibits offer a twist: Using VR goggles, visitors can "pick up" and examine artifacts such as pottery and masks. And in a section called Cybertour, they strap on an HMD and grip a joystick to tour the Singapore Zoological Gardens and Bright Itill Temple, a local landmark. Cybershopping is also available in a virtual replica of an existing mall. Shoppers can interact with other customers or ask for assistance from a virtual salesperson. Singapore's VR Museum is one of a growing number of institutions using technology to bring more of the world and the past within reach. Others include the Natural History Museum in London and the de Young Museum in San Francisco, which has its own virtual Vesuvius -- an exhibit that recreates the eruption that buried Pompeii. In these and other ways, virtual reality museums are exploiting what the art critic Robert Hughes once called "the shock of the new" -- the power of new thoughts to make art fresh again.
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