I've been reading a biography (and scientific/historical fact dump) by a synesthete named Patricia Duffy titled, "Blue Cats and Chartreuse Kittens: How Synesthetes Color Their World."
Synesthesia is describes as the "involuntary joining in which the real information of one sense is accompanied by a perception in another sense." An involuntary blending, that to the synesthete is a completely natural process of sensory perception. Senses are not delegated to their own realms of perception: sounds and feelings and the appearance of words have distinct and sometimes material color.
This is of course a phenomenon that occurs to those who have the genetic "defect." (Though many have attempted to replicate the effect through the use (and abuse) of psychedelics.)
Thinking about synesthesia made me think automatically to this class and that perhaps a replication (physical, not psychopharmacological) could be attempted where sensory perceptions are blurred. The experiencer of the space must combine the emergence of certain sensory triggers - and will therefore be unable to separate them in their perceptive field.
I'm sure there are ways to achieve this affect (though I doubt never to the potency of the synesthete) - and one that seems to have been attempted (perhaps not with this intent) is the idea of the kinetic floor.
Above is a link to the NY Times article about the Dutch nightclub that uses the club-goers weight and movement upon the dance floor to power the club, and simultaneously the lights emanating from the floor itself. If movement triggers the appearance of certain colored lights - perhaps a correlation within the perception of the user can be made with the sensation of moving in dance/the music and the colors presented by the lights...
How can this idea be carried further and out of the dance club?
awesome book/essays/exhibit/ideas about maps and information.
http://www.an-atlas.com/
"An Atlas of Radical Cartography is a collection of 10 maps and 10 essays about social issues from globalization to garbage; surveillance to extraordinary rendition; statelessness to visibility; deportation to migration. The map is inherently political-- and the contributions to this book wear their politics on their sleeves.
An Atlas of Radical Cartography provides a critical foundation for an area of work that bridges art/design, cartography/geography, and activism. The maps and essays in this book provoke new understandings of networks and representations of power and its effects on people and places. These new perceptions of the world are the prerequisites of social change.
Take something simple like walking. When I walk I use my eyes to direct my motion. My mind wanders and I hardly realize that every sense in my body is constantly taking in information, and using that information to keep me from colliding or losing my way. I decide to test myself. I want to see if I can stay on the cement path without visual assistance. I take a good look at the path ahead, and notice where it bends. I inhale deeply, then close my eyes.
I am immediately struck by panic, but I try to calm myself and focus on the path now not so much ahead of me as under me. All of a sudden I am no longer thinking of the outside world, but am acutely aware only of my body in space. When my eyes are closed I don’t feel that I am moving forward. I think about my stride, the swing of my arms, and how much closer each repetition of these must be getting me to the curve in the path.
The variant in light filtering through my shuttered eyes reminds me of my forward motion. The wind moves across my arm as I proceed through space. I still don’t really feel that I am moving, but previous experience has taught me that when I pass under the shadow of a tree, the light dims, and when I am walking on a windy day, the wind hits me from different angles as I move. My mind and body are giving me contradictory messages. My mind knows that when one foot follows the other this moving phenomenon occurs, but as far as my body is concerned, I could be walking on a treadmill.
I know now that I must be nearing the curve. My heart starts to beat faster, and my footsteps slow. I rotate slightly to the right and feel the breeze against my face now, instead of against my side. I put one foot down, waiting with bated breath to encounter the pavement that will confirm my continued position on the path. The slower I move the more real each movement feels; the more it feels as if I were actually changing my position in relation to the rest of the world. I take a few more deliberate steps. Each time my foot comes in contact with pavement. I tell myself three more steps and I must be out of the curve. Three, two, one. I open my eyes and turn to look back. I am no longer in the middle of the path as I started, but I’m still on the path.
Although vision wasn’t necessary to keep me on the path, it was necessary to orient myself. And even though I wasn’t using my eyes at the time, I was using the memory of vision. My body and my mind know how much scenery will pass me as I take each step. I have seen this happen so many times that I no longer need my eyes to know that this phenomenon will occur. So much information is engrained in our systems that we often take for granted the functions that we are subconsciously performing. By removing sight, the dominate sense, are we able to gain insight into the intricacies of our subconscious perceptions and functions.
a fascinating and pertinent chapter from forthcoming book Networked Publics (Cambridge: The MIT Press, forthcoming 2008).by kazys vernelis and anne friedberg about networks and spatiality.
i am doing an independent study this semester with skender laurasi at umass, focusing on a design for a multi-use mid-rise complex in tirana, albania. the project is an exploration of a rhino script that is based on the marching cubes algorithm, which (this is really simplifying it) takes a heightfield (surface) dataset (z-values on surface) as input and outputs a series of triangulated and polygonal surfaces within a defined bounding box.
below is a series of section cuts through one of these generated volumes (actually four generated volumes that had the same surface input but with minor tweaks) to provide somewhat of an initial study. many more to come in the following weeks...and maybe an actual building in the end.
I just returned from studying abroad for a year at the University of Melbourne in Australia. When I first arrived there one of my friends challenged me with an interesting task: he asked me to put together a series of no more than ten pictures that would show him what Melbourne is about; he wanted to see ten pictures that would convey the atmosphere, the people, the buzz, the excitement,...
I fell in love with the city during this one year I spend there, and it wasn't easy to fit everything I loved into just ten pictures, put I was intrigued by the task, so here we go.
