When midi goes bad

By popular request, here’s an astonishing midi version of Autobahn that’s currently doing the rounds on ringtone websites:

I can only assume the arranger listened to the record once, on an early Bell telephone. Do let me know if you spot any other midi triumphs -- I think this has the makings of a fine album.

This mp3 of the ringtone shows you how it plays on my Mac, using General Midi. If you want to investigate the ringtone yourself and make your own version, there are copies on various sites.

Here’s one version of the original Kraftwerk song:

UPDATE

Following a tip-off from Stuart Childs (see below), here’s a ringtone version of that Beastie Boy’s stomp Intergalactic. Stuart mentions the interesting timing -- I also love the florid midi guitar. The original ringtone is here -- do download for your own experiments.

And here’s the original Beastie Boys number:

Amperes of your nightmares? The Electric Lullaby (1930)

If I’ve been looking a little wan and dusty lately, it’s because I’ve been holed up in the archives, digging out stories for a couple of new projects. I’ll be revealing more about these in a month or two. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this utterly chilling poem that I stumbled on today. It’s from the pages of The Electrical Age, a pioneering gadget magazine, produced from the early 1930s by the Electrical Association for Women.

Published in 1930, Electric Lullaby reveals an exuberant approach to amperes that is rarely matched today (mainly for reasons of health and safety).

I am now hastily preparing a musical version of Electric Lullaby to add to the Spacedog repertoire.

Update 21 January 2010: Electric Lullaby has been the inspiration for my new carillon (automatic bell rig), which we’ll be using along our  theremin and vocals at the Electricity and Ghosts gig, Battersea Power Station, summer 2010 – date tbc. I’ll be previewing this carillon at the Kinetica Art Fair,  London, 5-7 February 2010. Photos coming soon!

Electric Lullaby (1930)

Hushaby! baby. Mother is near,
Don’t you cry, precious, take an ampere,
Cuddle down, sweet, near the dynamo’s brush,
The current will put you to sleep with a rush.

Hushaby! lullaby. (where is that switch?)
Sleep through till morning, you dear little witch.

Hushaby! Nursie has gone for the night,
Mother will see that the contacts are right.
The voltage is measured, the wires are clear,
So shockaby into the land of dreams, dear.

Your crib’s insulated, the current’s direct,
Shut your eyes, baby, and note the effect.

Hushaby! ‘lectridy’, isn’t this great?
Baby drops off to sleep while you wait.

‘Lectrodes clamped on to one foot and one hand;
While the light burns she sleeps.
Oh! Isn’t this grand.
No more long hours of walking the floor,
Kilowatts do what papa did before.

- From Life
First published in The Electrical Age, Volume 1, 1930

Uncanny Valley

Hello! You’ve stumbled on my rough and ready page of videos I’ve been collating, as I’ve been exploring the Uncanny Valley hypothesis -- a hotly debated theory about our very human fear of almost human objects. Do feel free to comment!

What is the uncanny valley?

When we encounter a ventriloquist’s dummy, a human automaton or highly-realistic computer graphic of a person (see below), many of us feel slightly disturbed, afraid or revolted. It’s a curious reaction as on the whole, inanimate objects seem more cuddly and loveable when they seem more human -- we hug ragdolls more than fluffy cushions, for example. Surprisingly, we feel empathy towards objects that look and move like us -- but we feel uneasy around mimics that are too good.

In 1970, cognitive scientist Masahiro Mori noticed this phenomenon and plotted human likeness and familiarity on a graph. He said familiarity plummets when objects become too human-like -- we become very fussy about deviations from the human form when the mimicry is very good. This drop in familiarity could explain why we find such human mimics so eerie. Mori also noted that an extremely good mimic would be indistinguishable from a real human. We’ve never built robots or dummies that are this convincing but there are some fictional examples, for instance the Replicants in Blade Runner.

Thus, Mori’s graph shows a significant dip in familiarity when objects are almost human but not perfectly human-like. He called this dip ‘The Uncanny Valley’. Mori’s graph has two lines. The solid line considers our reaction to static objects, the dotted one concerns objects that are moving. According to Mori, moving objects are all the more uncanny. And zombies (moving corpses) would be the most disturbing objects of all.

Mori's uncanny valley hypothesis

Mori's uncanny valley hypothesis

Mori’s Uncanny Valley graph, drawn in 1970, seemed to be describing a recognisable, subjective experience although -- surprisingly to many people who talk about uncanniness -- his original graph wasn’t backed up by any experimental data. In recent years, various scientists, most notably roboticist David Hanson, have tried to put Mori’s hypothesis to the test, although none have done so conclusively. The existence of an unbridgeable uncanny valley remains an open question.

Video examples of potentially uncanny artefacts

Hanson Robotics
Hanson works with a material called Flubber to create robotic faces that can present a large range of finely-varying human expressions. His videos are particularly interesting because Hanson refutes the existence of an unbridgeable Uncanny Valley.  Hmm…


Computer game and film animation

Heavy Rain


Polar Express

This animated film uses motion capture but fails to capture the motion of the original actor’s eyes:

Old school: knee pals, dolls, automata etc:

These examples are interesting because they feel uncanny, even though their physical realism is low.

