Created by Thomas J. Lodato, November 2008

Email: thomas.lodato@gmail.com

{click to contact}

Created in Flash, ActionScript 3 and HTML/CSS

Technical Objectives:

(1) Designed an interactive map that depicts uncommon or unfamiliar information about a space, that is, information about a space that was not readily represented on most maps of the same space.

(2) Visually represented the space and visually displayed at least 3 object types within that space, including a macro view of the space and a detail view of at least 1 of the object types.

(3) Developed skill in the selection, organization, and use of spatial information.

(4) Applied skills in typography and image selection and construction.

(5) Developed and applied a solid understanding of the interactive capabilities of Flash.

Creative Objectives:

(1) Reconsidered the relationship of static images of the city and body with regards to mapping and gathering data, especially focused on temporal aspects.

(2) Questioned the methods and approaches in which the city and the body were visualized.

(3) Explored the connection between narratives and spaces.

(4) Sonically represented an aspect of the space.

(5) Developed a method of granting the audience cinematic authorship.

Context:

This project approached two main aspects of maps and mapping:

(1) Mapping as a physical act.

(2) Maps as a form of narrative.

The first aspect grew from a discussion on objectivity. In "Iconoclash", Bruno Latour brings up acheiropoieta. These are religious icons that have supposed miraculous conceptions, i.e. exist without having been made. Latour embeds this idea within a discussion of how scientific, artistic, and religious images are made, destroyed, and accrue power. In a selection from "Objectivity", Daston and Galison discuss the pursuit of objective representation, and its shifting direction. Objectivity, they claim, is a construct of our view of scientific pursuits rather being a stand-alone concept. Both of these readings directly and indirectly reflect on the idea that human creation taints an artifact as subjective. In art, this is desired; in other fields, this is not.

The discussion of mapping, on the other hand, did not treat human involvement in the same way. While all maps are persuasive and ideological in some regard, maps are generally seen as instructional, informative, and un-opinionated. At the core of the act of marking a space is a human interpretation by way of taxonomy and categorization, such as that given by Kevin Lynch in "Image of the City". Lynch's approach may create a system and a procedure, but it does not supplant the physical and situated act of gathering spatial data. The relevance of a map, by way of Lynch, stems from its almost immaculate conception and objectiveness--a map may be created, but the world being mapped exists sui generis. It was this tension between views of human involvement and representation that lead to the initial formulation of my project.

The second point--maps as narrative--can be initially attributed to experiencing Charles Joseph Minard's visualization of Napoleon's march to and from Moscow. A triumph of information mapping, it displays how Napoleon's forces dwindled across the journey. In a similar manner, Ben Fry's work (specifically his genome visualization called "isometricblocks") treats information and narrative as intertwined.

Context, Continued:

In Critical Visualization from "Design and the Elastic Mind", Peter Hall quotes Fry as saying while many people approach information with the attitude "'I have a whole bunch of information and data--what do I do with it?' ...I'm more interested in getting people to think about what kind of story they want to tell, ... and working backwards from that, back to the data." While a rather haphazard view of science, Fry's view appropriately links data and narrative for more artistic approaches to mapping.

Some data sets (Minard's and Fry's projects as examples) are inherently spatial; others are not. Most intriguing is how spatially-oriented data can be re-spatialized. For Minard, the dwindling number of soldiers are shown as a rapidly-emaciating line across a page. For Fry, the genome becomes a series of 2D and 3D visualizations that morph from one view to the next. In both works the data, while collected from a space, is presented in a new manner to tell the appropriate story. For Minard, Napoleon's initial hubris and eventual humbling; for Fry, the complexity of the genome and the density of our encoded existence.

The narrative of map or information visualization is not solely internal. Just as data and maps may or may not have a diegetic narrative, so to can non-diegetic narratives spring from the information. Again, Fry's work provides an example. While the story of the genome is held within the bounds of the computer screen, the story of the genome visualization bleeds into the world. Lev Manovich explains. In "Interaction as Aesthetic Event", Manovich claims certain interfaces are elevated to being tantamount (if not above) the use of that interface due to its aestheticization. The sleek transitions and visual appeal of Fry's "isometricblocks" allows the user to generate a story of and from the internal data simply through navigating the views and juxtaposing images. Hence, Manovich presents interaction as a story. (It should be noted that another narrative of exists around Fry's work. Some contest the visualization as not technical enough, and so inappropriate. This narrative is not the desired outcome of my project.)

The combination of these ideas lead to the development of CityBody.

Concept and Process:

From the technical constraints and academic context, CityBody was approached with two specific goals.

(1) It should question the relationship between the situated act of mapping and the non-situatedness of a map.

(2) It should have exploratory, rather than intuitive, interaction.

As previously discussed, a map exists as a distinct artifact. Many times seen as objective, specific ideologies, judgments, narratives, and values inhere in it (as in all artifacts) though in a different way. To begin, I revisited the premise of Laura Kurgan's "Million Dollar Blocks". Instead of asking "Where do crimes occur?", Kurgan asked "Where do criminals reside?" Kurgan's approach formed the initial stages of my design.

The question that most maps seek to answer is "How can I correlate my body to a space?" This done by showing potentially inhabited routes, locations, and areas. I began by inverting that premise, asking "How can I correlate a space to my body?" In this, I approached the map in a topological way, i.e. looking for homeomorphic (read structural) similarities. Comparing the properties of one to the other, I searched for connections between the body and the city in the literal and figurative sense. Tangentially, I looked at natural structures (e.g. leaves, root systems, river deltas) to find a tertiary analog for this comparison (I abandoned this idea in the end). The obvious one-to-one mirroring of the structure of the ribcage and roadways formed the literal connection. The figurative similarities--the eventual features to be mapped--were less apparent at first.

