IMPULSE #5: Stop Treating Modes as Features

I recently revisited a piece on multimodal UX that describes how everyday experiences are drifting from “screen + tap” toward rich blends of voice, touch, vision, and motion—think smart homes, in‑car systems, and AR environments. The article defines multimodal UX not just as “more ways to interact,” but as designing a single, cohesive experience that feels intuitive no matter which mode the user leans on in that moment.

What struck me is how often we still design modes like separate features: “We added voice,” “we added gesture,” “we added chat.” The article’s examples—smart home voice + wall panels, automotive dashboards mixing touch and voice—show that users don’t think that way. They just reach for whatever feels fastest, safest, or most natural. If the system treats each mode as a silo, the user ends up doing the coordination work: remembering which mode does what, where, and when.

For UX, the real design problem isn’t “how do we support more input types?” It’s “how do we choreograph them so users don’t have to think about the choreography at all?” That maps directly onto my thesis questions about conversational design tools. When a designer switches from typing “make this bigger” to dragging a handle, that’s also multimodal UX—just in a professional tool context. The challenge is to make that transition feel like one continuous action, not a context switch that breaks flow.

If multimodal UX in consumer products is about blending voice, touch, and vision into one mental model, then multimodal UX in design tools should be about blending conversation and direct manipulation into one sense of control.

Relevant link: https://www.ux-bulletin.com/multimodal-ux-design/

IMPULSE №8

This is my last blog post of the semester, and it feels like a good moment to pause, look back, and then look ahead. In my previous posts, I mostly focused on the challenges of shaping a full concept and understanding where my project could go. Now, instead of diving deeper into problems, I want to write about my next steps and how my thinking has started to shift.

In blog post number six, I wrote about the technical challenges I faced, especially around building and connecting digital and physical elements. During my final critique, Mr. Martin Kaltenbrunner gave me a piece of advice that really stayed with me. He encouraged me to step back and look at my project from above, instead of zooming in too early on one solution. He suggested focusing more on challenges in the physical world and thinking about how making them playful or digital could improve user engagement and traction. That comment helped me realize that I was sometimes too focused on making my concept work, instead of asking why people would enjoy using it in the first place.

Interestingly, around the same time, social media algorithms started doing their thing. I kept getting videos related to my topic, and instead of ignoring them, I leaned into it. I discovered beautiful examples of 3D-printed jewelry, and then I found a YouTube video showing a 3D ring with a small RFID chip embedded inside. After that, I came across several experiments and even failures involving NFC inside jewelry. Seeing both successful and unsuccessful attempts was incredibly valuable, because it made the process feel more realistic and approachable.

One example that really stuck with me was a blogger who turned her bus pass into a ring. It was such a simple idea, yet it perfectly showed how a boring everyday physical experience could be transformed into something playful and personal. That example made everything click. It was not just about technology, but about how design can shift the emotional experience of an action we do every day without thinking.

This also made me reflect on how digital solutions already help us transmit emotions across distance. Small things like animated text messages on Instagram or automatically generated video memories in the iOS gallery may seem simple, but they add emotional value. They make digital interactions feel warmer and more human. Seeing these examples helped me think beyond my original concept and reminded me that emotional design often lives in details.

Another important influence was a talk by Jared Friedman called How to Get and Evaluate Startup Ideas. Watching it helped me widen my perspective even more. It made me realize some mistakes I was close to making, especially trying to solve too many things at once or falling in love with a solution too early. The talk reminded me that strong ideas usually start with clear problems and grow through testing, feedback, and iteration.

Looking forward, my next steps are about exploration rather than final answers. I want to experiment more with physical objects, playful interactions, and emotional triggers. I want to test ideas quickly, observe how people react, and stay open to changing direction. This semester taught me that uncertainty is not a weakness in the process, but a necessary part of it.

I used ChatGPT to check the spelling and grammar of this text

Impulse #8 – form follows fun(ction)?

