BUDAPEST—I am standing in front of a large television
screen that shows the image of a red pickup truck.
Glare from the truck’s windshield obscures the cabin,
so I move my head and find myself peering inside; I move
my head back, and the glare returns. I remind myself
that this is, indeed, a flat display—not a diorama.
It is, rather, three-dimensional imagery in the
full sense of the word, on parade in the offices of
Holografika, a small Hungarian company named after the
laser-mediated technique that earned Hungary’s Dennis
Kapor the 1971 Nobel Prize in physics.
“Yes, the history in Hungary, it played a role” in
getting government support for research on this 3-D
gadget, says Tibor Balogh, chief executive of
Holografika. “Mainly, though, it is because of a lucky
idea.” Rather than try and fool my brain into the
illusion of depth with stereoscopic views, or show me
a series of frames that varies as I move my head, Balogh
creates a virtual image just the way a CT scanner
does, when it takes myriads of X-rays coming from
different angles and deduces the shape of the object.
He hits a button and on comes a movie of three
interlocking gears, rotating along orthogonal
axes—upward, sideways, and inward. Move aside, and now
you are seeing it from a
different angle. Part of a drive shaft
has come into view.
Parallax, Pixel, and
Pinholes
The Holografika system can be considered,
metaphorically, as a source light, a back screen
with pinholes, and a front screen, also with pinholes.
Each ray of light entering your eye has been sent
there through two pinholes, as it were, via a
filtering method in which all the rays trace back not
merely to the actual light source, but even farther,
to a virtual object—an image being modeled in three
dimensions. Move your head, and a different set of
pinholes conveys rays that appear to come from the same
image but along a different angle.
Each eye gets a slightly different image, and
therefore your brain constructs an image with depth,
just as it would for stereoscopic pictures, like those
seen through a slide viewer. However, the brain also
gets a second sense of depth, from parallax—the
changes in aspect that correlate with movements of the
head. That is why prolonged exposure to stereoscopy
without parallax can confuse the brain, and even turn
the stomach.
“The old stereoscopic movies were for the most
part disorienting,” Balogh says. “You will never watch a
television that makes you sick.”
In the early 1950s, there was a brief fad for
stereoscopic movies, created by projecting two images
through different color filters. To see one image with
the left eye and the other with the right, viewers had
to wear glasses with different colored lenses. To
minimize the nausea, a clever director would use
stereoscopy sparingly, as Alfred Hitchcock did in
Dial M for
Murder (1954). Hitchcock really ladled the
3-D magic on in the climactic scene, in which Grace
Kelly, strangled by an assailant, thrusts her hand out
into the viewer’s face, clutches at scissors, and uses
them to stab her assailant in the back.
“Those old movies were for the most part
disorienting,” Balogh says. “You will never watch a
television that makes you sick.”
Surgeon’s Friend,
Gamer’s Passion
He hits another button, and I see the delicately
branching tree of blood vessels in someone’s brain
with an outpouching clearly visible. I look at it
from one side, then from the other—yep, it’s an
aneurism, all right. A neurosurgeon, looking at the
same image, might project onto it the surrounding
skull to get an idea of just how to get to the defect
while causing the least damage to the brain.
An even more exciting possibility occurs to me,
poor lowbrow that I am: this could be the world’s best
gaming interface! Balogh seems slightly disappointed
in me. Yes, he says, with a sigh, we have considered
that market as well.
He takes me into another room where three engineers
are fooling with the innards of the company’s
invention, available so far only in test versions. Two
are assembling light-emitting diodes (LEDs), the sources
at the back of the display. The third one runs a
program that brings to life a hulking figure that
swings a club, while taking a step in my direction, a
maneuver the figure repeats again and again. It’s not
much of a movie, I complain. Yes, says Balogh, but
this is no prerecorded movie—it’s an on-the-fly
animation, calculated from the sort of raw data a
program would get from a move I might have made in an
interactive game.
“First, we have the bones,” he says, and I see a
hulking skeleton swinging a stick. “Then we have the
skinning,” he continues, as the program figures out
the stretching effect on upper layers—first, the
figure’s skin, then its clothing. The beauty of it, he
says, is that game companies can make the transition
to his 3-D method rather easily, using much of the
data that they generate for their 2-D displays but “do
not now fully exploit,” as he puts it.
Use the 3-D Data You
Already Have
Right now, such a game player would set me back
some € 30 000 (about US $ 39 000), so I guess this
scientific advance will be limited to the neurosurgeons
for the time being. Several hospitals have indeed been
looking at the prototype machine, which Holografika
brought out in 2005. It is accepting small orders even now.
Doctors, too, will find it easy to snap the
Holografika display onto existing diagnostic scanners,
based on magnetic resonance, positron-emission, or
plain, old X-ray tomography. The data from those
machines reflects three dimensions anyway, so it is
just a question of rendering it properly. That way, a
surgeon could superimpose such a diagram on a person’s
body to plan how best to reach the target organ.
The same goes for engineers trying to visualize the
wiring in a new jetliner. Here, too, the existing
CAD/CAM systems already compute in three dimensions,
so their data need only be poured in to display a fully
rounded device—those interlocking gears, for instance.
It could also help broadcasters in televising
sporting events. “Even five cameras, pointed at a
football field, can be used to generate 3-D, by using
computers to interpolate the data,” Balogh says. “It
would then be as if we had used 100 cameras. We could
reconstruct a [soccer] game from the point of view of
any player—say, the goalkeeper—even if we had no
camera there! Now it might take a supercomputer, but soon….”
Holografika recently brought out a bigger, sharper,
longer-lived model using LEDs rather than arc lamps.
They have the advantage of being smaller, cooler, and
longer lasting. The new display also expands the viewing
angle by one-sixth, to a total of 70 degrees.
Today, Balogh says, his company could not even
handle an order of 100 000 units. Yet he looks forward
to the day when rising demand for 3-D and falling unit
prices make such volume possible. To meet the challenge,
Holografika will need to forge alliances with major
manufacturers. Meanwhile, Balogh says, it is planning
a second round of financing, sometime in the second half
of 2007.