February 2010 Archives

My dissertation is focusing ever more on generative systems. I'm working on the dissertation proposal and this week, I'm writing about what constitutes a generative system. Rather than turning out formal prose, I'm just writing between 1000-2000 words, written quickly. It feels lighter this way and it captures my insights better.

I've been doing a close reading of Nicholas Negroponte's The Architecture Machine (1970), J.C.R. Licklider's "Man-Machine Symbiosis" (1960) and Warren McCulloch's (ready? this is long) "Toward some circuitry of ethical robots or an observational science of the genesis of social evaluation in the mind-like behavior of artifacts" (1956). In this case, I'm using some of the methods I followed when I worked on a paper about Adolf Behne's work in the 1920s and the notion of the apparatus... I suppose that this isn't too different, since Negroponte is all about generative apparatuses.

So what is a generative system? Here's a broad list of attributes I've gathered so far.

I need to group these and boil them down: these come from the work of a few figures in architecture and information theory, cybernetics and AI. The funny thing is, as much as I will apply these attributes to architecture, they apply to a certain attitude of systems in general. (I suspect that we should build systems today to strive for more of these attributes.) I'll take the initial framework and bounce it against the work of the people in my case studies: Christopher Alexander, Cedric Price and Nicholas Negroponte. It's nice that I'll get to take on the most exciting aspects of my master's thesis research on Cedric Price.

Next week, I'm aiming to start pouring content into the actual proposal with the plan to finish it at the beginning of March. There are other things that may compete with that, in reality, but I'm trying to keep enough structure and momentum going so that it carries me forward.

Fist, I passed my general exam! It was a two-hour, closed-door critique of my work by Beatriz Colomina (head of the PhD program), Christine Boyer (my advisor), Ed Eigen, Spyros Papapetros and Brigid Doherty. It was very positive. I found it fascinating to see how the commitee drew links and connections through the body of work I had presented. It was apparent to them that I had a method and a clear set of interests (though the method is not as clear to me as it is to them--I inhabit it). They actually said that they enjoyed the papers -- that's the word they used. The committee thought my work needed to be theorized better and that media theory seemed to be useful (I have a meeting with the fabulous Tom Levin tomorrow to discuss). They thought my research paper -- the one that will undergirds my dissertation -- was the weakest, but I knew that: I had gone through 11 drafts of it and it was out of control. But that indicates to me that I have found the right topic for a doctoral dissertation. Overall, I got useful feedback that I can apply to both the larger scale of my work and the smaller scale. 

The whole process of the general exam, from selecting papers to revising and expanding, to editing and presenting, really boosted my confidence -- something I did not expect. It made me realize that I have a genuine body of work rich with research questions. It gave me a chance to see the common threads passing through the work: the things that tease me intellectually and won't let me go. I now have all of these ideas of things I look forward to working on in a career, not just a dissertation. 

I'm also ready to get back to writing, not just for my own work but out in the world. Maybe it's time to start writing a column somewhere? We'll see. 

I'm grappling with two different directions on my dissertation proposal. On one hand, I can write about the introduction of the computer to architecture. There are three themes: methodology, representation, and generation. But really, it's the generative systems that I think are really interesting. I have an idea about how architectural computing becomes computing architecture, how it on one hand ends up as ubiquitous computing, and on the other, as spatial metaphors for computing. There are reasons to do both: one is a straightforward dissertation; the other really ties together my big questions but might be harder to convince an architectural committee. I'm helped by the fact that much of these things happened within MIT's architecture school, where the Architecture Machine Group existed and the Media Lab still resides (even if they don't cross over at all with the history/theory/criticism part of the school). Talking with my advisor, Christine Boyer, will help: she listens well, she was at MIT in the period that I'm researching, and she's done a good job of steering me the right way.

