The manchester
store in Penang populated three floors with crowded rows of products - cloth,
curtains, clothing, complete with accessories and sundries. It was all a
rather daunting clutter; but there had been a promise to buy the grandchildren
a 'little something' from this trip back to beautiful Penang. The mixed
cultures in Georgetown offered a wonderful variety of choices, especially in
clothing and food. The Indian community seemed to manage mainly money exchanges
and fabric - including clothing. Gold and food was handled predominantly by the
Chinese community, but there were other more mixed uses too that involved the many
cultures that thrive in the framework of the original British settlement. The Malay
community seemed to form the Government bodies. The British left in 1957.
The idea was that
we might be able to select a tee shirt with a printed something on it to tell
of Penang. So we thumbed and fumbled through the racks. There was little that
attracted the eye. Were we too fussy? There was an abundance of choice but,
once size had been selected, the graphics on offer were either too cliche or
too crass - too sentimental or too dainty - with the tee shirt base colours being either too rudely bright or
too pastel. We discovered a dark green olive tee shirt that looked an
attractive hue for an eleven-year old. On removing it from the rack, it revealed
a not unattractive graphic in bold, blobby colours with the words 'Angry Birds'
under it in cheeky, grafiti-styled lettering. What did all of this mean? We
were bamboozled, so we asked the attendant. She told us that she really had
little idea about the meaning of 'Angry Birds,' but said that the tee shirts sold well and
were popular with the children. Well, this seemed a good enough recommendation,
so we purchased what was very likely the only tee shirt acceptable to us. It
was dutifully carried down three floors to the cash register staff by the
attendant who thanked us and left us to pay for this purchase. The process
reminded us of other older eras that managed sales with a relaxed, formal ease
when both time and manpower were plentiful - before the days of time
management and functional analyses: time and motion studies. The system looked remarkably extravagant to
our eyes that were more tuned to strategies that were shaped to maximise
efficiency. The tee shirt was processed, wrapped and paid for. A hand written
receipt was passed over to document this tiny transaction. When opened by the
grandchild, the tee shirt proved to be a winner. It was put on immediately,
displayed with pride and not taken off for some days.
Angry Birds turned
out to be a computer game that the children had on their ipods. Watching the
game being played explained the graphics and clarified the references. Each
Angry Bird had its own unique character and characteristics. One by one, they
were placed into a slingshot and fired at their adversaries, be these caged
birds, cats or some other invention. It was so basic that one wondered what all
the fuss was about. Touch the screen near the slingshot, move the finger back as though
stretching the rubber band - and the graphic did just this - adjust the angle
for the planned trajectory, and then remove the finger to release the bird. If all went
well, the cat or other adversary in the line of fire would explode on contact
with a direct hit, or respond similarly as the surrounding structural elements
collapsed on top of the 'baddies.' Then another bird jumped into the sling for
the next shot. The aim was to eradicate all baddies. Scores were accumulated
for every element and baddie demolished or blown up. After all birds had been used,
or when all cats or the baddies had been exterminated, a banner would appear on
the screen declaring the achieved total score in a bewildering roll count of
numbers, a little like the roll of the wheels in a poker machine This dramatic
presentation was highlighted by stars that burst out like fireworks as larger
stars were stamped onto the screen to declare which level of three possible
outcomes had been achieved. Level one was the lowest and most rudimentary of
outcomes, seemingly requiring little skill or guile. One had to discover subtle
and more shrewd approaches and strategies in order to reach the higher levels.
The whole game was accompanied with dramatic music, thumping and banging to
suit the various stages of the game in the same way that 'Who wants to be a
Millionaire' uses background sound to emphasize the trauma, drama and wonder of
the occasion. If one did not eradicate all cats and baddies, the large banner
would flash onto the screen with a sigh of despair, declaring for everyone to
hear that you had failed. All of this only offered the player the challenge to
get the baddies or to achieve a higher level in the game which turned out to be
a set of thirty different games. With three levels per game, this particular
set offered the player ninety game opportunities. The other matter that drove one on
to succeed was that the next game could only be accessed once at least a level
one had been achieved on the game before it. The whole Angry Bird game was an
intricate maze of challenges that stimulated more and more effort until all
ninety levels had been achieved. Then there were other sets to be tackled. The
children knew all about the particular details, tasks, rules and characters.
The bright yellow stars that accumulated under the graphic marker for each game
made everything obvious. The voids disclared that more effort was needed, while
all achievement was praised with copious stars, both bold and bursting.
Basically this was a war game with praise and encouragement being given for
destruction and extermination.
It was some weeks
later while searching the App Market for an app to allow me to use the tablet
for writing documents like this one, that I stumbled upon an Angry Birds Space
app. It was in fact recommended by the editor as one of the best free aps for
the week. Free! Gosh, I might as well download it and explore this Angry Bird
phenomenon myself. When children are around it is just impossible to get the
ipod out of their hands for longer than half a minute; and during this half
minute, the little fingers are still poking around larger digits that they see
as moving too slowly. Now there was a chance to experience the game at my own
pace without any distraction. It is important to think about things, not only
because of the hidden structure of the games, but also to review what the games
were doing to the player. So Space Birds was downloaded. It only took about thirty
seconds and the games could start. It turned out to be an 'olympic' occasion.
