ROLI – Between the Black and White Keys

Tmonk — *Thelonious Monk in 1978 via Contemporary Keyboard Magazine*

The humble piano, an instrument which has breezed through the test of time and remained at the forefront of music for over three-hundred years, but why? Unlike its predecessor, the harpsichord, the piano’s volume responds to the velocity in which its player strikes the keys. This granted generations of players an entire new world of expression that is still being tirelessly explored today and still will be for eons to come, from classical greats like Frederic Chopin to contemporary virtuosos such as Chilly Gonzalez, none of them would have been the person they are today without the piano. Nevertheless, 88 keys wasn’t enough for some. Acclaimed jazz pianist Thelonious Monk was said to have been “searching for the space between the black and white keys” in his music throughout the 40s, 50s, and 60s, and while he may never have found what he was looking for, someone else might’ve.

CoryHenrySeaboard — *Cory Henry jamming on the Seaboard GRAND at NAMM 2015 via ROLI*

Product design graduate Roland Lamb was similarly frustrated by the limitations of the standard keyboard. Whilst doing his PhD at the Royal College of Art, he built the first Seaboard prototype: a keyboard which replaced the black and white keys with a continuous touch-surface, completely opening up new possibilities for sonic expression much like the piano did in the seventeenth century. This was enough for Roland to gain the traction he needed to make the innovative new instrument a reality, and so he founded ROLI. The first steps of the company shared similarities with how Tesla tackled the market: Blow everyone away with a stunning product, in this case the now-discontinued 88 key ROLI Seaboard Grand. However the £7,000 price tag meant you would only ever play one in your dreams, unless you were pals with Hans Zimmer. After firmly planting yourself on the Christmas list of half the world’s musicians, it’s time to start making it more accessible. The prices slowly dropped, and smaller 49 and 24 key versions were subsequently released meaning they became way more accessible for the masses, but still remain very much at the luxury end of the market.

seaboardfamily — *The ROLI Seaboard family: the BLOCK (centre), RISE (upper right), and GRAND (lower right)*

ROLI succeeds because it gives piano players the ability to sonically express themselves in ways that only string players could previously. It succeeds because it is the next logical step for keyboard instruments to take. Many high-profile users praise it as one of the most expressive instruments out there, Pharrell Williams has even invested in and joined the company as chief creative officer. The idea of the ROLI Seaboard is an inspiration to me – it’s a gorgeous unification of music and technology which is equal parts timeless and visionary.

I thought it would be crazy to write all this without trying one out, so I went to to the only place in Glasgow that stocked them, Guitar Guitar Digital, to have a shot for myself. It seems no amount of YouTube videos can prevent you looking like a useless idiot the first time you sit in front of one. The squidgy (for lack of a better word) surface is so far removed from any other instrument I’d played that it took some amount of time before I was convinced. But convinced I was, and I left the store with the latest and most compact product ROLI has to offer, the 24 key ‘block.’ Trying out both the old and new generation keyboards, I couldn’t help but think that the (supposedly) higher end models were only priced as such to cover huge R&D costs, and not because they were superior. Now that they had it right, they could afford to sell much cheaper units – I paid £225 for my block and massively preferred the playability when compared to the £549 version of the same size they had out on the shop floor.

I cannot fault the playability of ROLIs products when they work, but the amount of elements related to the product which scream amateur truly make me mad. I was sold on the promise that I could play my existing library of digital instruments with ease, but it is far from easy. Setup time when using the ROLI is a good few minutes every time you want to use a new instrument, as well as a further few inevitable minutes of troubleshooting, by which time that tune you had in your head is long gone. Nevertheless, I trust that with the amount of money ROLI is raking in they can sort out the software side of things and create a frustration free experience.

Tapio Wirkkala – Finland’s Post-war Oeuvre

Bolle bottles wirkkala — *Venini Bottles by Tapio Wirkkala via Alegre*

Following the First World War, a newly independent Finland was desperate to prove itself to the world and undertook the mammoth task of inventing a new design style for the country.

