The knowledge is already in the room. We build the rooms that let it move — a phone in a pocket, a wall in a youth center, a dome ceiling, a headset, a market street in Puebla. Then we hand over the tools so the next room doesn’t need us.
We make immersive pieces with our own communities and put them on whichever surface is open — a phone in your pocket, a classroom screen, a community-center wall, a planetarium ceiling, an immersive museum room, a wall-side projection on a Tuesday night. The surface is whatever's already there. The story is what we bring. Then we open the toolkit so others can do the same.
Voice testimony. Lived-experience documentary. Neighborhood capture. Held inside a 360° space anyone can step into. Free voices from a Berlin table in 2006. A juke joint in Clarksdale. A mercado in Puebla. A youth center in Orlando. Held with consent and citation, not extracted.
The same piece plays in a student’s browser, on the wall of a community center, inside a pop-up dome a teacher unfurls in a gym, in an immersive museum room, on a planetarium ceiling. Phone is one surface among many. We design for whichever room a person actually has.
The Community 360° Builder lets anyone make a world from a phone — no code, start from one of ours. Squinch shows finished work on any surface before you rent the room. The Invisible Choir turns a street into a sound walk. Every one of them is running right now, free for community use. See the toolkit →
Five mediums. One practice. The doors below are how you find your way into the work — education and civic, immersive culture and music, the open tools we built so anyone can do it themselves.
From Puebla · community workshop
In the room · voices in motion
Open toolkit · built and shared
Community-authored 360° pieces, each one live at its own address. Hover to hear the room — the place, the people, the sound of it. Click to walk in. Consent on file, citations in, free for educators and community use.
Not a roadmap. Not renders. Twelve pieces are live on the open web this minute. Start with these three — the rest is one tap away.
Twelve live, two still in the studio.
Start with the rooms →Every piece was made with the people in it, kept with their consent, and cited back to them. If it doesn’t say free, ask — it probably still is for community and classroom use.
In 2006, 112 thinkers from 48 countries gathered at one table in Berlin — the Table of Free Voices — to answer humanity’s most pressing questions, on democracy, art, faith, conflict, and the future. Here’s one. The answers have been holding their breath for twenty years. Press to unveil.
A fuse is the bridge between the spark and the work. We’re the bridge.
Knowledge from our communities has been undervalued by default — by museums, by curricula, by the rooms where culture is decided. Whose voice counts as voice. Whose room counts as space. Whose story gets to be canon. We don’t want better metaphors for that. We want the rooms.
A planetarium showing the night sky from a Mississippi porch. An immersive museum room holding a market in Puebla. A youth-center wall holding the corner of a block in Orlando. A Berlin table where 112 voices sat down twenty years ago, opened back up for the next twenty. Same tools, same dignity, surfaced where they belong — not as exception, but as the work.
The lineage we read from runs from Ralph Ellison’s basement to the curriculum committees and back. Visibility on our own terms. Light we made for ourselves. From the streets to the ivory tower — both rooms are ours, neither is the only one.
We build forward. Gaussian-splat 360° capture. Object-based audio that knows the room it’s playing in. Immersive pieces designed for documentary, civic media, and education in the same breath. The pedagogy comes first; the tooling serves it.
The spatial web is being built right now — mostly without us.
Apple, Meta, and Google scan every street and every room to build their version of spatial reality. Our neighborhoods become the backdrop. Our blocks become someone else’s infrastructure. The voices we carry — the ones that have already been extracted from us once — flow out of our hands a second time.
So we built the tools we needed, and we put them where anyone can reach them. The 360° Builder so a community can author its own world from a phone. The Invisible Choir so a street can hold its own voices. Squinch so you can see the work land in a room before you can afford the room. Asili so a corpus can be read through lenses its own people chose. And the venue engine under all of it, going open the day we settle on what to call it. We keep building — always something new on the way.
Digital sovereignty, for us, is plainer than a slogan. It’s whose hand holds the microphone when the recording starts. Whose consent is on file when the piece ships. Whose neighborhood gets to own the archive after it’s made — not just sit inside it. Voices have been extracted from our communities for generations. The digital age shouldn’t be one more round of that. If you’re building your own tools for the same reason — we want to know you. The work is more interesting together.
2026 is the 20th anniversary of the original Table of Free Voices. We’re holding a new circle — and the work isn’t ours to finish. As people step into the piece (a phone, a planetarium, a wall in a youth center), every visitor adds what they bring. Send a voice note. Record a quick video. Or just write us. Same form, your medium. We hold what arrives. It all gathers at tableoffreevoices.org.
No spam. No marketing list. A real person reads it — usually within 48 hours.