An Interview with Stanisław Liguziński VR Creator & VR/XR Programmer

Interview with Stanisław Liguziński by Suzie Toumeh

📖 Interview Summary

This interview explores the development of ROAMance, a VR experience designed to subvert the superficiality of modern dating apps by utilizing non-naturalistic, gender-neutral avatars and a level progression that moves participants from individuality to a shared collective action. Stan moves beyond the label of VR as an "empathy machine," and advocates for "presence design" and "approximation," arguing that creators must intentionally "lay the bricks" to ground a user's identity and purpose within a virtual world rather than just relying on a 360-degree camera. The conversation showcases how the true power of immersive media can be achieved through elegant and thoughtful design rather than massive budgets.

The Philosophy of ROAMance (VR): Reversing the Swipe


Suzie: How would you describe the experience of ROAMance for someone who has never used VR? What are the core feelings you want people to walk away with?

Facilitating the Encounter

Stan: I always start with the fact that it's an experience that facilitates the encounter between two people. Ideally, it’s strangers, but of course, we've seen many instances where it's actual friends. We have seen that those are the two sets of circumstances that work best: strangers at the top, and then if people know each other well, they can still have a playful time together because they can play around with potentially not knowing each other or exploring their relationship.

The Critique of Dating App Culture

Stan: What we were aiming at is this realization that a lot in our culture, when people encounter each other, is superficial and based on looks. This is best embodied in dating apps where you open the app and you swipe left or right. Basically, in that split of a second, you might be eliminating a meaningful encounter from your life, just based on how someone looks or the aesthetics of an image that you just don't appreciate-you find it "kitsch" or something. We wanted to reverse that.

Designing the Expressive Avatar

Stan: In ROAMance, you enter the experience and you don't know who is on the other end. Throughout that journey, there are moments where you can design each other's avatars, but they are also like that on purpose. We didn't want to go with any natural skin tones, natural looks, or gender-specific elements. Basically, it's more about: what color is the other person? Is that person something small or big?
 These features, in the end, create very expressive avatars.

Curiosity, Fun, and a Quiz

Stan: We wanted this to be a playful encounter where you can really tell if the person on the other end is curious and daring, and if they are willing to let go and have fun. There are also moments where we inspire a deeper conversation with the quiz. Some of the questions are silly, but some of them can actually tap into political views or other elements, without going too "hardcore" into confrontational elements. It is curiosity and fun, that curiosity that comes from meeting another human being who is on the other end.

The Body in VR: Proximity and Progression


Suzie: ROAMance deals with these intimate moments in a more practical sense, paddling on a boat together or learning opinions. How do you design for that? Did you focus on sound, proximity, or lighting?

The Added Value of Embodiment

Stan: I We worked a lot with proximity. We wanted to create and stage different situations where you negotiate how far or near you are, and how you want to actually approach each other in bodily terms. I think that embodiment is what makes VR different from a chat on social media. Some of our intuitive behaviors translate to VR: basically, if you don't feel comfortable with shortening the distance in real life, you will probably not feel so comfortable shortening the distance in the experience. We wanted to create different configurations in different levels on how far or near you start from each other.

Negotiating space on a Raft

Stan: We never forced you to be unable to negotiate that distance. For example, you're in a more confined space, that’s why we didn't make it a boat, but a raft. On a raft, you still can, if you don't feel comfortable, stand apart. We analyzed quite a lot of movies about encounters between two people, especially conversational narratives like Richard Linklater's Before Sunrise trilogy or the films of Hong Sang-soo. We tried to study how Linklater builds that mise-en-scène and the choreography between characters.


Cinematic Choreography

Stan: It’s very interesting in Before Sunrise how the characters start on the train just seeing each other. Then they walk on the streets of Vienna. When you’re walking in one direction, you're inevitably facing the direction of your movement. You are side-by-side. To talk, you need to turn your head, which is a very noticeable gesture. There is a lot of that negotiation where one person turns and the other turns away. Later, he puts them on a tram where they are sitting in the back, and really to talk, you need to turn. We really ran with that in ROAMance.


The "I to We" Blueprint

Stan: One thing at the basis of how we created the progression of levels was a scientific sociological study from the '90s that resurfaced during the pandemic. It was wrongly titled "36 Questions to Fall in Love." The original study was actually about creating a feeling of closeness with another person before they were confronted with interviews about biases. We tried to understand the structure of those 36 questions. It starts with questions about yourself. You answer individually. You really need to look first inside yourself. But the further you go, the more the questions address the two of you, asking how you would describe the time you just spent together. You go from "I" to "We". In the beginning of ROAMance, it’s about figuring out "How do I move?" or "What am I doing?" By the time you reach that rowing boat, it starts becoming: "What do we do? How do we get to move with this boat?" That was a little bit of a kind of scheme.

Working in an International Team


Suzie: What does your typical day look like when you are working on a project like this? Do you write code yourself? Do you work with artists? How does the testing happen?

