Some of my family members are working at St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna, and recently I had a conversation with my father about my thesis idea. We started imagining what could be possible if one were to use projection mapping inside such a monumental building. Almost immediately, he pointed out the practical challenges: projecting onto the walls would be extremely difficult because they are uneven, full of textures, and far from flat. The ceilings, on the other hand, are breathtakingly high — which makes them impressive but almost impossible to reach with simple projection tools. Even though I found the idea of using the walls fascinating, I had to admit that he was right.
That realization pushed me toward a different approach. I remembered projects by MOYA (Museum of Young Art), where very simple objects were transformed through projection. Inspired by this, I decided to scale things down drastically and experiment with something that was not monumental at all, but rather small and manageable: a cardboard cube. I built one myself, placed it on my desk, and tried projecting a cross onto it.
The first test with a candle surprised me. The edges of the projection were soft, and because of the natural flickering of the flame, the cross gained a kind of living quality. It felt fragile yet atmospheric, as if the symbol was breathing. When I tried the same experiment with a flashlight, the result was quite different. The contours were sharp, the cross was perfectly visible, and I could even project across multiple surfaces of the cube without losing clarity. By moving both the light and the stencil, I was able to create more dynamics and test how the projection shifted across the cube’s surfaces. This gave me a better sense of how light interacts with 3D forms, and how movement can add emotional depth to even the simplest projection. Both versions had their own charm, and I found it interesting how much the choice of light source influences the meaning and mood.
Feeling encouraged, I got a little overconfident. I thought: if it works this well, why not take it a step further and project a video with colors and movement onto the cube? So I tried it with my phone. What can I say… it was late in the evening, and I hadn’t really thought it through. Of course, the phone does not project in a focused, directional way but emits light in all directions. The result was disappointing: in the video you can vaguely see the cross, but only if you already know what to look for.
Still, even this “failed” attempt was an important step. It showed me that not every tool is suitable for creating clear and meaningful projections, and that precision matters a lot when working with light. The candle experiment reminded me of atmosphere and symbolism, while the flashlight proved how technical clarity can support the message. The phone experiment, on the other hand, reminded me that enthusiasm sometimes needs to be balanced with patience and planning.
For my next step, I need to think about what kind of projector or light source could give me more control, and how I can combine simplicity with clarity. Even though I started small, these first tests gave me valuable insights into the relationship between light, object, and symbol — the core elements of projection mapping.
