Monday, January 31, 2011

Seth Godin's "Brainwashed"


Linked is Seth Godin's "Brainwashed", an essay on creativity and how we've been conditioned to restrict it.

Acknowledge the Lizard


Godin argues that the "lizard brain - the prehistoric brainstem that all of us must contend with" is a key figure in the restriction of our creativity.  It's timid, afraid of criticism, and as a result resists our artistic instincts.  It was complicit in our brainwashing as youth.  And so, in order to effectively ignore it and embrace our creative spirit, we must first acknowledge its existence and understand its pattern of behavior.  Only then can we overcome it.

Ship


The ability to finish things is an incredibly important one to have.  Those who create but don't ship are merely wasting time.  Of course, people value those who can get work done reliably.  Shipping can often be difficult in part because of the lizard brain - that prehistoric philistine inside us.  Shipping is scary; it encourages criticism and opens the door for failure.  But only by shipping can we share with the world our art and abilities.


Both of the above points are, I agree, crucial to effectively embracing our artistic abilities.  This blog is itself an example of shipping; by publishing our thoughts and opinions on the internet, we are shipping our ideas and styles to the world.  By creating creative content and publishing it here, we are in one stroke acknowledging and ignoring the lizard brain inside us.  Both exercises are important for growing as students and artists, in that they encourage taking a chance; they encourage having the courage to step outside the lines and try new things.  And that, after all, is how great ideas are born.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Songwriting Assignment

Our songs.


Saturday, January 29, 2011

Exploration of a Cover Song

REM's "It's The End Of The World"



Covered by Great Big Sea:







I really like both versions of this song.  I happened to hear Great Big Sea's version first, and only later became aware that REM wrote the original.

The obvious difference between the two is the speed.  Great Big Sea sings the song very fast, making it hard to understand exactly what they're saying.  But, it also increases the intensity of the song, by making it seem more frantic and unorganized.  I had become used to this by the time I heard the original by REM, so the original by contrast seemed slow and plodding.  I felt a song about the end of the world should be fast and frantic, because that's what I assume the end of the world will be like; lots of tension, with the release coming only at the end.  The Great Big Sea version provides this, while the original by REM does not.

However, the original has a sense of organization that Great Big Sea's doesn't have.  It's sung slow enough to understand, and never feels like it's going out of control.  The timbre is, as a result, different between the two versions.  Great Big Sea's version is noisy and hectic; it sounds "fuller" than the original, which has an emptier feeling.

If I had to pick one as my preferred version, I'd have to go with Great Big Sea's, simply because it was the one I had heard first.  I became used to it, so the original felt "off" to me.  However, they're both great songs, and I could listen to either if I had to.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Soundscape

Created for MDIA 203; the emotion is COMFORTABLE



Enjoy.

Monday, January 17, 2011

"14 Ways to get Breakthrough Ideas"

http://changethis.com/

The above is a link to the website featuring Mitch Ditkoff's "14 Ways to get Breakthrough Ideas".  It outlines 14 different techniques of stirring the creative pot in order to gather new ideas.  Most are fairly self-explanatory creative exercises, but they are explained in-depth and in detail, and are great considerations for when you've hit a mental roadblock.  Let's take a closer look at three of the techniques.

#8 - Take a break


It is, in fact, possible to over-think things.  Especially when working on something you're passionate about, dwelling over something obsessively can create frustration and curb creativity.  That's why taking a break can be so fantastic for the creative process.  It's one of my favorite techniques, and I was glad to see Ditkoff mention it.  Walking away from a problem, instead of being an admission of defeat, can spark new life in an idea and resurrect passion for it.  I think it's a great idea, and one that goes unused far too often.
I find that distracting myself from a project for a few hours can give me a new appreciation for it.  Especially when working on something visual, I'll find myself staring at it for too long and getting content with unacceptable flaws.  It's only when I leave and return later that I see these flaws and correct them.  Of course you have to be critical with yourself, but it's hard to continuously re-evaluate a piece that you've been working on for a long time, and taking breaks is the perfect solution.