Game one was
clicked, a screen with space-styled things moving slowly across it appeared,
along with the slingshot and the cats in some structure surrounded by a
circles. Aim, fire. The birdie went
spinning around into infinity, completely missing the cat. Oh, I see - gravity.
One has to allow for the distortions to the trajectory caused by planets.
Clever. So with this trial and error learning curve, one kept going until the
cats were exploded. There were many fails and loud sighs, but when one achieved
an outcome, stars appeared to grade the outcome in tune with the triumphant
fanfare. There was no better praise than having three stars pounded down to
complete the set and the level three outcome. Then on to the next game - and so
on. It was all very clever. Each game offered a new challenge to be decyphered,
and this had to be resolved on each of the three different levels that
explored different possibilities and methods. The process intoxicated one, drew
one in and on, so that there was only me and my tablet. The rest of the
universe was excluded as I explored the tricks in this Angry Birds Space. The
designers must have had fun in creating this entertainment for it involved
complex logic and mathematics. Of course, some games and levels were easier
than others. It appeared as though the programming of these games included
variations to allow for immediate success or possible repeated failures until a
certain effort had been made. One became cynical when certain combinations gave
outcomes that varied from time to time. Still, it was all very intriguing. It
also engaged the player in a self-centred delight, so much so that I have to
record that I finally, after much perseverance on some games, achieved level
three on two sets of thirty games - a grand total of 180 games. Now with
repeated failures and the required repetition, this probably meant that I had
made, say, over one thousands attempts, with all the time this required. It was
truly astonishing. One can see how young minds get sucked into timelessness and
indulgence - and why parents ban such
things! I don't ever want to go through this experiment again.
The experience
does raise some questions about our new technologies and architecture. Are they
changing us? Is the nexus between machine programme and man making us more and
more introverted and self-interested? Is it emphasizing our singular self-importance? Is it making our architecure into a game - e.g. how clever can one
be, with the stars appearing metaphorically in ones own eyes when the most
extreme distortions have been successfully interralated to become a building
programme? Do we need to take steps to counter this isolating and
self-important-making technology? I recall students becoming extremely
impressed with their own very sketchy and unresolved work when carried out on
computer drawing programmes that allow many and varied complex images to be
created from the most rudimentary arrangement of lines. 3D vistas galore only
made the maker more than self-satisfied with his/her own searching efforts, so
that what would once have been indecypherable scrible becomes a set of images
that are handed in as a final design - which leaves the student considering
him/herself as being close too genius.
Now this is
student work. If architectural practices manage the results of machine
manipulations in a similar manner - even only with a small percentage of
likeness - one has to be concerned. Here the rough sketch created by the
computer ironically relies on the computational skills of the computer to be
turned into a building in the real world. It is so self-referential that it
carries all of the problems of inbreeding. There is nothing objective left to
test the outcones, especially when the maker, too, is being so impressed with
the outcomes of his/her key pressing. One has to wonder if it is this circumstance
that is giving rise to the extreme personal confidence with such randomly
distorted forms and images that are being transformed into real buildings for
real people with real functional requirements. Do we need Angry Birds to begin
demolition - even demolition of egos - so that true critiques can reveal new
challenges that can touch us rather than startle and amaze or puzzle? Is it the
Hirst effect where exaggerated difference is glorified as genius for all of us
to gaze at in anxious and humiliated, shy wonder, always fearing to ask the
question or express any doubt because of the sheer gaul being displayed? While
this observational query might be somewhat speculative, what is clear in
architectural offices today is the way computers have taken over as the primary
thought process. Before anything is started, computing issues are attended to.
In the documentation, these same matters arise, leaving the finer issues in
design and detailing muddied, if not by technique or process, then by the
necessities of mathematical patterns. How many times does one see the command
'mirror and 'copy' being used to replicate similar situations without the
required adjustments being completed for the new situation? And there are many
other examples too. Can one ever recall time-consuming discussions in the
office concerning which pen or pencil, or set square, should be used for a
drawing? Can any discussions on how an eraser can be used be remembered?
Technology has
transformed architectural practice and architecture - and ourselves. While it
takes time to be able to use new systems unselfconsciously, as the electric
guitar has shown, we do need to ensure that we are not being dragged off into a
brave new world that distorts everything just because it is there. We have to
be better than this and avoid the distracting tricks of new games. Raw human
life and qualities do not alter. Architecture needs to be handled gently and guided carefully with a modest questioning and earnest seeking, and not be
driven by self-centred diversions and pumped-up egos. History is one way in which we can gauge our
efforts. It can help us remember - to recall, not only the possibilities of the
past but those of the future as well; a future, one hopes, that can be assessed
side by side with the past and not be mocked as less - for being so carelessly
and indulgently frivolous. The core of tradition is remembrance. We forget at
our own risk. Consider UR and compare.
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