I began by choosing words (mainly homophones) that were applicable to both spaces. (I typically begin projects by picking words and meditating on their meaning.) The list included "crack", "root/route", "block(age)", "sight/site", and "vein/vane/vain". I choose the last of these to explore more deeply. In considering the idea of vanity, I found surprising ways (at least because of their familiarity) that we mark, mend, and maintain a cityscape and a body. The methods of marking the skin for surgery and the city for repair are eerily similar in their visual language; the tactics to repair and maintain coincide in a similar fashion. Mending, whether for functionality or aesthetics, formed the figurative parallel.

The concept of the map took shape. I sought to compare the structure of the ribs and roads, and the methods of keeping both functional.

Concept and Process, Continued:

In brainstorming, a fact was brought to light: when imaging the body (e.g. x-rays) and the city (e.g. maps and satellite photography), the images are static and silent. This seemed completely counter to their nature. As a result I sought to somehow incorporate moving images and sound to capture their dynamism. Stepping on previous film work, I approached the film making process from Laura U. Marks' concept of haptic cinema--that is, an embodied viewing experience. The films are patterned on the visual texture of an x-ray image and the sonic texture of the body (e.g. pulse, respiration, digestion), though the images and sounds originated from the city (save the images of the body).

In setting out to make the films I developed three categories of the map:

(1) Broken

(2) Being fixed

(3) Fixed

These categories relate to the external markings as well. The similarity in their distinction is to purposely muddle the audience's expectation. In this fashion, the map forces one to explore.

As for the interaction, I wanted to make it both an event and non-event. As Manovich points out about a cellphone, the glow of the keys is possibly more seductive, and so more desirable, than the result of pressing those keys (unless the result is the purpose). Alternatively, most maps seek to make their use obvious, ostensibly removing exploration from the act of reading a map. I wanted to link these ideas by making exploration part of the interaction event, while making the interface itself uneventful and un-seductive. I opted to have no text on the map to force the user to learn how to read the map in a similar sense to the way one learns to read an x-ray. The descriptiveness of reading an x-ray, as an analog, far exceeds any explanation of the image, although the initial worth is not readily apparent (that is, there is a steep learning curve). When someone knows what to look for, the features are obvious.

The subtleness of the mouse over effects harken to this intention, as well as the screws, plates, and clasps within the x-ray image. On the other end, the fact the opening page runs on its own, alienates the user and makes the initialization non-intuitive; this is echoed in the interior views of the films. While this seems to subvert the purpose of an interactive map (granted there are aspects of creative fallacy here), the user is either compelled out of eagerness, boredom, or prior instruction to advance the map through a click. Without this, nothing is gained from the piece. The motivation pushes the experience forward, adding layers of understanding and authorship driven by the user. There are no instructions--this interactive process is intended to be the same as the exploratory one.

Final Design:

The final design consists of four parts:

(1) Introduction page:

This page is meant to bring some context to the subsequent map. Along with the exterior map, the introduction provides a barrier between the in-depth information and the starting point. This plays into my idea about exploration as part of the interaction. The user has to dig through information in levels to uncover the content of the map.

(2) Exterior map:

The exterior map has two purposes. First, it is a barrier, as explained before. Second, it harkens to the lack of viewer authorship granted by a film. No matter where one clicks on the map, the same interior map is revealed. The linearity of sequence and lack of deviating paths is uninteresting compared to the selection process of the interior map.

(3) Interior map:

This, as well as the exterior map, correspond directly the section of Atlanta being mapped. Unlike the exterior map though, the user can visit specific places (i.e. move to the unique detailed views).

(4) Detailed view:

The detailed view shows one of the three categories being mapped. From each film, the user must click to drive the experience forward.

To view the final design, {click here}.

Captions:

In descending order, from left to right by row.

(1) Early experiment for introduction page (not used).

(2.a) Region of Atlanta mapped.

(2.b) X-ray used for interior view.

(3.a) Aerial view of Atlanta.

(3.b) Close up photograph of a chard leaf (from initial stages of design process).

(4.a) Notes from word generation stage.

(4.b) Brainstorming session on "vane/vain/vein".

(5.a) Drawing of proposed map on a leaf (not used).

(5.b) Brainstorming session on "vanity".

(6) Raw footage from initial and final mapping.

(7) Initial iteration of map (only includes three films, side panels were static, and no introduction page).

(8) Screen shot of finalized film (raw footage is on the left; film still on the right).

(9.a) Final interior map.

(9.b) Raw footage of a "fixed" film.

(9.c) Raw footage of a "being fixed" film.

(9.d) Raw footage of a "broken" film.

(10) Triptych of final exterior map.

(11.a) Final still of a "being fixed" film.

(11.b) Final still of a "fixed" film.

(11.c) Final still of a "broken" film.

Text and Work Citations:

Daston, Lorraine and Galison, Peter. "Objectivity" Zone Books, 2007.

Fry, Ben. "isometricblocks" {website}.

Hall, Peter. Critical Visualization from "Design and the Elastic Mind". The Museum of Modern Art, 2008.

Kurgan, Laura. "Million Dollar Blocks" {website}.

Latour, Bruno. "What is Iconoclash? Or Is There a World Beyond Image Wars?" {website}.

Lynch, Kevin. "The Image of the City" MIT Press, 1960.

Manovich, Lev. “Interaction as Aesthetic Event” {website}.

Marks, Laura U. "The Skin of the Film" Duke University Press, 2000.

Minard, Charles Joseph. {website (containing image)}.

Image Citations:

Chard Veins. {website}.

Map of Atlanta. {website}.

Aerial view of Atlanta. {website}.

"Preparation for a Facelift" Image by Sean Justice/Corbis. {website}.

Pothole. {website}.