A beautiful, eerie automaton from Gustave Vichy, c1880, restored by automatomania.com.  I want one (and have been obsessing over its mechanism):

The Little Girl Giant from Royal de Luxe:

“I’m going to put you back in your box”:

…and Arthur Worsley at work:

My efforts

Clara 2.0 and Uncanny Valerie

I became very interested in uncanniness when I noticed how disturbed people were by my robot doll Clara 2.0, especially when I shut her into her box at the end of the night. In this video, Clara’s the doll holding the card, Valerie is the doll with the long sparkly dress. I think Valerie is too sweet to earn the title ‘uncanny’ -- but I’m working on that…

…Clara 2.0 playing Get Carter:

The badgermingo

The badgermingo - one of Prof. Elemental's animal experiments

The badgermingo - one of Prof. Elemental's animal experiments

The badgermingo is one of many fine creations from gentleman rapper Professor Elemental, highlight of the Marlborough’s recent Steampunk Hidden Cabaret. We were there, performing with vocals, theremin and robotic bells at the end of the night. Elemental’s set was packed with brilliant songs about animal experiments, machines and tea. This grainy image scarcely does justice to his marvellous creature, which the audience were fortunate enough to glimpse on the night. Judging by the lyrics to Animal Magic, the badgermingo is no cryptozoological wonder but the result of one of the Professor’s own extreme taxidermy experiments.

Here’s another number:


It’s snowing!

Kensworth Quarry, Beds, captured on a snowy morning by Jenny Angliss

Kensworth Quarry, Beds, captured on a snowy morning by Jenny Angliss

The UK this week has been transformed into a winter wonderland.

On Monday, Colin and I found ourselves stranded in Bedfordshire, after a thick blanket of snow descended overnight. We decided to tough it out -- Colin rounded up all the veggies in the kitchen and made a winter soup. I went sledging with my nephew and niece who’d just heard their school was closed for the day (hooray!).  Here’s my favourite video of unscheduled snowy fun:

Churchill goes Club Class – and the world’s most historic strips of Sellotape?

Testing Churchill's pressure chamber

Testing Churchill's pressure chamber

This photographic gem is straight from the archives of Royal Aircraft Establishment, Farnborough. I understand it’s a pressure chamber, designed to take the strain off Winston Churchill when he was jet setting around the world. I think it dates from the mid-1940s. The aeroplane he travelled in didn’t have a pressure cabin – but lying in this chamber, Churchill could breathe a steady supply of air (and maybe smoke a cigar or two).

Hitler had something similar, apparently. Chambers like these were a must for any VIP traveller as they also offered extra security in an attack. I don’t know if there’s any evidence of Churchill using this contraption. His aircraft was once in danger but never came under serious attack.

Cold War – Hot Science

I unearthed this wonderful image when I was digging through the archives for ‘Cold War Hot Science’, an exhibition  I put together with Tim Hunkin, Robert Bud and Science Museum staff, early 2001. The exhibition marked the launch of a book by the same name. Among the many other extraordinary and alarming delights in the archive was a bomb switch for the Vulcan bomber (the aircraft designed to deliver our nuclear bombs, before we had intercontinental ballistic missiles) and some old laboratory glassware, used by Porton Down scientists to cook up Britain’s stock of the deadly Marburg Virus. Marburg is a Category 4 disease – like Ebola and Lassa Fever, it’s deadly, incurable and highly contagious.

Reactor Vessel used by Porton Down scientists to cook up Marburg virus and other Category 4 diseases

Reactor Vessel used by Porton Down scientists to cook up Marburg virus and other Category 4 diseases

Putting together the exhibition, I also remember encountering what might be the world’s most historic pieces of Sellotape. They were holding together the original ‘drop models’ (small, balsa wood aeroplanes) that were used by engineers to figure out the best design for Concorde.

Working around 1962, long before the era of Computer Aided Design (CAD), engineers dropped these models, just like paper aeroplanes, from the top of a ladder or from helicopters. They watched them gliding to the ground as they were looking for an aeroplane shape that wouldn’t roll over dangerously, as it approached the runway, despite being contoured to travel smoothly through the sound barrier. After extensive drop model tests, Farborough engineers opted to give Concorde its famous ‘ogive’ (curvy, triangular) wing shape.

When Science Museum conservators prepared these drop models for public display, they took great pains to conserve the fragile remains of Sellotape that engineers had stuck to the models, all those years ago.

We juxtaposed artefacts from the labs with press cuttings about Farnboough workers, gleaned the local papers. Somehow, these very British local newspaper cuttings made the researcher’s undercover defence work seem all the more extraordinary.

Newspaper clipping: RAE are tops in drama

Newspaper clipping: RAE are tops in drama

My favourite Farnborough clipping

My favourite Farnborough clipping