Description



Steel Ice & Stone is a multi-media interactive installation.
Nine suspended LED panels and sensor-triggered sound create an environment for memory recall.

Monday, October 14, 2013

Dust Off and Take Off

I made my funding goal, with six hours to go. A backer bought a large piece that tipped my goal. I was with the engineers. After that, an additional two backers made pledges to bring the total funding to $10,165. Because I had one backer cancellation and another reducing the amount of their pledge, I stayed up to watch the seconds count down, keeping my fingers crossed. It felt great.

I was burnt to a crisp and needed to decompress. But today, I'm at it again, Skyping the LED guy to order the nine panels. He's sending me a PI (Proposed invoice, or RFP) tonight and I'll initiate payment. He says he can get me all nine units by the end of October; I say first week of November.

Also in the works is a new speaker. The original item is overkill for this project. Yes, it's nice, but I hadn't considered that there will be nine of them. While both venues are big, nine of the original units will blow the roof off them. I ordered a new, smaller one; I'll test it when it comes in at the end of the week. If I'm not confident I'll go back to the bigger one.

Wouldn't it be nice to have enough funds to outfit this project with those tiny BOSE speakers? However, I've already caught flack from "marketing expert" lookers-on that my KS goal of $ 10,000 was too high, as if they did any research to see how much things cost. Annoying, but I don't have time for their noise.

I already have the scans back so I'll work on those starting tonight. And, I'll start getting calls out to the riggers in NJ forwarded to me by ArtLab's director. I have to finish processing the sound. Other calls go out to Ithaca and the sound libraries in case they can recommend anything else.

And the engineers! Oy gevalt! (coming from me, trust me, it's sincere) The sensors are acting out, needing a longish reset time. They say can be fixed in the programming. Just in case, however, Dr. Marantz is looking at another sensor. They're both confident. I'm....well, let's say...nothing.

I have the sketches for the catalog; gotta firm up the copy from my curator friends. And then, I've gotta work on my backer's rewards. I'm finding nine frames, making a bunch of acrylic cases, the screen saver, uploading the wallpaper and ringtone.

I love this. I really do.


Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Some of the Gory Details

The longest month of my life: That's what I call this Kickstarter campaign. The emails, the facetime, the tweeting and posting. Wow, this has been intense. I'll write about it at length in the near future after I've had time to process the information.

What's important now, even though I haven't secured funding, are the components. Three things are at the forefront:

The LEDs, the Images and the Electronics. Since I got the working breadboard last night, I'm showing it off, totally psyched.

Electronics gurus might snicker, but I believe I owe some explanation to others.

Item a) is the motion sensor for chip b). Similarly, f) is the motion sensor for chip e).

Item d), tucked under one of the blue cylinders, is a small chip Dr. Marantz discussed earlier to regulate the data (sound) from each piece. This allows both sound chips to play simultaneously yet independently when their corresponding sensor is tripped.

Item c) is the microcontroller. I understand the basic principles and will attempt to explain them below. Engineers Dr. Marantz and Remy Cucui volley ideas about which model of the arduino is better suited for this project. I'm an avid listener, smiling politely as they discuss the subtleties talmudicly.

Item g) is a dummy speaker; the final one will be a speaker bar that uses a remote to control the volume. Nice.

Item h) is the code on Remy's cell phone. He has the app installed and can change the programming on the fly. The code goes through an encoder, Item i) and the code goes to the arduino via the UBS (coming in from the top of the image). 

How it works:
The arduino controls the operation (hence the term micro-controller), working from a series of commands input by the code. When purchased, the little computer is a blank slate, capable of giving electronic commands to all kinds of devices according to the code that's programmed into it.

It's hard to see in the photo, but the arduino has a several rows (pins) of input and output terminals into which wires are plugged in. When instructions are programmed, they're linked to a specific pin so the wires plugged into that pin send the programmed instructions to the corresponding component or pin on a microchip.