I found a TED talk by Don Norman titled “The three ways that good design makes you happy“ which sparked my curiosity. Norman is famous for his work on emotional design and everyday things. This talk focuses on the importance of fun, beauty, and emotion in how we interact with technology. An interesting connection to some of the things I looked at through my previous blog posts
Norman explains that “pleasant things work better.” He argues that when we are happy or amused, our brains become more creative and better at solving problems. This idea is a perfect fit for my research into “Whimsical UX.” Usually, designers think of “fun” as a decoration or „add-on“ that we add at the end of a project. However, according to Norman, the emotional side of a product and/or interface is just as functional as the technical side. If an “unserious” interface makes a user smile or pause, it actually makes them more relaxed and capable of handling the interaction, even if it is not perfectly efficient.
This connects directly to the post-digital ideas I have been exploring through Florian Cramer’s work. A perfectly clean and “sterile” digital screen often feels cold and boring, which is a major cause of the digital fatigue I want to address. By adding personality or “whimsical” elements, we are not just making a toy, we are making a more human tool. It moves the focus away from the technology itself and puts it back on the quality of the human experience. As Andersen and Pold suggest in their work on interface criticism, we need to move away from interfaces that try to be “invisible” or “seamless.” A design that makes you laugh or look at a quirky detail is an interface that is “visible” and engaging. It forces you to be present in the moment.
Watching this talk helped me see that “whimsy or joy” and “intentional friction” are actually pretty closely related. Both are tools to break the habit of mindless swiping. Whether it is a physical knob that feels satisfying to turn or a digital menu that uses playful language, these elements create a moment of intention and connection. They turn a boring transaction into a meaningful interaction.

I think it could be fun to use Norman’s perspective to prove that “fun” is not a distraction from good design. In a world where everything is being forced into a screen for the sake of efficiency, and economical benefits, reintroducing joy is a radical and necessary act. My approach is to find a way to combine these themes: post-digital skepticism, the need for reflective friction, and the power of joy into a framework for a „post-screen” or „post-digital“ or „post-efficiency“ world. The idea is to design interfaces that do not just treat users like efficient machines, but like humans who value personality and play and experience.

Impulse #7 – a paper!

Following up on my talk with Martin Kaltenbrunner, I have looked into the term “post-digital.” I wanted to understand what this means for my research on interfaces found a paper by Florian Cramer [1] which I feel is very helpful here. He describes that post-digital does not mean a time after computers. Instead, it means that in our current world digital and physical things are completely mixed together.
Many people are starting to feel tired of “perfect” digital systems. Cramer calls this a period of disenchantment. Today, digital technology is often seen as something sterile and clean. Because of this, some people choose older, „nostalgic“ tools like typewriters or vinyl records. They are not just being nostalgic, they are making a deliberate choice to reject certain aspects of electronic technology. They are questioning the idea that a screen is always an “upgrade” or “progress”. This fits with my observation that making everything a flat screen blindly and/by default can actually make the experience worse.
 A key idea in post-digital theory (according to Cramer) is that we should stop being fascinated by technology just because it is “new”. Since digital tools are everywhere now, they are no longer disruptive. This means we can look at them more critically. This connects to the “whimsical UX” angle I discussed I another post. If we stop trying to make everything super-efficient and high-tech, we can focus on other qualities of the interaction. We can start using digital and physical materials in more playful or unconventional ways.
In my research, I think it could be interesting to use this post-digital framework to move beyond just choosing between a screen or a physical button. The goal is a post-digital decision-making: using the technology most suitable to the job, rather than automatically “defaulting” to the latest innovative medium. This might mean using “intentional friction” to slow a user down and make them think, rather than making everything as fast as possible. This perspective aligns with Post-Digital Interface Criticism [2], which suggests that interfaces should be visible and reflective rather than “seamless” and invisible.
The next step is to find where exactly to start designing and changing. Maybe finding out if the feeling from physical installations can work in the digital world too. By using “unserious” frameworks, playful/emotional design I might find better ways to design everyday interfaces that feel more human and less sterile. Cramer’s idea of a “hacker attitude“ (taking systems apart and using them in ways that subvert their original intention) could also be a great starting point for this.

[1] https://lab404.com/142/cramer.pdf
[2] https://mediacommons.org/tne/pieces/manifesto-post-digital-interface-criticism

Impulse #6 – a talk!

Following my recent discussions about the “screen-as-default” problem, I have also started exploring a different angle. While my previous focus was primarily on the physical tangibility of interfaces, a recent coaching session with Birgit Bachler led me to a new impulse centered on “whimsical UX.” Most modern design focuses on “frictionless” interaction, where every update to an app or system is intended to make things faster and more invisible. This focus on peak efficiency often leads to a loss of joy in digital tools. I am now looking into the concept of whimsical and “unserious” UX to challenge the idea that a UI should only be a tool for a specific task. Instead of only optimizing for speed, this approach considers how an interface can be designed for delight.