An Italian design magazine called Domus bolstered this effort by sharing postwar Scandanavian design to a worldwide audience. Amongst the garish coffee machines one particular Finnish name popped up more often than others, Tapio Wirkkala. Tapio was an intensive designer known primarily for his decorative glasswork. He personally photographed his work for the magazine in his own unique style which was popular amongst its readers. The objects were heavily inspired by natural forms, particularly that of the forest, and Finnish mythology.

*Selection of Wirkkala’s glasses via Iittala*

One such piece was entered into a competition organised by Iittala, a Finnish glassworks company, and won. The Chanterelle vase was the first of 120 products Tapio designed for the company, all of which went into production. This company amongst others were to become household names thanks to Wirkkalas work.

Wirkkala Sketch — *Sketches by Tapio Wirkkala via Helsinki Design Museum*

Tapio was renowned for his rigorous and exhaustive design process. After doing hundreds of sketches for a single design, Wirkkala would personally involve himself in every stage of manufacture, even carving industrial moulds by hand using his trusty carving knife. Tapio even designed several of these carving knives (or ‘puukko’s) in his lifetime.

*Puukko Knife and Sheath by Tapio Wirkkala*

This involvement with the process gives Tapio’s work its most valuable trait, the way in which it conveys the designers hand despite being mass-produced. Tapio and his prolific body of work was internationally recognised by the time he passed away on the 19^th May 1985.

Tapio old — *Tapio Veli Ilmari Wirkkala in 1968 via Iittala*

D&T: Rachael Sleight

*Clarence Shoulder Bag by Rachael Sleight via Burnbank*

Rachaels lecture was a refreshing take on the world of design and how to explore it. Through talking about her journey, she shared with us the ways she managed to stay curious & well-informed when it came to design & technology. For 10 years, Rachael worked writing reports (similar to articles) for Stylus, a subscription services for large companies which tracked trends in fields such as fashion, architecture, and food & beverage. She employed a 4-stage approach when tackling these reports: research, synthesise, deliver, and track. This allowed her the chance to keep on top of and become familiar with the emerging technologies which were informing major trends around her. Its the perfect time in a designers life to be given a free pass to look for their niche. Whilst doing this on the side, Rachael was being given retail briefs by the likes of Habitat and John Lewis, but was always happiest when given time and money to explore. She now works for herself in more ways than one, making her own bespoke leather goods while living in rural Scotland, something that sounds like a dream to most. She adores the meditative aspect of making, and swears by Alfie Douglas’ theory that it greatly reduces stress and anxiety.

*Paston for Conran designed by Rachael Sleight via M&S*

In a world of gargantuan companies and global brands, craftspeople like Rachael are an important reminder to kick the disposable mindset. Spending several hundred pounds on a bespoke handbag may sound like a luxurious fantasy, but it’s really not when you consider its quality and lifetime, not to mention Rachael’s continued involvement should a repair need to be made or an extra pocket added. Sure, you could buy 10 handbags from Primark for the same amount of money, but the earth cannot afford to sustain behaviour like this. Rachael showed us something she was about to start renovating for a customer – a wallet passed down from the persons great grandfather. The wallet was certainly on its last legs before she got her hands on it, but the fact it had lasted several generations can teach us a lot about how and what we buy. Instead of focusing on biodegradable this and recyclable that, maybe the answer lies in investing in lasting products.

Rachael Sleight working on a Burnbank leather bag via Rachael Sleight

Needless to say, this has implications for the designer. If Rachael’s bag designs followed trends the way high street brands do, then there would be no desire to keep it when it was no longer in fashion, never mind pass it on to the next generation. Obviously, for it to physically last it needs to be well-made from good quality materials. However, to remain desirable, such objects must be free from the influence of passing styles. In other words, they need to be timeless.

D&T: Nicholas Oddy

Nicholas Oddy’s Design & Technology lecture posed a multitude of answers to the question: What Makes Great Design? Instead of trying to define great design, he explored the different reasons for which the term ’great design’ could be attributed to something. He pondered if people in history who are regarded as great designers today, such as George Stevenson, can in fact be called great designers, or whether everything they did can be considered great design simply because one or two of their products went down in the history books. In the case of George Stephenson, a man who’s chosen rail specifications became the standard for almost every railway in the world today, and who’s Geordie Safety Lamp became so widely used that it gave the miners (and subsequently people) of North England their name, my opinion is yes. Everything he achieved was done with no prior scientific knowledge; and no latter scientific knowledge: Stephenson’s lamp design was created exclusively through trial and error.

