My wife does a lot of work with data visualization, in which she extracts patterns and stories from large data sets and represents them visually through graphic design or animation. It’s a really interesting and elucidating way of making sense out of huge amounts of information; in a sense, figuring out what stories the data tell on their own, rather than using data to support a preconceived idea. Data visualizations can be pragmatic, or artistic, and are often both.

I was thinking recently, though, about all the patterns that must exist in data that we don’t even know to look for, and what kinds of interesting stories they might tell us. I am not a computer programmer, but it seems it must be possible to develop some kind of algorithmic pattern-seeker. The human mind is constantly on the lookout for patterns, but has a pretty low fidelity, which is why we see Jesus in tree stumps and burnt toast and water stains, and why we think more weird stuff happens during a full moon than at other times, and all kinds of other very human logical fallacies. A machine, on the other hand, would not be susceptible to confirmation bias and other such pitfalls.

I wonder whether the next big development in data visualization is going to come when we can just feed enormous amounts of data into a system that will make its own sense out of it rather than requiring some kind of human intervention telling it what to look for. This would be a boon both to artists and to scientists – to everyone concerned with parsing data and finding the larger truths they represent. (If you know of a project like this that already exists or is in the works, please let me know in the comments!)

Data auralization doesn’t quite have the same ring to it (no pun intended), but it is something people do. Sound artist and kinetic sculptor Trimpin, for example, created an installation in which sounds and musical robots are controlled by a live incoming stream of seismic data. Another sound artist, Andrea Polli, created a piece that maps climate data to different sonic parameters in an algorithmic composition. I myself have done interactive performance works where aspects of a player’s improvisation (eg pitch, loudness, tempo, number of attacks, etc) control an algorithmically generated electronic counterpoint.

But in all these cases, the computer is programmed to look at the incoming data stream (or the input data set) in a very particular way. What might we end up hearing or seeing if the computer is allowed to look using its own logic? What might we learn that we never would have zeroed in on left to our own devices?

my favorite piece was a video piece up on the fifth floor by james richards called active negative programme.  i looked for a few minutes to see if any clips were uploaded anywhere, and came up empty, which is a shame because i think it would still be very communicative without the whole installation (basically a small stage with 12 chairs, a large tv, and headphones playing noise).

the video cuts together clips of people listening.  imagine your typical televised interview.  they often cut away to the subject of the interview a few seconds before the questioner finishes up his question.  there’s a look of anticipation as they mentally prepare their answer.  you often see the same look on the faces of people who are listening intently to someone speak, even if it’s not a situation where they will have the opportunity to respond, such as members of studio audiences for talk shows, etc.  active negative programme is a string of these moments from television, shots of people listening, either about to speak, or at least in the act of formulating a response were they given the opportunity to speak.  all sound is removed, and if you want the full experience, go to the show and put on the headphones with the noise, to block out even ambient sound.  i was quite on the edge of my seat, anticipating what all these people were about to say.  the piece puts the viewer in a very – and i mean this in the best sense – uncomfortable position.  it’s very provocative, actually.  an relentless series of inhalations.

it reminds me of a performance of 4′33″ that a friend described to me (i didn’t see this performance myself).  the performers took the approach of standing for the duration of each of the three movements, with their hands, mouths, etc positioned as though they were about to play the loudest note they could.  i’m not sure that adding that level of theater to the piece is really in keeping with cage’s intentions (the mental energy expended on anticipation probably distracts from one’s attention to the silence, which was cage’s real interest), but taken on its own merits, it sounds like a very interesting audience experience.

more than that, though, the piece was a reminder of what a creative activity listening is.  we tend to think of the consumption of information, whether heard, watched, or read (or even remembered) as, if not passive, at least receptive:  we are not making anything, but rather absorbing something that’s been made.  check out richards’s piece, though, and see if you don’t think the faces of the people listening betray minds engaged in creation, formulation, filtering, relating.  listening – real listening – is in a very real sense speaking.

i’ve always felt i did my best composing while seated at other people’s concerts.

Last year, when I was working full time at Electronic Music Foundation, I was briefly involved with trying to find a commercial home for Auracle, Max’s online interactive improvisation tool.  Go check it out.  You have to download a plugin called JSyn to make it work, but it’s pretty fun and easy to get started.  I know there are other tools out there like this, but I’m pretty sure Max’s was one of the first.