I am thinking about how interaction can be intentionally unconventional and how community-driven tools develop a specific “vibe” that standard tools do not center or even consider. Instead of focusing only on the comparison between pre-digital and digital states, I am considering a framework for a different design approach for example “intentional friction” that forces the user to slow down and engage with the process rather than clicking through it mindlessly.

A big part of this research topic is finding out when an approach like this is appropriate. Not every interface should be a playground and we have to keep in mind that efficiency remains necessary in many contexts. However, in some tools or products that contribute to digital fatigue, there is an opportunity to reintroduce personality. Many current design trends prioritize speed above all else, I want to explore alternative directions that prioritize the quality of the experience.
This shift expands my original problem statement. By looking at whimsy and joy, I am still addressing the issues of mindless interaction and digital fatigue, but I am moving beyond just hardware solutions. Whether the interface is a physical object or a screen, the objective in this angle of approach would be to move away from digitizing everything for purely economic reasons and sleek efficiency. I want to find ways to possibly make interaction feel more human/emotional/joyful. The steps to get there involve analyzing some frameworks and ideas that exist on this to see how they can offer better options for everyday interface design. And intersting first approach I found upon doing a quick research was a piece of work called „Interface Criticism: Aesthetics Beyond the Buttons“ by Christian Ulrik Andersen and Søren Bro Pold, where they discuss topics such as moving beyond usability and argue against treating interfaces as tools for efficiency, instead seeing them as complex, artistic, and cultural things.

https://www.academia.edu/78755388/Interface_Criticism_Aesthetics_Beyond_Buttons

Impulse #5 – Final Crit

For my fifth impulse, I have chosen the feedback from my final Crit talk with Martin Kaltenbrunner, who had some interesting insights on the topics I am interested in. My starting point for the thesis is currently a growing frustration with the “screen-as-default” trend. We’ve reached a point where efficiency and friction-less design are the ultimate goals, often leading to mindless interaction and digital fatigue.
In our meeting, we discussed the “blind urge” to digitalize everything, often driven mainly by economic reasons rather than a fulfilling, well-suited user experience. Mr. Kaltenbrunner suggested a specific research process to help me narrow down my scope. Instead of just looking at the “now,” I could compare three states:

Pre-Digital: How did we solve this task physically? What did interfaces used to look like?

Absolute Digitalization: The current state (mostly touchscreens)

Post-Digital / Hybrid: A new solution that doesn’t just “go back” to the old ways but uses the best of both worlds and considers the use case and its requirements. (Not the screen as one-for-all solution)

The goal isn’t nostalgia, but rather finding a “Post-Digital” development that acknowledges the digital but brings back the haptic, tangible quality of the physical.
The main takeaway and my current challenge is that I really need to pin down a specific use case. While my interest in tangible interfaces is broad, we did come to the conclusion to avoid overdone examples like car interfaces and instead find a niche where the shift to screens has genuinely made the experience worse (maybe going back to educational topics and school environments). I’m looking for a situation where losing friction and diversity has led to a loss of focus, and where a hybrid, tangible solution would actually provide more value than just a clean digital one.
I’m now searching for a topic: something specific enough to test but broad enough to help me find more general design principles. The advice from my talk is to go out and explore. This has shifted my focus away from theory and back to the real world. My next step could be to pick a few potential use cases and compare them to how they worked before, how they are digitalized now, and what a post-digital version could look like to see which one has the most potential. Another thing I will of course look into is some literature research about post-digitalization itself. I think it will be really valuable to familiarize myself with theories and terminology like this and find out what the state of research is. I have done a quick research out of curiosity and found a few papers and researchers that sound interesting, such as Florian Cramer who writes about the „Post-digital“ and Löwgren & Stolterman’s Material theory.

IMPULSE #8: World Usability Congress | Graz 24 & 25

Attending the World Usability Congress two times was one of those experiences that leaves your brain pleasantly stimulated. It was a gathering of people who genuinely care about how technology fits into real human lives.

