UCI Informatics 282 | Fall 2018
Our experience proposal for Pacific City in Huntington Beach is a site-specific exploration into the water surrounding the city – the ocean and the river.
Unlike the ocean, the river is a forgotten space, waiting to be rediscovered. We propose a bicycle voyage that rediscovers the connection between the river and the ocean.
Arc: Collapse, Terrain: Religion, Object: Device, Mood: Embarrassment
It is the year 2050. Only 30 years since the Santa Ana RiverFront rocketed to became a tourist destination and local hangout for telling the tales of water. Much as changed. The sea rise from climate change has truly brought the ocean and river back together, but instead of fresh water rushing to the sea, the sea now rushes up the river.
The world economy has collapsed. In 2022 the power grid went down in a massive hacking attack. Against this backdrop of fear and confusion, religion in America fell its disarray, unable to fight off the encroaching paranoia and hysteria brought on by global geopolitical unrest and massive environmental change.
Now, young atheists, once happily described as “hipsters” and “millennials” find themselves worshiping their technology gods for their survival. In the desolation of the Santa Ana River, they live in tents, homelessness no longer a “problem” but the norm. They band together, modern day cargo cultists, fashioning steampunk devices they hope will bring fresh water back into the world, to push the sea back into itself, so that humans may live and watch Netflix again.
But they are like Adam and Eve. They know that switches and knobs are no sooner to bring them a miracle than a button or a drop-down list. And they are embarrassed.
[Image attribution to be added]
Idea 1: An interactive TV installation to educate about ocean acidification
Huntington Beach is best known as Surf City, and the Pacific Ocean anchors the town firmly as its westward boundary. We propose to raise awareness about the ocean, specifically the phenomenon of acidification, which changes the delicate pH of the water and is a by-product of carbon dioxide and other human emissions.
Our proposal: an interactive tv environment that invites Pacific City goers to touch and learn about the ocean and causes of ocean acidification. Some of our ideas are represented here on this mood board. Given the topic, we could combine digital pieces with physical displays that further enable interaction with the water and biology of the ocean. We would partner with Earth Eclipse.
Idea 2: Local fitness app engages locals in site-specific outdoor activities
Participants get sponsored to compete in a health challenge that raises funds for the local chapter of a health organization such as the American Heart Association.
The fitness challenge features local spots where participants can scan a QR code when they complete the health challenge at that place. Outdoor fitness stations will be installed temporarily at Pacific City to facilitate the series. For example, a spot where runners can stretch or do pushups and situps. A running loop could feature QR codes to scan for mile markers.
Idea 3: An Outdoor digital art installation that focuses on raising empathy and awareness about homelessness and poverty in Huntington Beach. Most everyone is aware of the rising issue of homelessness in Orange County, but it’s easy to read the news and think there’s no solution. In fact, communities have been caring for the indigent and poor since, well, Biblical time. This project is in support of American Family Housing and the City of Huntington Beach’s efforts to house the homeless.
The installation will feature stories about local organizations and individuals who support and aid the neediest residents – a day in the life of a pastor whose church houses a shelter, a city health worker who does needle exchange.
A fundraiser at Pacific City complements the installation – one part is an expensive ticketed sit-down event to drive larger donations, and the second part is an inexpensive raffle or another virtual event that is more affordable and aimed at raising awareness among younger people and/or families.
Bellevue, Washington
Winter is coming and with it the rain and darkness.
Suburban living, condo life. Rely on your ORCA card and the whims of the public transportation schedule to commute, catch a barre class, shop. On foot, it is too far to downtown and a 45-minute walk to the nearest stores.
At least there’s the discount grocery – good place for cherry tomatoes and kale. But it’s winter now, and the major food groups are chocolate, cookies, and peanut butter.
I started my walk today at the condo but when I made a left I was at my bus stop and the bus was arriving. So I got on and we made several turns that could be marked off and sketched such as the bus stop itself, the trees, the front and side of the high school nearby. The bus took me to my Mappings site, Crossroads Shopping Center. As I get off the bus, I was pleased to make a left there and cross the street toward the center. I sketched the crosswalk sign, more trees, and a sandwich board advertising open homes at one of the townhouse developments. I was working on sketching quickly – let’s call it scribble sketching ;-). It was quite sunny when I started out, and not too cold, which is good because I ended up meandering in the parking lot for a while. Eventually, I made my way closer to the buildings, and after about 45 minutes I decided my next right needed to take me into the Half-Price Books store, and then deeper into the mall. It was getting late then, I was cold and tired. Looking back on my drawings and notes I can see the mall has a lot going on, even in the parking lot. One of the notable items was the amount of signage all over.
Yes or No on 1631, which will it be?
Both these signs pack a punch with their design. The No camp has got some fierce language on their side. Not only is it a no, its a NO. And it’s a STOP. This sign features strong primary colors, dominantly red, evocative of the Republicans, perhaps? Meanwhile in the yes camp its a cheerful, hopeful future in blue, green and yellow. I think both of these signs achieve a lot in the way of being “good” campaign signs.
However, what bothers me about them is they are both deceptive and meant to push people to opposite ends. That is how campaigns are won, but, it bugs me. 1631 is not just about sunshine and clean air. It’s a tax. And it’s also not unfair. Both these signs manipulate the public into voting and it’s super irritating. Of course, if I were voting in Washington I would pick a side and it would be the side that isn’t the fossil fuel companies spending millions to defeat this bill. So color me blue, green and yellow!