Even despite the circumstances, the lamp is famed for the amount of lives it has saved. Inarguably, this makes it great design. Factors we usually consider when discussing great design, such as aesthetics and usability, tend to take a back seat when something is heralded for this reason. But what about when something is so intriguingly beautiful that it captures the eyes of many, when in fact it is completely useless? Can we say that the most beautiful juicer in the world is great design, purely on its (stunning) looks? The answer is already yes. Philippe Starck’s eye-catching, yet substance-less designs have cemented him a place in the hall of fame of great designers, when perhaps he should be amongst artists. The Juicy Salif was described by Terrence Conran as ‘completely hopeless,’ but hastened to add that ‘god it looks good,’ and I don’t have a problem with that. Certainly, nobody should be stopped from creating something beautiful on the grounds that it doesn’t ‘work’, but a juicer that can’t juice is an art piece. Nicholas made a good point in saying that anyone who owns a Juicy Salif, almost certainly has a more functional fruit squeezer tucked away out of sight, which speaks for itself.

*Juicy Salif by Phillippe Starck via Alessi*

For me, designing around definite ‘tasks’ such as this involves advancing how effectively the task is carried out, or making the experience more enjoyable to the point where it transcends being a task and becomes entertainment. As the human race progresses, more efficient design means less time and/or money needs to be delegated to certain tasks, and who doesn’t like the sound of more free time?

But where do we funnel this new found time? As computers now have the processing capabilities to organise vast amounts of information that our economy runs on, we give more value to imaginative qualities than we ever have before as we progress into a creative economy. Humans have time to work on things which are exclusively ‘human,’ and we are celebrating that. A computer may be able to tabulate gargantuan amounts of information in a fraction of a second, but it could never look beyond that information to innovate the way that Stephenson did during his experiments. Looking at the world through ‘what if?’ lenses is what led him to create the lifesaving Geordie lamp. When Starck first doodled the Juicy Salif on the menu of a pizzeria, he didn’t think about what was standard, or normal, or even functional, he just drew. Great design is progress, and progress is within the human ability to imagine.

salifsketch — *Phillippe Starck’s initial Juicy Salif sketches on pizzeria menu via Starck*

D&T: John Thorne

*Congolese miner using mobile phone via Fiona Lloyd-Davies*

Almost ten years ago, filmmaker Frank Pasecki Poulsen attempted to raise awareness of the conflict in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo funded by the illegal mining of rare minerals that were being sold to mobile phone manufacturers. Poulsen was appalled by the notion that electronics he was purchasing were funding murder and mutilation and thus made several attempts to confront Nokia about their alleged use of “blood minerals.” His pleas fell on deaf ears, however, and blame was passed from one spokesperson to the next until he decided to journey to the source of the materials which were being mined at gunpoint in Bisie. His film ‘Blood In The Mobile’ shared gruesome images and stories with the world in an effort to stop the biggest conflict since the Second World War. Nearly a decade later, has anything changed?

*Patrick, a 26 year-old Congolese miner digging for cobalt via The Times*

The tech industry today is certainly more aware of the problem and many big-name brands (http://www.responsiblemineralsinitiative.org/about/members-and-collaborations/) now participate in the Conflict-Free Smelter Programme (CFSP) which monitors the global metals supply chain and provides a list of smelters and refiners which they have deemed to be socially, environmentally, and economically friendly. As well as this, Section 1502 of the Dodd-Frank act requested that companies listed on the US stock exchange prove that the mining, sale, or taxing of minerals used in their products does not fund armed groups.