What intrigued me first was the strong emphasis on context. Again and again, speakers reminded us that usability doesn’t live in wireframes or prototypes—it lives in messy, unpredictable, real-world situations. Whether it was designing for high-stress environments like healthcare or for everyday tools we barely notice, the message was clear: if you don’t understand the user’s context, you don’t understand the problem. I also gained a deeper appreciation for the maturity of the UX field. There was a noticeable shift away from “best practices” as rigid rules and toward informed decision-making.

Design systems are like LEGO kits; they contain reusable components and instructions, they can be assembled in a variety of ways, and instructions are for both creation and use.

Accessibility was another major takeaway. Not as a checkbox, but as a mindset. Several sessions showed how inclusive design leads to better products for everyone, not just users with specific needs.

I was also reminded that usability is as much about ethics as it is about efficiency. Talks about dark patterns, persuasive design, and user trust highlighted the responsibility we have as practitioners. Just because something can be optimized doesn’t mean it should be. Designing with empathy and integrity is becoming just as important as designing for speed or conversion.

One of my favorite insights was about innovation built by great teams. Great usability doesn’t happen in isolation. Researchers, designers, developers, product managers, and stakeholders all shape the outcome, whether intentionally or not.

Reflections

I left the World Usability Congress 2024 and 2025 genuinely inspired. It reinforced why I care about usability in the first place and why I chose my thesis to be rooted in product UI UX design, because good design respects people’s time, attention, and limitations. And that’s a standard worth continually striving for.

Disclaimer: AI was used to fix any grammatical mistakes and for better phrasing.

3.8 IMPULSE #8

So, this is the last blog post I’m writing for this semester and, essentially, for my studies here at FH. In this post, I want to reflect on the pre-research phase I’ve been working through over the past three months: what I kept, what I changed, what new directions emerged, and what I will do next.

Throughout these posts, you might notice some gaps in how I describe my progress and decisions. I treated this series more like a space to think out loud than a clean research documentation. Still, it shows my process in a raw and honest way.

My writing has been heavily focused on Play. Before even naming social anxiety as a core research pillar, I already knew I wanted to explore play and closely related topics like gamification, board games, and video games. In the end, I did not directly include those formats in my topic. However, play remained central. I now treat it as a design perspective rather than as something tied to traditional definitions of play. I am especially interested in social play, since social anxiety is deeply connected to relationships between people and to how we experience ourselves in social spaces.

Social Anxiety, which I dedicated post #2 to, is what has shaped my theoretical frame so far. I am no longer trying to “represent” social anxiety as a state or a label. Instead, I am moving toward designing for social comfort and emotional safety through interaction. To do this responsibly, I still need to research its characteristics and emotional qualities more deeply through literature, as well as through interviews with therapists or practitioners. This will allow me to ground my design decisions in real experiences rather than assumptions.

From the beginning, I imagined Tangibility, or Tangible Interaction, as the main way people would engage with my artefact. Lately, I’ve realised that tangibility alone may not automatically serve what I want to achieve. What has started to matter more to me now is not just what people touch, but how their body is involved in the interaction. This is where Embodied Interaction comes in for me.

Instead of thinking only about screens, objects, or interfaces, Embodied Interaction looks at how meaning is shaped through the body. Through posture, movement, distance to others, breathing, and the way we physically respond to situations. That feels very close to social anxiety, because anxiety is not only something you “think.” It shows up in the body: in tightness, in hesitation, in avoiding eye contact, in staying still when you want to move, or moving when you want to disappear.

Working with the body allows me to explore these qualities in a more direct and experiential way, instead of only talking about them.

This is also where Soma Design fits into my thinking. It builds on Embodied Interaction but focuses even more on awareness, sensation, and subtle bodily shifts. It helps me pay attention to what is felt, not just what is seen or understood. RtD gives me a structure to think through making, Soma Design gives me a sensitivity to lived experience, and prototyping becomes the way I actually think, not just the way I produce outcomes.

I am also beginning to explore empathy not just as understanding, but as something that can be felt through the body. My goal is not to explain social anxiety, but to create conditions where people can sense what it is like to navigate difficult emotions in social situations. Playful, gentle, and subtle interactions can act as entry points into these experiences without forcing people into exposure.

Wearables are a possible direction here, not as gadgets, but as tools for private, intimate interaction that combine the analog and digital by directly involving the body. They can support embodied, somatic experiences that remain personal rather than performative.

