project two: going mobile...

Because my genre of interface has everything to do with movement and location, I decided to try to create my taxonomy as a mobile. To do this I first had to tightly structure my categorization and items. In order to fully wrap my head around that, I created this concept map (my very first solo one!)



My final definition of navigation interfaces is: Objects, systems or devices which are used in the art or science of plotting, ascertaining, or directing a course of movement or action; which can be used to understand relationships of geographic concepts and qualities.

The items are categorized into Maps (further categorized into maps that are to geographic scale, and those that are not—the difference between a folded city map and a subway map in which all the routes are shown to express relationships rather than precise distance) and Devices (further categorized into mechanical devices and digital or electronic devices). You can use maps alone to plan trips or routes, navigate or locate, or to create connections and note relationships. Devices, however, must be used in conjunction with maps. My third category is the anomaly: the GPS device, which is both a device used for navigation and location which contains its own maps.

I have also indicated the different ways this information can be further explored or described: by portability, ease of use, tangibility (of materials and inner workings), and how updatable it is (paper maps are often out of date upon creation and can't be updated, while GPS devices are part of a system which is infinitely updatable.)

project two: taxonomy tango...

After much sweat, thought, research and categorizing, I carved out a beginning taxonomy for my genre of interface. In an attempt to give said taxonomy a visual form, I created the following artifacts:





We were asked to give our taxonomy some kind of visual form, and were asked to not just create a list, meaning that the information should spatially show relationships, values, gradients, etc. Although I attempted to spatially relate my information in a map, it was a failed experiment, and was dubbed "still a list". After our class crit, Denise asked us to all take another stab at this step, and refine our taxonomies and give them more interesting visual form.

From feedback I received at the crit, I decided to focus my explorations on geographic navigation (removing some of the less interesting content). I also decided I wanted to try to push myself out of my comfort zone and create a visualization of my taxonomy in an analog and 3D way.

project two: an interface for interfaces...

Our second project is now fully completed, so it's time for a recap.

First, the directive given by Denise:

Project 2
Design an Interface for Interfaces

1. Select a genre of (designed) interface.
2. Parse the genre into a taxonomy.
3. Represent the taxonomy of the genre in some form.
4. Design an interface for accessing the taxonomy.
   
5. The outcome should foreground a point of view or commentary on the genre.

We took some time to decide on the genre of interface we wanted to work with, had a discussion about some of the different options, and began to further define interface (the definition is still in a pretty constant state of flux.) I decided to work with Navigation Interfaces (think GPS, online maps, atlases, navigation systems on websites).

Then we did another round of super-free-word-association-funtime on iChat. I created two compositions with the results from the prompts about my genre in an attempt to organize my thoughts.





From here we went off to define, parse, categorize and make sense of our genre of interfaces in the attempt of making a taxonomy.

rapid prototyping: aka whaaaaa?

A few weeks ago, as an exercise (given as a way to loosen us up, I believe) Denise took us through some free-word-association activities via iChat, which were great fun. We all sat at our computers in studio, all 12 of us crammed into one tiny chat room, all silently digitally hollering out answers at once. Paired with the real-time, real-life giggles and off-hand comments, it was a pretty surreal (but exciting) experience. The trigger questions to begin the word-association had to do with different genres of interface we had identified as a group at the beginning of class. For instance, "What if search tools....", and "What if video games.....?"After the word-association-mega-session was over, we each looked back over the iChat transcript and chose one of the responses to pair with our chosen genre.

I chose video games, and decided to focus on "What if video games held a grudge?"

Using this phrase as a prompt, we were asked to rapid prototype using several bags of junk we'd all brought in from home, which included: cardboard, paper scraps, glue sticks, 2 glue guns, dowel rods, pieces of wood, string, yarn, tape, bits and bobs, 2 bright pink NCSU mittens, a discarded calendar, broken toys and 3 tubes of glitter. We were given just 30 minutes to create something in response to our focus question. Here is my result:



We then took our prototypes into the auditorium next door, plopped them down on the first row of desks and held a critique. Denise pronounced us all "Designers" who were very much attempting to solve problems, and then asked us to repeat the exercise using the same prompt. However, this time, she wanted us to think about our response in a less literal way, and to really experiment with the materials at hand. My second attempt is far too sad and dismal to share even here, so I will spare you the visual. Suffice to say, I got caught up in playing with the paper hole punch and some cardboard, instead of pushing myself to do something interesting.

