A spaceship commander asks IEEE
for a status update from his pilot as they gaze at a transparent,
dome-shaped navigational display. In it they see a three-dimensional
model of the ship and its orientation in space as it speeds toward the
mysterious planet Altair IV and a fateful rendezvous with the demented
Dr. Morbius.
This scene, from the 1956 film Forbidden Planet, features a primitive
wood, metal, and plastic incarnation of what has become a cinematic sci-fi
archetype—3-D displays that let you see things much as you do in the real
world, only in miniature, typically. The hyperrealistic 3-D display,
whether it appears as the holodeck recreational environment in "Star Trek"
or as the flickering holographic SOS sent by Princess Leia via R2D2 in
Star Wars, underscores not only some sort of fundamental human longing but
also a common assumption about high-end 3-D displays: they're way out in
the future.
They're not. For decades we've had less-than-scintillating experiences
watching monster movies through flimsy red-and-blue glasses and playing
video games in wraparound headache-inducing goggles. Now, volumetric
displays are finally here—displays that render images in a 3-D space
rather than on a flat screen. But unless you're in the military, wrestle
with high-end 3-D scientific visualizations, or are given to spending US
$40 000 on impressive high-tech gadgets, you've probably never seen one.
A few small companies are just now emerging to try to carve out a piece of
a market for volumetric displays that could be worth $1 billion by 2006,
according to a study commissioned by my company, LightSpace Technologies
Inc., Norwalk, Conn. These companies are pursuing two main technological
approaches to displaying solid images electronically.
One is known as swept volume; it uses a high-definition projector or an
array of lasers to bounce images off a screen that rotates so fast that
the human eye perceives only a 3-D image floating in space. Among those
pursuing the swept-volume approach are Felix 3D-Display, in Stade,
Germany; Genex Technologies Inc., in Kensington, Md.; and Actuality
Systems, in Burlington, Mass. (whose hemispherical displays bear an
uncanny similarity to Forbidden Planet's navigation dome). The other
approach, taken by LightSpace, is an all solid-state design that uses a
projector behind a stack of 20 liquid-crystal screens to create one solid
image from a rapidly projected series of images.
All of these systems create 3-D images that require no special eyewear,
produce no eye fatigue or headaches, and are visible over a wide field of
view from several meters away by many people. The first buyers are
expected to put them to use in scientific, engineering, medical, and
security chores, but eventually they are likely to wind up in classrooms
and living rooms (adding a whole new dimension, literally, to electronic
games). But for now, manufacturers are focusing on technical applications
that can justify the machines' initially high prices. That means
volumetric displays will first be used to help people engaged in
high-stakes endeavors—a doctor guiding a catheter inside a beating heart,
a geologist developing plans to extract oil from deep underground
reservoirs, or a baggage screener looking for knives and bombs in carry-on
luggage.
If all goes well, economies of scale could bring prices down to a point
where all sorts of intriguing applications become possible. Real estate
agents could give people realistic walk-throughs of properties anywhere on
the planet. Fashion designers tweaking the lines of new evening gowns
could see how variations hang on virtual models. Serious gamers armed with
souped-up 3-D graphics cards could boost cars and splatter zombies in
addictively absorbing environments that would make 3-D games played on 2-D
monitors seem like creaky old cartoons.