How my way of thinking has changed:
At the beginning, I focused mostly on the outcome: what technology to use, how things might look, what form the artefact could take. Now I understand that this comes after the conceptual work, which is shaped by the theoretical framework and the methods. I am learning to let meaning lead form, not the other way around.

So far, this is the theoretical base I’ve ended up with:

  • Social Anxiety: characteristics & emotional qualities
  • Embodied Interaction
  • (Social) Play
  • Soma Design – Kristina Höök
  • Research through Design (RtD)
  • Prototyping
  • Analog-Digital
  • (Empathy)
  • (Wearables)

Over the next few months of developing the thesis, I want to continue working in this way, moving from reading and reflecting into small material experiments.

AI was used for corrections, better wording, and enhancements.

IMPULSE #8 – A Meeting & Websites

This impulse began with a meeting with my thesis supervisor, Mr. Baumann, where we discussed my topic in a more focused and structured way. Beyond talking about the concept itself, we spoke about how to approach the research phase and how to translate inspiration into something usable for a master’s thesis. One key takeaway from this meeting was his suggestion to start systematically collecting websites that function as strong examples of web storytelling. The focus was not only on visual quality, but on how these websites guide users through information, create meaning through interaction, and build narratives across structure, content, and interface.

I realized that I had already been doing this informally for a while. Whenever I came across a website that made me think “this is good web storytelling”, I saved it to my notes. After this conversation, however, I turned that habit into a more structured process by creating a spreadsheet where I collect examples, categorize them, and add notes about their narrative strategies, interaction patterns, and thematic focus. This spreadsheet will definitely continue to expand over the next weeks as my thesis research progresses. Below, I present a small selection of websites that tell stories in different ways.

AI Takes Over

This website uses humor and interaction to make a complex and often intimidating topic feel approachable. The opening line “AI Takes Over” followed by “Okay, just kidding :)”, immediately sets a playful tone and signals that the site aims to guide rather than overwhelm the user. The visual design supports this narrative approach through a futuristic color palette that gradually shifts from red to purple as the user scrolls. The story moves from past to present to future, combining short explanations, statistics, and myth-busting sections. This creates a clear narrative arc that educates while keeping the experience light. Overall, the website frames AI as a tool rather than a threat, showing how storytelling and interface design can influence perception and understanding.

The Silly Bunny

The Silly Bunny website is a strong example of how immersive technology can be used as a storytelling tool rather than a visual gimmick. Through motion, 2D and 3D illustrations, and interactive elements, the site transforms navigation into exploration. Instead of simply consuming information, users actively move through the brand’s story, discovering elements as they interact with the interface. This playful and experimental approach creates a sense of curiosity and engagement, while reinforcing the brand’s creative identity. The storytelling here happens through interaction itself, making the experience memorable and distinct.

The Message to Ukraine

This is a powerful example of emotional and cultural storytelling on the web. The website unfolds as one continuous narrative, combining poetry, animation, typography, and interaction to celebrate Ukrainian identity and history. Gestalt principles play an important role throughout the experience: images break down into dots and lines and reassemble into recognizable forms as the user scrolls. Content layers overlap like pages in a book, supported by a custom typeface and carefully crafted animations. The result is an experience that feels deeply human and intentional, using interaction and visual language to turn national memory and emotion into a digital story.

Unifiers of Japan

The Unifiers of Japan website presents historical storytelling in a playful and accessible way. Inspired by samurai history and Ukiyo-e art, it reimagines 1600s Japan through modern illustration and interaction. Each historical figure is introduced through interactive cards that highlight key moments and strategies, allowing users to explore the story at their own pace. Rather than overwhelming the user with historical facts, the site focuses on character, contrast, and curiosity. This approach shows how storytelling on the web can simplify complex topics while still encouraging deeper engagement.

And of course, THE Lando Norris Website

This website is a strong example of brand storytelling driven by motion and performance. Speed-inspired animations, sharp transitions, and cinematic scrolling mirror the intensity of Formula 1, making the interface itself part of the narrative. The design balances McLaren’s racing heritage with Lando Norris’s personal identity, using bold typography, color, and interaction to communicate who he is beyond the track. Storytelling here is not delivered primarily through text, but through rhythm, responsiveness, and flow. The result is a digital experience that feels energetic, personal, and closely tied to its subject.

