Turku: Walking and crossing

Perhaps I ought to learn at least some phrases in Finnish. I feel as close to an imperialist as I’ve ever have, asking people “svenska, talar du svenska?” all the time. Case in point: I forgot to bring a carry-around bag so went hunting for one in second hand stores. In one cramped store I find a cloth bag but try to ask the older lady if she possibly has something similar but with longer handles, appropriate for fashionable slinging up on ones shoulder. I go through English and Swedish and pantomime and am bringing out my notebook for some Pictionary, when both she and her co-worker just wave me out of the store, with a “thank you” (unless “kippis” has a second meaning, such as “shove off”) and gesturing that I can take the bag and leave. At least I hope that’s what they meant, but for all I know they thought I was telling them to “put all your money in this bag, make it large money,” and they were thanking me for not hurting them. I don’t know.

I had ambitions when I first got here that I’d use the time to whip my pasty butt into some sort of shape resembling an actual butt, and started out strong with jogging every second day and even going so far as to checking out the dorm gym. A week later I’m feeling a slight cold coming on and I’m drinking beer and eating crisps for dinner. I’m sure there is a middle-ground somewhere, but I’d be fucked if I can find it. I do hope that I’ll keep up the running though, if for no other reason than to balance out the hours sitting in the studio poking at the RepRap.

Speaking of which, I’m having some progress in the building department, and have half of it put together already. It’s probably the most straightforward part of this whole endeavor, and mostly entails following instructions and spinning a lot of bolts onto rods and such, but at least there’s a physical thing I can point to and say: Behold! Yesterday twas but a heap of rods, today it stands on it’s extruded feet. Verily, progress! etc. etc.

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Two more observations regarding the traffic in Turku: First off, the bikers here drive poorly, often on sidewalks or against the flow of other bikes, while at the same time not signaling. This is in large part because the bike lanes are merged with sidewalks more often than motor traffic, and it’s just too crowded with pedestrians to allow smooth going.

Secondly, drivers are much less likely to stop for you at a zebra crossing, even if you’re already halfway in the road. Anecdotal data, and so on, but it’s happened enough times for me to notice. Also, people are very hesitant to walk on red on a crossing, even when it’s safe; It’s possible they know something I don’t. My lack of inhibition in this area makes me feel very low level badass, as pedestrian badassery goes.

Maybe related: back home people get the hell out of the way when there’s an emergency vehicle flashing lights, while on three occasions I’ve seen an ambulance or cop car stuck behind traffic which didn’t budge. Granted, once it was an older driver obviously lost and looking for the right exit, but you’d imagine that the honking, blinking, waving and shouting police behind her was a clear enough signal. So perhaps it’s an indication of an individualistic yet wary mindset? Should one do generalizations of a whole city — nay people —  on the basis of walking back and forth along four streets for a week? Of course one should, what kind of question is that?

Reading the city. Dancing in the streets.

Exactly what common ground do the modular megastructure of Plug-In City and the instrumentalized cityscapes of Civilization share? Both of these frameworks propose that urban growth is an algorithmic or procedural operation whereby “the city” (rather than a singular edifice) embodies the essence of Le Corbusier’s technophilic proclamations that architecture should function as a “machine for living”.

→ Serial Consign, Greg Smith: Urban screens: The schematic city in gaming and architectural representation

Schmidt has uncovered a vast and beautiful temple complex, a structure so ancient that it may be the very first thing human beings ever built. The site isn’t just old, it redefines old: the temple was built 11,500 years ago—a staggering 7,000 years before the Great Pyramid, and more than 6,000 years before Stonehenge first took shape. The ruins are so early that they predate villages, pottery, domesticated animals, and even agriculture—the first embers of civilization.

→ Newsweek, Patrick Symmes: History in the Remaking

The first of two fingernails found at the site suggests Ötzi may have been ill. Characteristic lines across the nail suggest his immune system was compromised three times in the months prior to his death. The second nail has yet to be analysed.

→ Cosmos, John Pickrell: Who killed the iceman?

In his spare time Professor Nas is a magician. The magic he’s working for the car companies is to devise the right voice to make driving safest, certainly, but also a voice that gives the car a character that you like, so it seems like your friend, or the other half of your driving team; You and the car. As he puts it: A team-mate bucks you up when you’re down, A team-mate takes over when you need it to take over, and people looove team-mates.

→ BBC, From Our Own Correspondents, Steven Evans: Future of back-seat drivers

[audio:https://www.monocultured.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/FOOC_BBC_Radio_4_03_Jun_2010.mp3|titles=Future of back-seat drivers|artists=BBC – Steven Evans]

Midsummer in Gothenburg

I figured I’d spend this years birthday and midsummer low key, which translates into “biking like crazy around town and drinking beer in front of Farscape”, and it was interesting. There’s a post-apocalyptic feeling to a city which everyone has evacuated in favour of the countryside. It’s what the city will look like after ebola becomes airborne, minus the rotting corpses. Left behind as it were.

Just like biking at night gives you a new understanding of how a city can work, staying behind while everyone else leaves is an interesting experience. Everything seems more fragile, the sun and weeds and birds seem poised to invade. Next year I’m making sure to do something with friends, which is how I believe a day like this ought to be celebrated.