I keep coming back to haptic and physical engagement with space. Nicholas Negroponte & Richard Bolt's 1977 Spatial Data Management System is really interesting in that it gave rise to the desktop metaphor, but what really intrigues me is the importance of "motor-memory reinforcement" -- the notion that by physically putting something somewhere, or by going somewhere, it reinforces memory. They give the example of Simonides, the Greek poet famous for his ability to memorize long oratory. Negroponte explained in 1986, "His secret was to tie each successive part of a to-be-remembered poem or speech to a specific locale within the mental floor plan of either an actual or imagined temple. For each successive subsection of the talk to be given, the orator would mentally walk from place to place within the temple, rehearsing the appropriate material before some specific piece of statuary." (Stewart Brand, The Media Lab, 1987, 138). This points out what eBook readers get wrong: the physical, haptic engagement of reading. It also points out a key question of what "future of reading" projects miss out on: the physics of authorship. 

There's so much possibility in that idea! It's not about creating a metaphor, or a bookshelf on a device -- that's done and usually, done poorly (the iPad is no exception). It's also not a gestural mode of interaction with a device -- but what would happen if we created things that help us learn by our own movements? I'm going to work more on that in the coming days and share my thoughts about it.

I'm going to light some candles, invoke some hygge, and watch the snow fall... and write. I'll let you know where this puts me next week.

The key thing is that my oral exam for my generals is tomorrow (or rather, in about 13 hours): it is a two-hour, closed-door critique of my work by Beatriz Colomina (head of the PhD program), Christine Boyer (my advisor), Ed Eigen, Spyros Papapetros and Brigid Doherty. All are professors I've taken courses with and all are major heavyweights in their disciplines. There are very few times in your life that you get this kind of feedback -- my master's thesis defense is really the only other time -- and the next time will be my dissertation defense in a couple of years. It's terrifying. I'm working through not being defensive and remembering the critique is a good thing. Oh yeah: it is something that one passes or fails. It's never a foregone conclusion.

Okay, so back to weeknotes. Last Saturday, I flew to Mexico City, where Jesus de Francisco  was directing a commercial. I got to be an accessory to the whole enterprise (read: tourist and onlooker). Despite spending 15 years in design and creative fields, film and television are new to me. There were so many layers of things: Motion Theory (the production company), the agency, the client, the local production company in Mexico, the talent from Mexico and the UK. I watched an estate in Mexico City become a midwestern backyard and a rooftop in the Centro Histórico transform into a Brooklyn loft rooftop. I lost track of how many people were on the set -- 50, perhaps? So much fast activity and thinking on one's feet. The day that I got back, Motion Theory won a Grammy for the Black Eyed Peas video, "Boom Boom Pow" -- back-to-back with the Grammy they won last year for Weezer's "Pork and Beans" video. 

Mexico City was a treat -- messy and strange and neverending and exciting. I met Brett Schultz, thanks to Lia's kind introduction, and visited Yautepec, the gallery he runs with his girlfriend Daniela. Currently, a show called "Shoot" is up, showing he work of Thomas Jeppe, Jason Nocito, Ola Rindal and Paul Schiek's work. It's a part of an international exhibition with different photographers showing at different galleries around the world. Brett showed me the wonderful bookstore Conejo Blanco that we happened upon on the way to the mezcaleria (mmm). I had mezcal that had been cured with chicken breast. Go figure.

The architecture blew me away, particularly the concrete architecture of Pedro Ramírez Vásquez -- the architect of the Mexico City Olympics in 1968 and the World Cup in 1970. He designed the Museo Nacional de Antropología in 1963 and the amazing Basilica of Guadalupe in 1974-6, which we visited by accident and I'm so glad I didn't miss. It turns out that Enrique is related to the architect. In fact, the city in general blew me away, and I spent a fair amount of time just looking at things: looking out the windows of the hotel at the volcanos, the buildings, the presidential helicopters, the trees, the smog, the light, the low slung residential buildings in La Condesa, the concrete architecture all over the city, the 1956 Torre Latinoamericana skyscraper. There's nothing quite like it. I hear rumors that the next Postopolis will be held in Mexico DF-- I'd love to go back. 

In the next several days, after I recover from my oral exam, I'll post pictures on Flickr from the trip. I'm also beginning to work on my dissertation proposal -- it will incorporate the feedback I get tomorrow. My hope is to present it on March 10, in advance of South by Southwest and spring break at Princeton, which means that I have a very intense and busy month ahead of me.

Please think good thoughts for me between 2 and 4 p.m. EST. Wish me luck!