This may sound like incredible progress for people of the DR Congo, but it isn’t. Hundreds of thousands of miners have been left with no source of income after Section 1502 meant a de-facto ban on mining in Congo using hand-tools. The militias that the legislation aimed to take down have begun making money by other means such as timber, cannabis, and palm oil. While the CFSP has certainly made a worthy attempt at creating conditions for responsible material acquisition and preventing blood minerals from being present in our electronic products, it still has not addressed the real problem – the conflict. By closely centring their efforts on the metals supply chain they have only shifted the conflict elsewhere.

congo wash minerals.jpg — *Blood minerals being rinsed in water via Blood in the Mobile*

As consumers, is there really much of a difference we can make to the bigger picture? Are designers and companies to be held more accountable? The issue is far more complex than I first imagined before properly researching after I watched Blood On The Mobile. I felt abhorrently guilty watching the film, but I find solace in that there must be a tradeoff between designers using our personal electronics to design something that say, reduces plastic usage or provides clean drinking water to a remote part of the world. The lesson learned is that thoughtful design is a necessity we cant afford to ignore.

D&T: Craig Whittet

*Ed and his 1932 Alvis 12/50 via Aaron Cowan*

At the scale large companies operate at today, it’s easy to see why the art of craftsmanship has been replaced by robotic assembly lines. There was a day when an automobile was an amalgamation and celebration of numerous different professions: hand-sculpted bodies filled with beautifully upholstered furniture and hand-wired electronics. Today, people spend unholy amounts of money buying and maintaining these beautiful relics of a bygone era because “they don’t make ‘em like the used to!”

But what does that really mean? Have these skilled workers simply gone extinct? Or are we destroying their delicate habitat by investing our money into companies whose idea of success is to scale up to astronomical levels? Consider Apple: when you’re selling over 210 million iPhones in a single year the it’s impossible for the process to be anything but automated. These products aren’t made to last. Whether we like it or not, they’re disposable. I’ll never forget taking my laptop – which was a little under seven years old – to Apple to get fixed, only to be told they didn’t repair ‘vintage machines.’

Or maybe it’s the wages? Shoemakers hone their skillset as an apprentice for years earning a wage usually lower than half that of a barman just to pass their knowledge on to the next generation of apprentices. Even if the income doesn’t bother you, apprenticeships don’t cover everything. They seem a little old-fashioned, especially if boundary-pushing is your kind of thing. There can’t be someone teaching you techniques if you are the one pioneering those techniques in the first place.

Look to Discommon: They are a design firm who created their own sister brand, Discommon Goods, to allow themselves to trial, tinker, and tweak innovative techniques in the form of small, simple products. The techniques, once perfected, are applied to larger projects by the same people who had fun exploring a new method of manufacture in a stress-and risk-free headspace.

*The Bottle Opener 2 via Discommon Goods*

Take their product ‘The Bottle Opener 2’ as an example. Discommon were in the developmental stages of a project they had been asked to tackle by a large luggage firm when they realised one of the manufacturing methods they were planning on using was going to be “a pain in the ass.” The challenge was stitching leather through metal with especially tight tolerances, but instead of just advancing the technique for the luggage firm project, they decided to do something completely different and develop a simple product around it.

The learning process they have now gone through has taught them a new skill (or skills), with the added bonus of an extra product on their shelf. Mind you, they are not cheap—you can expect to be parting with no less than $100 to get your hands on one of their bottle openers, or almost $300 for a whisky tumbler. You might think an extortionate price tag such as this would drive away customers, but almost every single product on their website is sold out, and for good reason: the commodities they produce are extremely high quality, utterly unique, and make fantastic talking points.

There’s no reason for skilled craftsmen and women to die out. If you are a consumer, you can look further than the brands with the largest advertising budgets and find something made by humans. If you are a company, make sure your interpretation of success does not contradict how you choose to run your business.

D&T: The Architect & The Painter

Ray Eames Sitting — *Ray Eames sitting in the Eames Lounge Chair & Ottoman via Eames Office*

Today Charles and Ray Eames are heralded as the most influential couple in the architecture and design world. Professionally speaking, they were a perfect pairing: Charles took the lead when it came to form and functionality, and Ray was the virtuoso who was in charge of character and colour, although it is difficult to define exactly who was responsible for what. Time magazine praised their LCW chair as chair of the century, and the Washington post said their work ‘changed the way the 20^th century sat down.’ They weren’t always heralded as the biggest powerhouse couple of the design world, in fact, many even mistakenly labelled Ray as Charles’ brother at the time.