Or perhaps we can plan the perfect heist while everyone else is grilling hotdogs and getting smashed.

Fabbing: Been there, done that, made a copy of the copy.

I’m putting together a project description of a workshop I’d like to run. The people I’ve pitched to are enthusiastic, but putting the course into academic-speak is difficult. It’s about 3D printing and other rapid manufacturing technologies, so I’m trying to get my bearings on the state of the art.

I don’t know how I missed the Rhizome article on the subject, Means of Production: Fabbing and Digital Art, as it’s a good primer on how radpid manufacturing is used in modern art. To sum it up: There isn’t much happening and what is happening is mostly concerned with sculptural works.

(Then again, there are trials with printing living cells, so your kids might soon be able to not only pull the legs off spiders, but design and manufacture better legs as replacement…)

Fabbaloo links to a 2001 presentation by Marshall Burns and James Howison which pretty well sums up what I tried to express in the pirate ebay post, when it comes to how our relationship to the object might change:

As in other cases where revenues are in doubt, designers and manufacturers will have to ask themselves what business they are in. In other words, what is it that people will pay them for, what will be their value proposition? Clearly, it will become harder to get paid for the physical arrangement of atoms in a product because that will be too easy for fabbers to make. Even the creative content (“intellectual property”) of a design fades in monetary value because it is too easily duplicated. Link

But now I do have to stop. I simply must. I must put away the Red Bull cans, and stop clicking and typing. I have to stop, so I can print my bed. I have to print my bed, so that I can lie in it.

→ IconEye, Bruce Sterling: The hypersurface of this decade (Via Fabbaloo)

Cornucopia is a concept design for a personal food factory that brings the versatility of the digital world to the realm of cooking. In essence, it is a three dimensional printer for food, which works by storing, precisely mixing, depositing and cooking layers of ingredients.

→ MIT, Fluid Interfaces Group: Cornucopia, Digital gastronomy (Via Shapeways)

On the moon, a research station is being constructed by robots.On top of a gantry, in place of the usual lifting hoist, an automatic arm extends downwards over the station. At the end of this arm, a nozzle squirts a concrete-like material onto the half-built walls like a mechanical hand icing an implausibly large cake. At the same time, computer-controlled trowels shape and smooth the concrete so that it’s flush with the wall below. The whole assembly moves back and forth to build up internal and external walls in layers. Further robotic arms are positioning services inside the building and lifting lintels onto the walls in order to make the roof. In just 24 hours, the house will be complete.

→ Craft, Lee Hasler: A giant leap for a brickie (pdf)

For some reason I start thinking about the space gel ant colony, where the hapless ants are allowed to burrow in 3D space, and out of a solid material create space. When diving last summer the thought struck me that we lack a model of envisioning architecture as a three dimensional space — not strange since we can’t fly, nor swim through the air — except maybe for the astronauts in space, for whom “up” is an arbitrary concept. (Or the IDF soldiers in Gaza, as BLDGBLOG pointed out recently)

Lets assume that 1) we’re extracting space out of matter, not building spaces, but extruding them out of something; destroying material. 2) And into this shapely void which we have made, we introduce objects that we desire – and we don’t build them, or assemble them, but rather extrude them. Need a table? Extrude it. Need somewhere to place the table? Extrude it.

Human will as a metaphor of a factory; Of a digging, burrowing animal, constantly crawling through strata, leaving tunnels behind, filled with the debris of time, want and need, manifested in ABS plastic.

Michael Jackson Ganglia Assembly

You know that one time that you and a friend showed up for a marathon and realised too late that you’ve signed up for a competition for “special children” but can’t really back out cause you might win the chocolate trophy; Besides you already paid the fee and have running shoes on? Well, Bustler and Archinect ran a Michael Jackson Monument Design competition and the entries are now available for voting on, and they’re of mixed quality.

Some contenders didn’t bother to look up “monument” in the dictionary but lept straight for the lens flare filter, while others did cute conceptual pieces. A few are good: Permanently exploding atom bomb Michael Jackson and Anti-terrorist Golden Statue with Lasers go for the humour. Lift & Slide is the only installation which seems thought through and MJ Sperm Bank is cute, but the rest are mostly photoshops of Michaels feet and the moon.

MJ_Anti_terroris_gold

MJ_nanobot

Go vote for my anti-cancer nano-glove. Let the others get their “You’re also super!” diplomas. I want that chocolate trophy and special groupies.

End of show, summery.

The course that I’ve been teaching at Chalmers is over. The fifth year students are finishing their masters projects and there’s some running around and mild panic regarding the final exabition, but for all intents and purposes the course itself is over.

It’s tempting to attempt a summery of things that were experienced and lessons learned, but I refrain from doing one giant monster post on the subject and instead maybe shower you with the golden sparks of detail.

For example: Architect Carl-Johan can be seen below, pointing in the general direction of something visionary and awesome. He joined me and Ana two weeks ago in doing the final critique of the projects. He’s brother of the artist formely known as Andreas-in-Gothenburg, with whom he shares laughter and a mischievous wink.