This growing collection of websites already plays an important role in shaping how I understand narrative UX and interactive storytelling. By analyzing different approaches, from educational and cultural narratives to brand-driven and immersive experiences, I am building a foundation that will inform both the research and design phases of my master’s thesis.

Disclaimer: This blog post was written with the help of AI for better grammar and correct spelling.

Impulse #7: Contemporary Art and Religious Experience

I visited the exhibition “DU SOLLST DIR EIN BILD MACHEN – Contemporary Art and the Religious Experience” at the Künstlerhaus in Vienna with a certain expectation: to encounter contemporary artistic positions that critically engage with religion without falling into pure provocation. What I found was a carefully curated exhibition that neither defends nor attacks religion outright, but instead opens up a complex space for reflection, ambiguity, humor, and critique.

The exhibition brings together works by 42 contemporary artists who approach Christian iconography from different perspectives—critical, loving, feminist, ironic, and deeply personal. Rather than aiming for scandal or shock, the exhibition focuses on dialogue: between past and present, faith and doubt, institution and individual experience. This approach resonated strongly with my own research interests, which revolve around distance, reflection, and the role of mediation in religious experience.

The exhibition is structured into seven thematic chapters—Icon, (False) Holiness, Cross, Resurrection, Divinity, Madonna, and The Last Supper—each framing how traditional religious motifs are reinterpreted today. What becomes immediately clear is that religious imagery still holds immense imaginative power, even in a largely secularized context. Art, much like religion, deals with fundamental questions of existence, meaning, and uncertainty. While religion often seeks to make the unfamiliar familiar, contemporary art does the opposite: it destabilizes what we think we know.

I was actually visited it on the recommendation of Martin Kaltenbrunner with whom I talked about my Master Thesis. One work I was particularly interested in seeing was Deus in Machina (2024/2025) by Philipp Haslbauer, Marco Schmid, and Aljosa Smolic—an AI-based installation that invites visitors to engage in a dialogue with a digital Jesus. Unfortunately, the installation was out of order during my visit. Still, its conceptual framing alone is highly relevant to my research. The work raises the question of whether artificial intelligence can become a spiritual interlocutor—not as a gimmick, but as a serious conversational partner. This idea sits uncomfortably between curiosity and unease, echoing many of my concerns about digital mediation of spirituality: Where does support end and simulation begin?

Seeing Himmelsleiter again—originally created for St. Stephen’s Cathedral—reinforced my sense of how strongly site, context, and memory shape religious experience. Removed from its original location, the work still carried symbolic weight, but its meaning shifted. This highlighted how religious and spiritual experiences are not fixed, but deeply relational and contextual.

Perhaps the most striking moment of the exhibition was encountering Martin Kippenberger’s Fred the Frog Rings the Bell (1990), the infamous crucified frog. Knowing its history—the public outrage, accusations of blasphemy, political pressure, and even papal commentary—added another layer to the experience. What fascinated me was not the provocation itself, but the failure of mediation. The scandal revealed less about the artwork and more about the inability of institutions to foster dialogue. Instead of enabling theological or cultural discussion, the work was hidden, relocated, and silenced. This reaction mirrors many of the mechanisms that contribute to people distancing themselves from the Church: defensiveness, lack of dialogue, and fear of ambiguity.

Other works, such as Deborah Sengl’s Of Sheep and Wolves, critically examine hierarchy, power, and institutional structures within the Church. These pieces do not reject faith outright but question authority and obedience—issues that are central to contemporary critiques of organized religion.

Markus Wilfling’s minimalist sculpture O.T. (God Does Not Play Dice) offered a quieter, more contemplative counterpoint. Referencing Albert Einstein, the work balances order and randomness, belief and doubt. The dice-cross simultaneously suggests structure and mystery, reminding viewers that faith is not about certainty, but about navigating the unknown.

This exhibition was a powerful impulse for my master’s research. It demonstrated how religious themes can be addressed critically without cynicism, and how distance itself can become a productive space for reflection. Most importantly, it showed that engagement with religion does not require affirmation or rejection—it can exist in between. As an interaction designer, this reinforces my interest in creating spaces that allow for ambiguity, critique, and personal interpretation, rather than clear answers or prescribed meanings.


Links:
https://www.nitsch-foundation.com/exhibition/du-sollst-dir-ein-bild-machen
https://religion.orf.at/stories/3232748

Dissclaimer: AI was used here for a better wording and structuring