回す

Rotation

回す

In this installation piece, viewers rotate a device to play a video. This work carefully reexamines and deeply probes the ubiquitous and instinctual action of rotating things, offering new insights into these everyday interactions. Not only does this video feels good, but an accurate feedback you get from the device provide comfortable and intuitive interaction.

Discussion / Hiroyuki Takahashi (Indipendent Curator)

In all our daily lives, we can find countless “rotating” movements and actions, like when we get water from a tap, switch on a gas stove, or tighten a hexagonal wrench. Capsule toy vending machines have a distinctive way of being rotated and old telephones also had rotary dials. Each of these various “devices for rotating” has its own unique “rotating sensation.” The artists say that initially their interest was focused on the degree to which this “rotating sensation” could be recreated digitally. After all, we obtain a wide range of information from senses other than sight and hearing, in particular from the sense of touch. Our sense of touch has a tremendous precision capable of feeling such things as tiny scratches on top of a desk, or even the hair cuticle only a few microns in size. That is what makes it so difficult to reproduce digitally. Besides, the sense of touch is actually a variety of sensations in itself. When probing for “hardness,” we employ a pushing motion to apply pressure, and when probing for “texture,” we may use a stroking motion on the surface of an object. When we want to feel the “weight” of something, we may hold it in the palm of our hand. When seeking to ascertain “shape and edges,” we trace the outline of the object with our fingers.

 

What this work seeks to achieve is to bring to the attention of viewers the rich variety of “rotations” that is inherent in our lives and to then explain the internal structure of these rotating operations in images. What is more, the images are not rendered in advance, but are drawn in real-time through physical calculation. Even with what is ultimately the same circular movement, there are various different mechanisms that can be used. These include gears and cogwheels as used in watches and automobiles, wind-up mechanisms in toys, link and ratchet mechanisms, and even very specific and specialized mechanisms such as the eccentric disc cam used in hair clippers. Although these discoveries and inventions made throughout the long course of human history have each been ground-breaking in their own way, we have few opportunities to see or appreciate their internal structures. This work explains these hidden mechanisms in a way even a child can understand.

 

After first making viewers think about the diversity of “rotating” devices and their complex internal structures, this work then dives headlong into a fun and game-like world of interactivity. As the controller, viewers can get a real sense of just how useful “rotating” devices really are.

 

One of the characteristics of this work is its universality. Although artistic works can sometimes require an understanding of history or specialist knowledge to fully appreciate them, this work can be enjoyed by people of all ages, genders and nationalities. This is precisely because “rotating” is something that we all do in our daily lives. It is of course also important to consider persons with disabilities.

 

If, for example, there is something the height and size of a tree stump, people will naturally want to sit on it. This inherent nature of an object to induce certain actions is what is called “affordance” in the world of cognitive science and design. What makes affordance such a powerful property is that it is not defined by social conventions or culture. For example, the reason why a red traffic light means “stop,” is due to social convention. It would not be beyond the realms of possibility to find a society where a red light does not mean “stop.” Affordance, however, stems from the mutual relationships between people and objects, so it is unrelated to social convention. It is something akin to our desire to pop bubble wrap when we see it, or our need to fill in gaps and level off things that stick out, like in a game of Tetris, and it is probably human nature shared by everyone.

 

Take small children, for example. There is a stage in their life when they spend all their time single-mindedly fitting things together neatly and precisely. It becomes almost like an obsession and that is all they do. (The educator Maria Montessori referred to this as a “sensitive period.”) This is probably part of a child’s developmental process, and they are exploring how they, themselves, and their bodies are linked to objects in the external world around them and what possibilities the world holds. The learning process of robots and AI is somewhat similar. A child’s world is one of repeated exploration. To start to play means to start to explore, and the end of play (or becoming bored) signifies the end of exploration.

 

Finally, a word about onomatopoeia. In the process of experimenting with this work, the artist says that onomatopoeic words and phrases (in Japanese) were often used. Many onomatopoeic words in Japanese  can be used to express or evoke the feeling of “rotating” and these can be transliterated into English words like “click,” “squeeze,” “tumble,” “squish,” “creak,” “glide,” and “slip.”[TH1]  To put it another way, you could say that standard everyday Japanese vocabulary is too limited to express the diversity of rotating motions and sensations. Onomatopoeias are special words that convey sensory perceptions, but it is difficult to do this through ordinary descriptive words. This work makes use of images, animation, and interaction in a bold attempt to open up a world that can only be expressed through onomatopoeias.