#9 - Notice and challenge existing patterns and trends

Being ahead of the competition is a great way to predict trends and innovate first.  Ditkoff mentions several professions where pattern recognition is paramount:  stock brokers, meteorologists, air traffic controllers, ect.  Being able to detect and interpret patterns, Ditkoff argues, is the key to their success.  I think being able to predict trends in the market is one of the most important skills for anyone looking to make a splash to have.  Sometimes getting a good idea into the market first is just as important as getting the idea in the first place; you never know who else is thinking the same thing you are.  In a competitive industry, speed is certainly important.
I'm currently working on a creative project unrelated to school.  It's something I enjoy doing, and something I hope could one day make me some money, but if it's going to go anywhere it has to be relevant.  Technology-related endeavors are a tricky thing; they can be difficult to make, but must also be made quickly in order to stay up to date.  Technology advances at an incredibly rapid pace, and you wouldn't want to be caught releasing a Playstation 3 game when the Playstation 4 is already out.  By predicting trends in the industry, one can gauge where the market is headed and be better prepared when developing one's product.

#10 - Hang out with diverse groups of people


Ditkoff's tenth suggestion is one I myself ignore far too often.  Hanging out with the same people over and over, while comfortable, doesn't do much to expand your creative horizons.  Meeting and interacting with new people can bring new experiences and fresh ideas to a person who would otherwise never have them.  Ditkoff mentions how engineers at Sony were once required to spend at least 25% of work time interacting with people "outside the walls of their industry".  This would give them the experience and new interactions necessary to expand their pool of influence, thus giving them (and by extension Sony) an edge over the competition.
I think it's a valid technique, but it's something I don't often do.  Everyone's method(s) of getting new ideas is different, and rarely do I come across my best through interactions with strangers.  Much of my creativity is aided by interesting conversation and interaction, yes, but it's mostly through friends and established peers.  I'm just not as comfortable discussing ideas and the creative process with someone I don't know at all.  Perhaps I'll work on this one and see what it can do for me.

Prompt for #9 - What trends in the marketplace most intrigues you?  In what ways might these trends shift in the coming years - and how might your most inspired idea be in sync with this imagined shift?


The extracurricular project I'm currently working on is a technology-dependent investment.  I need to be able to analyze the mobile phone / tablet market and how it's evolving if I want to really succeed in future-proofing my project.  The trend towards larger screens and higher-resolutions is interesting; where once the race was to smallest phone, we seem to now be moving in the opposite direction.  Users want a mobile device with a large, clear screen for doing everyday tasks, but something small enough to fit in a pocket or bookbag, so hardware manufacturers are creating screens with much higher resolutions; that is, screens that are small but also very pixel-dense.  This allows for both mobility and clarity.  Unfortunately, there aren't really industry-wide standards for screen resolution, so there are lots of different configurations on the market.  This means software developers must create multiple versions of one application if they want it to look proper on all available hardware.
Apple's mobile devices alone span three resolutions; the old iPhones and iPods, the newer iPhones/iPods with retina displays, and the iPad all have different resolutions.  While one version of an app could theoretically run on all three devices, it wouldn't look as crisp or polished on the higher-resolution screens.
For me, this means creating content that's easily modifiable.  I need to be able to quickly and effectively change up the resolution of a project , which means I need to keep things simple.  Of course, simple is good anyways, but the uneven hardware landscape of today practically necessitates it.  Creating multiple versions of a superfluously confusing application would be an incredible headache.

Monday, January 10, 2011

The Creative Process

Self-observation isn't an easy thing to do.  To examine my own creative process would require scanning my subconscious, something which seems a bit like an impossibility.  I would suppose my creativity emerges from my observations; things I see that strike me as interesting, something I heard that left an impression, a conversation that made me laugh.  From these scattered observations of real life my subconscious assembles my ideas, like little frankensteins of thought.

I enjoy imagining things as they weren't intended.  What would happen if that melody were inverted?  Could there be a happy-ending movie wherein the protagonist is defeated?  What about a game whose objective was not to win, but to lose as spectacularly as possible?  I want to expect the unexpected; I want to be surprised and to surprise others.  I enjoy media that breaks the mold, and so it's no surprise that my main influences are those who, I feel, try things a little differently.


