+Formative Ideas

Our investigation began by asking a simple set of questions:

>>What is a sensor?

>>How are sensors part of our every day lives?

>>What can be learned when implicit data from ordinary events is made explicit?

The typical definition of a senor is a technical one. A sensor is “any device that receives a signal or stimulus (as heat or pressure or light or motion etc.) and responds to it in a distinctive manner” ((http://wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn?s=sensor)). Usually this conjures up images of highly technical objects. A weather balloon, for example, can be outfitted with altimeters, Geiger counters, and pressure gauges. These instruments allow meteorologist to predict climate change and weather patterns, and require specific skills to understand the readings. However, sensors do not need to be embedded in such lofty examples. Low-tech devices–such as a bell that rings as customer enters a shop–can act as sensors in as much as they reflect information about their environment. Our cultural preconceptions of technological devices limit how we view these simpler instruments.

Our preconceptions can be found in the definition itself. The term “device” connotes both a bodily external and functionally explicit object. A sensor is then often conceived of as an object designed for a particular process of data reflection. That is to say, device as a term lacks a certain organic quality, aligning sensors with manufactured mechanisms rather than biological ones. Likewise, device implies that sensors have a well-defined purpose. The high-tech and low-tech examples fulfill these preconditions, and led to a secondary line of thought.

If sensors are simply devices for reflecting data from the environment, then people seem to be wonderful sensors.

+People-as-sensors

>>A well-conditioned runner traverses a city. On a normal, clear day, the runner can complete the course in 40 minutes; today, it takes 45 minutes. The runner’s lungs hurt and muscles ache. The assessment: the air is full of more particulate matter than usual.

>>A tech-savvy person waits in traffic on the highway and posts the experience on Twitter.

In order to navigate our environment, we must be aware of a variety of conditions–data processing is part of our daily life. Every moment from putting on clothing in the morning to setting an alarm before bed is a product data. Some of the data comes from the immediate environment, such as weather or traffic. Other data stems from the non-immediate environment, such as emotions. The difficulty in treating people as sensors becomes how to gather the data that informs their actions, and how to assess the data in a meaningful way.

The runner may be right about the air, or may just be coming down with a cold. As much as people are wonderful sensors of the environment, they are not as good at communicating that data directly. By finding a large enough group of corroborating stories–e.g. many unrelated runners making similar claims about air quality–the more validity a response appears to have. Directly asking people can sway opinion. Our method is to exploit existing forums to gather data sensed by people.The candid and diverse communication found on the internet allows information to be gathered without interrupting its issuance. Similarly, embedding recording devices within participatory groups disguises the process of immediate data collection.

What do people tell us about the city?

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+Background

Space is a fluid. While certain features remain static–buildings, parks, and roads–their interpretation, and so use, shifts over time. Some areas change permanently and slowly–an old industrial area may become an art district, where the large open spaces for machinery are gallery space. Some areas change temporarily and quickly–an unused park may host concert. These changes also touch upon another issue–space is negotiated. Slippage of a space’s meaning is less deductive than it is inductive; that is, the purpose of a space is determined by the use of that space. Whether an old factory is a gallery, or a park, a concert venue, depends on how a group decide (re)use it.

Sometimes, there is a breakdown in this negotiation. In the case of protests, the typical use of a space is commandeered, forcibly redefining how to view and use a space. Subversive uses of space are not met without challenge. Skateboarders, for instance, have led urban planners and architects to add deterrents to once-innocuous structures, such as metal plates attached to ledges.

The breakdown can work in the opposite direction though. Cyclists experience this on a daily basis in many cities across the globe. Where pedestrians have sidewalks, and automobiles have roads, bicycles are left somewhere in between. When bike lanes exist, they are narrow and often ignored by motorist for their distinct purpose. When bike lanes do not exist, cyclists, motorists, and pedestrians inevitably clash.

In 1992, a group of cyclists decided to make their voice heard by in the San Francisco Bay area. Part protest, part parade, Critical Mass (as it came to be called) spread from one to hundreds of cities around the world as a way of representing solidarity amongst cyclists. The idea is simple: cyclists take over the streets, forcing cars to yield.

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+Goals

Our project focuses on how cyclists reuse, and so redefine, urban space. The project treats the cycling community as a case study, more broadly investigating how a marginalized community invents new uses for space through disruption, inversion, and complication of traditional uses. We also explore how to visualize and represent opinions and data surrounding reuse.

Our goals are:

>> To engage participants and non-participants in a discussion surrounding the potential issues and opinions about contestational reuse.

>> To express data as an embodied (rather than informational) product of the event.

>> To explore the potential for robotics as data visualization tools.

+What

“Issue the Margins” is an exploration in information visualization and robotics. Consisting of large video projections and kinetic robotic sculptures, the installation documents a single Critical Mass ride (Atlanta, GA) from four separate riders.

The videos are played in real-time and synchronized to replicate the real-time experience of the ride, and are intended to be projected on large scrims or surfaces.

One set of sculptures display the speed of an individual rider at the current moment. This is accomplished by mounting a chain cog to a DC motor that is controlled by an Arduino. The data is synchronized with the video, and uploaded onto the microcontrollers. The other set of sculptures display the current heart rate of a rider. Using servo motors and Arduinos, mallets beat a drum or resonant surface at the synchronized real-time heart.

The installation can take two distinct forms. In a gallery, the videos and sculptures stand alone to overtake space. Four large scrims are positioned to minimize the walking/viewing areas for the audience. Inside the scrims is a region that houses the sculptures. Alternately, the videos and sculptures can be placed outside. The videos are projected on existing grids of buildings, while the sculptures occupy nearby bike racks and trashcans. Both forms intend to embody emotional and spatial themes of the original event.

+How

Data is collected by mounting two cameras on four riders. Each rider also has a GPS and heart rate monitor.

+Process

>>Initial stage

The project started as research into how to reuse toys. Our ideas surrounded cheap ways to create sensors and actuators to easily engage people in a discussion about data pervading the cityscape. Since researchers can often enter communities with funding and equipment that far surpasses the native resources, we wanted to generate ways of gathering data that relied on ingenuity with everyday things. In this, we sought to educate people about what sensors and actuators can tell them about their environment, as well as teach them methods for finding out about their environment through everyday objects. Lastly, we wanted to open up pathways for people to think about data and data collection as a primal part of living.

This early stage of research led us to numerous thrift stores, flea markets, and dumpsters. We also began to look toward groups that existed that engaged in alternate uses of urban space, such as skateboarders and cyclists. By appealing to the inborn adaptive nature of a community, we hoped to cultivate the same attitude toward technology. Due to our shared interest in cycling, we began interviewing cyclists about their needs in the city. This led us to the Sopo Bicycle Co-Op.

>>Lessons from Sopo

Sopo Bicycle Co-Op is an organization in East Atlanta Village which provides parts, volunteer labor, and tools to cyclists. For a nominal fee or in exchange for old parts, cyclists build, repair, and maintain their bicycles. The organization’s goal is to educate people about bicycles, along with promote bicycling through out the city of Atlanta.

When we interviewed Rachel Spiewak, a volunteer and executive director of Sopo, we were overwhelmed by the variety of concerns she expressed. While many dealt with infrastructural support for cyclists–e.g. bike lanes and racks–the majority focused on the hostile and dangerous conditions cyclists meet on the roads daily. Her biggest concern was with how to improve the dialog between the cycling and automotive communities.

>>A New Direction