After a second critique, Denise asked us to go home and spend just an hour or so on a final response to our prompt, using any materials we liked. I created two versions:



This first attempt was created with a small box containing some plastic bits which I then wrapped with brightly colored ribbon, green yarn, and some brown cord. The yarn and cord were also knotted around the shape in some different patterns. My hope was to give the feeling of holding something or witholding something tightly. You could shake the shape, and tell that something was inside, but you just couldn't get to it.

The second object I made was certainly the most successful of the bunch:




In this final attempt, I used shrinkable plastic to create a more organic and alien feeling ball of witholding and holding back. I cut a small circle from the shrinkable plastic, and placed a bead on it and then melted/shrunk it in my toaster oven. I repeated that process several times with increasingly larger circles of plastic, always laying the plastic on the oven tray, and placing the previous ball on top of it. I was not able to fully control the process—the plastic flies up in this weird and alien way as it melts and shrinks, and it would grab hold of the ball atop it in different ways every time. Once the plastic had shrunk to a certain point, I would remove it, and press the edges around the ball until they cooled slightly, and repeat the process over again.

The result is this slick, bright white, shiny plastic ball that you want to just pull open, but you can't. Very odd and slightly disturbing even, which I think is an interesting response to the question "What if video games held a grudge?" No?

critiquing an experience....

First off, here are my teeth:



I recently went to a brand new dentist and was very cognizant of the way the experience was designed for me. This dentist had opened his office in a beautiful brand-new building. A fountain greeted me in the vestibule to the suite, and just beyond it a beautiful waiting room. After filling out the mounds of paperwork, I relaxed on a beautiful leather couch and watched the big flat-screen TV. After my name was called by the hygenist, I made my way to a sparkling and nicely decorated examination room—complete with plush examination chair which had a flat-screen TV attached to it. I was handed a remote and told to choose what I wanted to watch. Relaxing classical music played softly over the sound system throughout the office, and I was even handed large pink safety glasses to protect my eyes during the examination. The office was equipped with all the latest technology: the hygenist examined my teeth and then entered all the information into a computer screen right behind the examination chair.

These all seem like the components for a wonderful experience! Nice extra touches to make me feel special and relaxed. I sat back and wondered how they would twist all the other normal elements of a dental examination into delightful actions created to make me feel special.

But this experience really hammered home to me how important the factor of human behavior and service by people can be. Because despite the TV attached to my exam chair, and the lovely brand new surroundings, this was the most horrible dental experience I've ever had. It wasn't the most painful—but the service was shoddy at best, brusque and uncaring at worst. The staff never took the time to make me feel as special as the surroundings did. The hygenist did a less-than-average job of cleaning my teeth; the dentist had a horrible "bedside" manner, poked and prodded in my mouth with no care; adjusted the overhead light so that it shined directly in my eyes; berated me for not opting to get the expensive (un-neccessary) x-ray that my insurance didn't cover; announced that I had cavaties, but gave me no further details except that the receptionist would explain the payment plan with me; failed to let me know when the examination was over; never handed me the courtesy toothbrush and toothpaste that I saw laying out for me on the countertop; and didn't even say goodbye.

The quality of the service I received so soured me on this experience that I will NEVER go back to this office. I will also tell others not to go there. And this is from a person who gives many more second chances to many more people than she should—I am a very laid back and forgiving customer.

And I wonder, had the office been set up in the same shoddy manner as the service—would I have been so disappointed? Was my disgust and disappointment brought out because the service didn't match the environment presented to me? What if the conditions were switched, and the office was shoddy but the service was excellent?

I think what I ultimately took away is that the conditions for an experience need to be crafted in a way that shows not only care, but consistancy: all the details need to be tended to in the same manner. Otherwise, people are left confused as to the values that a company or organization is trying to portray.

My final takeaway from this dentist? He cares far more about beautiful environments and status symbols than treating his patients right. And, that designing an experience in a successful way wholly depends on making sure all the details say the same thing!

coffee mug interface: revisited...

So. After a few weeks of contemplation (and much needed distance), I want to present a refreshed take on this project.

But first, a few photos of the patterns I created....








So, after digesting things more, I have decided that in my (evolving) definition of interface, a coffee mug does not apply. When I applied a heat sensitive cling to the face of the mug, I was not intervening in an actual interface. However, by applying the cling to the mug, I was creating a new interface (in my ever evolving opinion).