Eameschairbird — *Eames Wire Chairs arranged with Blackbird by Ray Eames via Eames Office*

Ray and her work fell victim to the casual sexism mindset of the time. She was once introduced on national television as the ‘able-woman’ behind the successful man, despite Charles best efforts to politely explain that she was just as responsible for the world-changing designs as he was. He said that ‘she has a very good sense of what gives a piece of sculpture it’s character, of how it’s relationships are formed’ and much else besides, never belittling her contribution the way many onlookers did. Pat Kirkham interviewed Ray five years before her death in 1983 (five years after Charles death), an interview which disclosed that Ray ‘…(partly) enjoyed playing the wife behind the great genius, while another part of (her) craved recognition in her own right.’ During the conversation she is painted as atypically humble regarding her input to the Eames office and someone who would never have taken the spotlight from Charles, simply out of adoration for her husband. It’s brilliant that today Charles is seldom mentioned without also mentioning Ray, and that they are commended as a couple. Nevertheless, it doesn’t always work out so nicely. Closer to home, parallels can be drawn to Charles Rennie Mackintosh and Margaret Macdonald Mackintosh’s collaborative career.

Like Charles Eames, C. R. Mackintosh was embarrassed by the way his wife Margaret was represented within their design partnership. Her work, like Ray’s, was similarly disparaged by critics who may have had less respect due to the fact it was decorative, and so too portrayed her as the wife behind the successful man. C. R. Mackintosh was all too aware of this and, like Charles Eames, repeatedly and politely acknowledged that any work that was wrongly attributed mainly to him was in fact a collaboration, noting that ‘Margaret has genius, I have mere talent.’

The Eames duo undoubtedly earned their place in history. Ray’s input at the Eames office is arguably how their collective output developed the recognisable characteristics that have taken the world by storm since, and a fine example of why there is no place for sexism in design.

Ray Eames — *Ray Kaiser Eames in 1983 via Pat Kirkham*

No Man’s Sky Soundtrack – Music for an Infinite Universe

NoManSky1 — *A procedurally generated world in No Mans Sky via Hello Games*

Procedural generation was born from the memory and hardware restrictions of old computer systems, allowing seemingly infinite two-dimensional video game worlds to be created and explored without ever experiencing the same level twice. Today’s computer systems and games consoles are far beyond such confines, and the three-dimensional perpetually changing worlds made possible through procedural generation have captured the imagination of gamers worldwide. Since its release in 2011, Sandbox video game Minecraft has sold over 154 million copies, and was bought by Microsoft in 2014 for $2.5 billion, second only to Tetris.

NoManSky2 — *A procedurally generated world in Minecraft via TugTugBug*

In its infancy, this technique caused scepticism. The procedurally generated universe in the 1984 game Elite was to contain around 2⁴⁸(around 282 trillion) galaxies with several hundred solar systems apiece but was reduced to just eight after the publisher decided it would ‘cause disbelief in players.’ Fast-forward over 30 years and you find yourself amidst the hype for something not as dissimilar as you might think. No Man’s Sky took the world by storm after promising a playable universe of around 18 quintillion full-size planets each with procedurally generated wildlife, climate, and atmosphere among many other things. However, when it was released, this ostensibly infinite cosmos felt empty and monotonous, and the tiny ten-man team behind the game didn’t deliver on many of the promises they made in the lead up to the release. David Braben summed it up nicely during his TEDx talk: “Bad procedural generation is art that hasn’t felt the love of an artist.” After huge backfire from the hundreds of thousands of players who purchased the game upon release, the tiny game studio took the profits and eventually over the last few years updated the game into what they had originally promised, and more.

The unexpectedly beautiful redeeming factor of the game for myself was the way the soundtrack was approached. Scoring films and regular video games is much easier: the user is directed through a particular experience and the soundtrack often mirrors and compliments the journey and emotions that come alongside it. Except what about when that story is non-existent, and each player is curating the journey themselves? Sheffield band 65daysofstatic wanted to create something as infinite as the game world itself, and thus took a different methodology to scoring the game. After creating and recording many snippets of music, they worked with the developers to craft a system which strung and layered these elements together in a way which meant you would never hear the same music twice. Although not strictly procedurally generated, smart algorithms meant the music adapted to compliment what you were doing and where you were really rather well.