Each chip has different functions, and the ones used in this project are sound chips like the ones used in talking toys and answering machines, so they're set up to record and playback sound. I've used chips like this in other projects and the chip has remained more or less unchanged over the years. What has changed, however, is the ability for the chip to store more data = longer sound messages or sound bytes.

The chips are  connected to the breadboard, the white perforated rectangle. Impossible to see, there are little conducting wires throughout it that channel the data from the arduino to the chip. Their function is fine tuned by the other components like resistors, diodes, transistors and capacitors.

The code, written on a cell phone, is processed into a signal the micro-controller understands. Also programmed is the sensitivity of the motion sensors--defining the circumstances to trip the chips to begin playback.

Those little intricacies bring the installation to life, and it's the culmination of the work. Right now, I just wish I could get this thing funded.


Friday, October 4, 2013

Building the Work

With my Kickstarter's end a mere six days away, I must turn my attention to things far more important: the installation itself. I never imagined a crowd funding campaign to be so consuming; and I'm not sure I will ever undertake something like this again. While, going forward, I will have a much larger reach and the needs will not be as great, I still wonder if it gets easier the second time around.

Doesn't matter.

Gotta build the work. The LED panels, made in China, are only part of the challenge. The engineers have to also get the electronics done by the end of the month for the last prototype installation at City Tech. Today I will be going to the Gowanus Ballroom with the LED panel to see how it will suspend in that locale, and, how power will be distributed to the nine panels.

As I get ready for that, I recall other installations being built or struck. Any time Richard Serra exhibits at Gagosian Gallery, people show up to see the installation of the huge metal sculptures. The attached photos give no idea to the extent of planning that goes into putting a work like this in a room. It's wonderful to see, as the entire back wall of the gallery is removed and the sculpture is brought in, piece by piece, on tracks and cranes.

When he had his show at the MoMA a few years back, this vid was produced on the installation of two works in the sculpture garden. The crane is visible in the second sculpture's installation. This stuff is not for the faint-hearted.


My nine panels present their own challenge:

The two exhibition spaces are not normally equipped to exhibit work that is both large and electronic; it's a challenge for them as well. The square footage of the exhibition space is not a problem either in Trenton or Gowanus, and since both were industrial buildings at one point, and suspending my 300+/- pound (136 kg) installation is not a big deal for them. Bringing power to the units is. 

I'm spoiled from when I exhibited the prototype in Red Hook, since that facility has relatively low ceilings with wooden spacers every 18 inches (45 cm). And, their power is right there, running along those spacers. I approach the two exhibition venues with respect and trepidation, although the exhibition directors of both venues are confident putting this work up will be a breeze. Ha!

However, many if not most installations are hardly a walk in the park. Some installation works are suspended, and others have to be walked through or around. Hans Haacke's "Germania" at the 1993 Venice Biennale is intentionally meant to be trod over, which sadly may limit some viewers' experience. Although the photograph below is beautiful and representative, it doesn't do justice to this moving introspective piece. 

Walking over the shattered slabs
in Haacke's "Germania"  created
 a gentle sonata.
What this conversation leads to, then, is that the work itself--the physical item--is truly meant to be intermingled with the viewer; and that effect is taken on in different ways according to the intent of the artist. This type of work is often difficult to interpret because, like SIS, it requires the viewer to enter the mind of the artist, and that is the real challenge. Often, an installation's concept is quite easy to understand; it's making the leap to how the elements translate themselves to evoke emotion that stymies viewers. 

Sometimes viewers don't know that they can interact with a piece unless told to do so. I'm on the fence about this: "push a button and this will happen" does not define interactivity in my book. Yet, how do viewers know that their presence will elicit a reaction? That's where the sensors in my work comes in. Only with the presence of the viewers will my work react. That's at the heart of the piece. SIS is there for one viewer to take in; alone with themselves. As others in the room do the same, the sound grows and melds into a layered sensation. The experience deepens. As I've said before: it's a dance I share with my viewer.

What pieces like this do is transform the viewer into a participant; the work's sensations are set free by those present.