Shigeru Miyamoto 



The Legend of Zelda

Anyone who loves video games will have Miyamoto on their list of influences.  Creator of Mario, Zelda, and many other classic franchises, he embodies the spirit of trying things differently.  Miyamoto is a master of employing active learning into his games.

For an example of didactic learning in games, you need to look no further than any modern high-budget role playing game.  There will most assuredly be a lengthy and tedious tutorial, along with a few hours or so of pushover enemies and little variety.  Only after you have proved beyond all worldly doubt that you know how to play will you be granted access to the interesting bits.  You are spoon-fed the objectives and controls, smothered with tips and hints until there remains not a trace of surprise or adventure.  What was intended as an epic, twisting, interactive drama has been reduced to a simple reflex exercise.  Push "A" a couple times at the right moment and win!  That is the didactic learning approach.

Contrast this with the active learning approach:  here's you, here's the world, figure it out.




This is the beginning of the original Legend of Zelda.  There is no tutorial.  No hand-holding.  There is only "It's dangerous to go alone!  Take this."  Thus you are given your sword and sent on your way.  Multiple dungeons stretch out in every direction.  With hidden items to seize, hidden treasure to hoard, and big 'ol bosses to battle, it's a classic adventure game, only - unlike the scripted, big-budget, modern, didactic versions - it's your adventure.  No one is telling you where to go or what to do.  How you approach and ultimately defeat the bad guy is your decision.  Active learning at it's finest.  Very fun.

Pikmin

A more recent example of Miyamoto's genius, Pikmin is by many accounts a masterpiece.  It remains one of my all-time favorite games, for many reasons.  One of them is the subconscious struggle you will feel while playing it.

Pikmin is about Captain Olimar, a spaceman whose ship crashes on a strange planet (a planet one could reasonably assume is Earth, or close to it).  Stranded and alone, Captain Olimar enlists the help of the native Pikmin creatures to help find the scattered pieces of his ship and return home.  Pikmin are tiny, cute, and immeasurably helpful, swarming enemies and lifting heavy objects for Olimar.  Therein lies the conscious objective: use Pikmin to find the pieces of your ship and return home.






See, you need Pikmin to win.  To lift the heavy ship pieces and defeat the towering enemies, Pikmin are absolutely essential.  The player is consciously aware of their importance.  

However, over time, the player will find himself developing a strange fondness for these little creatures.  You cannot help but fall in love with their unwavering willingness to help, their tenacity, the little squeaks they occasionally make, their camaraderie - it's all positively heartwarming.  One can see, then, where the problem arises.  The subconscious desire to protect your Pikmin comes in direct conflict with the conscious need to find your ship and go home.  The motherly instinct versus the survival instinct.

It's a brilliant design, precisely because of this struggle.  It is never explicitly stated that Pikmin cannot or should not be killed; indeed, they are a renewable resource, sprouting from the ground like flowers all around you.  But that doesn't matter.  They fight with you, they grow with you - certainly you can't just let them die for you.  It's an entirely subconscious battle; the game doesn't care about their lives, but the player most certainly does.


Tim Reynolds


Though games are clearly my primary area of interest, my creative influences inhabit a wide range of professions.  Take Tim Reynolds, guitarist.  He can usually be found playing with Dave Matthews, another of my favorites - though his technical skill far outclasses Matthews (and most others, really).  Tim Reynolds, like most of my creative idols, does things his way.  My favorite of his pieces are played with an acoustic guitar, amplified though effects pedals for a spectacular sound.  




The tension and subsequent release at the beginning of the above song is an excellent example of Reynolds using sound to manipulate emotion.  The first minute is a mildly incoherent, heavily distorted section; the spacey sound and unexpected effects raise the tension of the piece.  As Reynolds slows the pace and the sound drifts into silence, the audience is left expecting more.  What comes next?

As it turns out, a skillful acoustic verse comes next.  The contrast between the odd-sounding beginning and the clear, acoustic verse creates the tension and, then, the release.  What began as an interesting, pedal-driven soundscape evolves into a distinct and crisp, fully formed song.  Thus, what would have been an impressive enough song without the beginning is further enhanced by it's inclusion.  Such is the power of tension and release.