A Basic Sense of the Tools

Stan: I’m not a developer; I cannot code. But with everything in my professional practice, I try to get a basic sense of the tools being used. Even though I cannot say that I can use Unity or Unreal, I had them both installed and tried to figure out the basic options and watch tutorials just to understand what my developers are actually dealing with. I work a lot with basic tools like Photoshop. I can sketch things that I want, creating mood boards and edits to communicate with my team. For ROAMance, I’ve been working with a team of artists.

A Global Crew

Stan: Our coder, Julia Branzo, who was in Germany, is quite an amazing character. She is a theoretical physicist with a PhD in physics who transitioned to coding, and she was the main developer on the project. We had a separate team working on avatars. A duo of artists who go under the moniker Xenoangel. It’s Sam Twidale from the UK and Marija Avramović from Serbia. They are Paris-based and are very distinguished, interesting artists with their own aesthetics. For this project, we actually tapped into a previous work of theirs where they had developed a set of characters with similar aesthetic traits, and they expanded on that set for us. We also had an amazing environment designer in the Netherlands. 

For me and my co-director, Ibrahim Qureshi, the work was basically curating that whole process, stitching it all together, scriptwriting, and piecing things together while working with an amazing team of developers. It was a very international team. On the team, we had people from Germany, the UK, Poland, Serbia, Yemen, and Kenya. It was a really diverse crew, and you can see that in ROAMance. It’s not trying to speak a certain language; it’s trying to be more for everyone.

Beyond the Empathy Machine


Suzie:  Do you find it true that VR can be an empathy machine? Have you seen a specific moment where someone's perspective was genuinely changed by one of your experiences?

The Problem with the "Empathy Machine" Label

Stan: I have a complicated relationship with this idea of empathy and VR. Not because I disagree with the notion of empathy, that's very important, but there was a period in the early days of this latest wave of VR development when a maker called Chris Milk branded it an "empathy machine." I think that led to certain misunderstandings and abuses.

Looking back, we sometimes brand that period as "empathy porn," where it was assumed that you can put a camera somewhere and then put people in a VR experience and they will have the experience of the protagonists. Many projects were done with human rights organizations where they would go to a refugee camp, place a camera, and people would walk away feeling, "Now I know how it is to be in a camp," which is obviously BS. There are limits to that.

Proximity and the Plasticity of the Brain

Stan: Working with embodiment and point of view can be a potent artistic tool, but it's no different than other media. If you want to create empathy and be respectful, it takes craft and a lot of consideration. I think there is a learning curve related to the plasticity of the brain. The first two or three times you do a VR experience, your brain responds very powerfully because of the proximity

In real life, situations where someone whispers in your ear or gets uncomfortably close to your face usually only happen with someone very close to you or someone who poses a threat. When someone is in your face, it’s either a person you are related to or someone that wants to attack you. The brain reacts very powerfully to that in VR, but it wears off once the novelty is gone. After that, it’s all about crafting those different situations.

From Fantasy to Approximation

Stan: Empathy is powerful, but we shouldn't confuse it. Empathy is still fantasy. To create empathy is to make people feel that they understand or align with the feelings of another person. There are many ethical considerations regarding how to use empathy so as not to lead to a false premise or a "feel-good" element of, "Oh, now I understand what it is"

I prefer the idea of approximation. Instead of trying to create a simulation that suggests you are in someone else's shoes, you offer a taste of what an experience could feel like. This allows the user to extend their own experience and try to meet that person halfway. VR has many tools to inspire empathy, but we should be very considerate in the way we use them in the development and design of the experiences

Presence Design in Cinema vs. VR

Suzie: So, your "red line" is droping the user at a camp and then expecting them to now "know." For you, the resulting "feel-good" aspect happens when you are not putting enough storytelling in?

Cinema vs. VR: The Need for Grounding

Stan: I would say yes. In cinema, we are so familiar with certain narrative codes that we can be thrown into a situation without any exposition. There is a degree of separation where, even in a POV film, you assume, "Okay, somebody is running," and you take your time to figure out who is running where.

If you really want me to step into the shoes of a teenage girl, an elderly person, or a person with dementia, you really need to give me a little bit of time and a reason why I’m doing this. There are a lot of design considerations for that, and some experiences in the past do it brilliantly.

Case Study: Wolves in the Wall

Stan: I always show people an older experience called Wolves in the Wall, an adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s children’s book. In that experience, you are the imaginary friend of a girl. It starts brilliantly because you can barely see anything, and then she draws eyes for you with chalk.

Very quickly and elegantly, you understand your relationship to that girl. You understand that nobody else sees you and that the only support you can give her is following her and being supportive of her storyline. You cannot really influence the story in any meaningful manner, but it is very well grounded: you know why you cannot reach out and grab objects, but you also know why she is addressing you directly.