Could this idea be expanded upon? Could ‘procedurally generated’ music give rise to an entirely new way of listening to music the same way as it did with video games? Could soundtracks and even albums of the future be unique every time you listened to them? Is there an opportunity somewhere between the two to bridge the gap between recorded music and live music? This idea is certainly intriguing.

Thomas Heatherwick – Expert Thinker

Thomas1 — *The 2012 London Olympics Cauldron via LOCOG*

Thomas Heatherwick is renowned for his architecture and design, but he comes across to me as a thinker. Heatherwick elegantly strides the line between art and functionality, occasionally straying deeper into one than the other depending on the application. He has created definite displays like the 2012 London Olympics Cauldron and the Seed Cathedral for the UK Pavilion in Shanghai, but is often headhunted for more involved design projects such as the updated Routemaster – a modern and more efficient take on the classic London double-decker bus. All of these projects share something in common, their thoughtfulness. Such radical work is always likely to split opinion, but given the chance, Heatherwick’s explanations of the thought processes surrounding the designs are more than likely to draw you in.

To him, large buildings felt cold and without soul, and he became very aware of how similar the entire world was becoming in this respect due to globalisation. Structures were missing the depth and expression he saw in smaller entities like jewellery and musical instruments. This might sound like a gloomy and pessimistic outlook, but to see his creative output is to see how he channels these views into something astonishing. His ability to hone in on the tiniest details and realisations and use them to define massive projects is fundamental to his success.

Thomas3 — *London Routemaster via Heatherwick Studio*

Thomas has been called the Gaudí or even da Vinci of his time, but I see him more as a Willy Wonka type. The stunning aesthetics of his creations are weird and wonderful enough to make everyone stop and look, and though the fantastical shrink-rays and candy boats of the chocolate factory are far-fetched to say the least, the inner workings of Heatherwick’s designs never fail to impress. Under the hood, every aspect of every project is progressive in the sense that it centres on the state of the world both environmentally and culturally. It’s clear that through being an excessive thinker, Thomas’ design philosophy is so well-defined in his head that it comes naturally to him. At no point does any facet of his design work bypass or compromise his beliefs and responsibilities as a designer, which is why so many have put their faith in him and will continue to do so.

Gorillaz – Designing a Band

An ex-child super-soldier on guitar; a Satanist hoodlum on bass; the sole-survivor of a drive by shooting on drums; and a coma-surviving frontman are the ostensible recipe for success according to over 16 million album sales worldwide. The remarkable part? None of them exist.

Gorillaz2 — *Jamie Hewlett and Damon Albarn circa 1997 via Pixbear*

Sometime in the late 90s, flatmates Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett were sick to death of how boring MTV was besides the odd Spike Jonze or Hype Williams music video. Jamie was a comic artist known for creating Tank-Girl; Damon had been the lead singer of Blur for ten years. After 6 months of demoing and doodling, Gorillaz was formed. Since then, the virtual band have released 6 studio albums, headlined the likes of Glastonbury and Coachella, and won a multitude of awards for both their musical and visual endeavours.

Gorillaz3 — *Left to right: Phases 1 through 5 of 2D (top), Russell (middle), and Noodle (bottom)*

Every album has so far represented a ‘phase’ in which the visual style and extensive lore behind the characters progresses. This has been drip-fed to us using everything from music videos and biographies to more experimental means such as an interactive DVDs and fake interviews, compelling the fans to piece together the story themselves. While some might think it would be great to have a Gorillaz movie, finding and piecing together fragments of lore deepens the emotional connection to the band and gives the narrative more power than it might otherwise have if it was spoon-fed to the fans in a feature-length film.

Gorillaz4 — *Gorillaz performing live at London In Stereo via London In Stereo*

Just as the storyline develops, so too does the graphic style. Hewlett’s two-dimensional characters may be just that, but they have garnered a brand identity that most big companies, never mind artists, can only dream of. That’s what impresses me most about Hewlett and Albarn’s creation today—the project’s art and music have become inseparable to the point that having one without the other feels soulless and empty. I remember becoming aware of Gorillaz for the first time and pursuing my interest in them myself when I was just nine years old: my attention being caught by the characters but captivated by the music—something I believe only a cartoon band could’ve done at that age.