I don’t like this "lazy approach" where it is just assumed that you will find yourself in a situation and can be left to your own devices. VR still needs some groundwork.

Stan’s Advice for Creators


Suzie: What is the most common piece of advice you find yourself giving to people or students who are new to the VR medium, or creating in a new medium?

The Golden Rule: Medium Specificity

Stan: Make sure that the idea you have cannot be done in any other medium or, at least, it cannot be done in that manner in any other medium. Don't try to make immersive media if you think that the same story is perfectly suitable for a screen. There are a lot of limitations to this technology. Headsets are clunky, and we don't have that many venues to show this type of work. You should know why you're choosing that medium. Why do you want to tap into somebody's body, for example, that choice needs to be well-connected with your core story.


Points of Origin

Stan: There are different points of origin for an experience. Sometimes you start with the story; sometimes you start with a character. Sometimes you actually start with an idea for a mechanic or a certain bodily movement you want to explore further, and then the story rolls around it. But the most important thing is: don't do it in VR if you don't want to tap into the actual affordances that this particular technology offers.

Choosing the Right Format

Stan: Immersive media is a broad field. You can do 360 video, six degrees of freedom (6DOF) non-interactive experiences, 6DOF interactive experiences, or multiplayer. You should consider your story and your goals when choosing which format to use. Don't go for something just because it seems "cool"

The Trap of Pointless Interactivity

Stan: There are a lot of experiences out there that are interactive, but that interactivity doesn't bring much except for moving the story forward. If it’s basically just about checkpoints, like "pull the lever and it’s going to bring you to another level" is there any meaning to that in that particular story?

Is there any meaning to the fact that I need to pull that lever? If there is, then go for it. If there isn’t, just simplify. Go for the simplest vehicle for your idea.

Elegance over Budget


Suzie:  So, watch the budget?

Avoiding Frustrating Friction

Stan: It’s not only about budget; it’s actually also about not creating frustrating friction in the experience if it’s not necessary. It’s about elegance as well as budget. There are some experiences where the interaction can be very minimal but also extremely powerful.

Case Study: Glimpse

Stan: There is an experience from years ago that I often quote called Glimpse. It’s about the end of a relationship, set in a world of anthropomorphized animals. You are put in the shoes of an illustrator who is a panda, and you go through different flashbacks of his storyline with his girlfriend.

At the very end of that experience, there is a scene where you sit across from her. You know the whole story now and how it unravels. You know it was a beautiful journey, but you also know that the formula has expired and there are still so many feelings invested in it.

The Power of a Single Gesture

Stan: There is just a little candle between the two of you. Once you are ready and maintaining eye contact, the experience asks you to blow the candle. Blowing the candle is the end; it’s really saying goodbye to each other.
It’s so powerful, every time I’ve done it, I almost had tears in my eyes. It is as simple as this: you do one gesture, you blow the candle, but the whole meaning is in it. For me, that’s one of the best examples of a meaningful interaction.

Meaningful vs. Pointless Interactivity

Stan: It’s not a puzzle or anything; it’s just that gesture which we eventually need to do. Contrast that with an "escape room" mechanic where you just draw something to open a door. If that doesn’t bring any meaning to the story, you just don't do it because it’s pointless

The Impact of Student Creators


Suzie:  Have you ever been surprised by a student’s work?

Curating "Beautiful Concepts"

Stan: Oh, yeah. Many, many times in the past. We actually have one student work in the selection this year as well, which is Rising River, by a young, New York-based Chinese maker. Despite certain bugs in that piece because of budget limitations and other shortages, it is still such a beautiful concept and a beautiful work. I didn't hesitate about curating it.

The Festival Circuit: From University to Venice

Stan: There is a lot of student work in the festival circuit this year. There is a program called ReAnima, the European Master for animation, which has a VR specialization. There have been two experiences from there recently: one is called Five Grams of Saffron, which is one of the winners of Venice this year. Negar, who made that experience, just graduated; she started developing the piece during her studies.
There is another piece, Sense of Nowhere, by Schwen, who is Taiwanese, which was also developed in that program. Student works are shown every single year in major VR festivals

The Collaborative Advantage

Stan: Students are ending up in major competitions because they are equipped with the skills, they work with Unity, they work with Blender. Especially when you are still at a university, you can ask your friends and colleagues for help.

In XR, the time and investment in people is usually the biggest part of your budget because you don’t usually have physical locations unless you are shooting 360-video. If you are working in gaming engines and can pull a group of people together to work collaboratively and collectively, you can do it with relatively small budgets if everyone is invested. Time is precious, and that is why I think so many student works are ending up in major competitions.

Meaningful vs. Pointless Interactivity

Stan: It’s not a puzzle or anything; it’s just that gesture which we eventually need to do. Contrast that with an "escape room" mechanic where you just draw something to open a door. If that doesn’t bring any meaning to the story, you just don't do it because it’s pointless.

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