I tried to find a campaign sign that wasn’t good, but I didn’t see any. I also only walk and take the bus, so what I see is what I see. Have a look at this cute one. I don’t know that I agree with the bi-tonal “B-Right” but it’s a very memorable sign, with the subject’s winning name and the cute little lightbulb.
Map 1: The Condo I’m staying at, paths of my roommate and I done in Illustrator.
Map 2: My office floor, routes of my manager and I in PowerPoint
Map 3: My commute, with heavy traffic areas and regular stops hand-drawn. Oy vey.
Final Map:
Alright folks. Uncle. If I had way more time to spend on this I would do it again in totally different ways. I changed the cars visualization and added more people. I also added the buildings back in for more reference. And a title. Thank you to everyone who helped me learn during this project! Happy nearly Thanksgiving!
Second to the Last Map:
My observation of the Southern edge of this shopping center became a study of shopping carts. The carts are a clear and visible force that goes largely unnoticed.
Individually, carts are very present in the lives of shoppers who need them to transport their purchases. Taken at the aggregate level, shopping carts represent a host of interactions: awaiting shoppers with the assurance of free hands for goods-gathering; under the command of satisfied shoppers heading to cars; returned to the parking lot “corrals”; and awaiting the next run from their holding pens.
Shopping carts are also traces of the people who pushed them. Carts end up dispersing into the environment. Some hasty shoppers abandon them in the parking lot, where they drift waywardly to settle across multiple parking spots, the cars seemingly repelled by a dent-circumference.
And carts end up clustered near bus stops and beyond, ranging far from their base of operations. How might the purchases of people in cars differ from people on the bus? For the next round, I will try to layer in a story of demographics of the people who live and shop in Bellevue, and how having a car vs taking the bus might indicate economic or social forces. I should be able to run some simple R code to get census tract data for the areas around this shopping center.
As for feedback – I could use it! I’ve focused on trying to get the forces – carts, people, cars and busses – to interact. Thoughts appreciated, and anything else you’d like to comment on!
*** Initial post ***
I’ve chosen the edge of Crossroads Shopping Center in Bellevue, Washington as my mapping site. For my first observation, I selected the intersection of NE 8th St and 156th Ave NE with an upper bound of what would be NE 10th had it intersected the shopping center; a lower bound of the south side of NE 8th St., and to the East, 164th Ave. NE.
For my exploration pathway, I crossed the Crossroads parking lot, then walked up NE 8th St, and took a side trip through Bellevue City Crossroad Park. On my way back towards 156th, I crossed NE 8th and walked along the other side of the street, passing by the United States Post Office, a discount grocery, and a gas station. On my way, I noticed forces at work on the space.
One cannot escape the formative hand of the city of Bellevue and it’s commercial partners in developing this area. One way that is evident is in how streets and parking are manifested. The streets are very large to carry a high volume of cars and public transportation. There is no parking along the street. Instead, all of the parking is in parking lots that are made to be used only when you are shopping. The parking is plentiful if you are planning to do some shopping, and there are strict looking signs that govern the use of the parking lot. No walk-offs, no overnight parking. However, on my wanderings, I have seen people park along the periphery of the lots, and take a quick snooze before the parking attendants come through to shoo them away.
This much shopping has to mean garbage. There are trash containers everywhere, somewhat hidden, but not really. There are some that are bigger and smaller, all kinds of trash in the form of old retail displays, pallets, and whatever other trash comes off of the steady stocking of retail shelves. There is also some garbage from election signs, and from people sitting on the outdoor benches and littering. But there’s not much garbage on the streets.
Pedestrians and ferrying them safely into the shopping stores is paramount. There are many features to keep families safe as they travel from a street or parking lot to the safety of the big box retail store, such as crosswalks and speed bumps. There are many types of people, shoppers, retail workers, service people, and some guards.
Shopping carts are a force all their own. They are emblematic of retail, a necessity to store and transport purchases to awaiting cars in parking lots. The carts end up everywhere, often on the periphery of the space, where those without cars have pushed them as far as they will go. Meanwhile, there are many attempts to store and organize the carts themselves, and specially built corrals for them to rest in before being returned to the store for another ride.
The 245 and B line buses are the main way people get around if they don’t have cars. There are several stops that service this area. Around bus stops, we see evidence of Desire Lines, paths that have been cut through the planters that allow people the most direct way to get to the business end of the bus stop.
As with many city streets and commercial/residential areas, nature isn’t natural. it seems like every plant, bush and tree has been planned and planted. Even the dirt is carried in. No matter, the effect here in Washington is quite stunning, especially the trees. This fall, my first here, I watched with wonder for a month as beautifully colored leaves changed colors, fell in carpets, dried to a dry rustly crunch. Just this week they’ve become a sodden mess in the ensuing rain.
There are other signs of decay – small, soft pine cones afford rolled ankles for careless walkers; rat traps hint at the underworld.
*** second post ***
Six force maps
Traffic (plus roads and parking, all related)
Public transportation (not many stops, but lots of lines)
Nature (many trees)
Decay and waste (leaves and garbage)
People (where they frequent)
Shopping carts (strewn about, and collected)
I am pleased to share the mapping work of my neighbor, Jonathan Levy, which he completed for the Museum of New York with The Pratt Institute and Local Projects. This is an interactive mapping environment that feature socio-economic, transportation and environmental data analysis.
In making visible what is otherwise hidden and inaccessible, maps … enable the accumulation, organization … of the … ever-emerging milieu. — James Corner, Agency of Mapping
The purpose of the exhibit is to curate and make visible key aspects of New York life: making a living, living together, housing a growing population, living with nature, and getting around.
The universal design principles evident in use are Color, Comparison, and Layering. Note the different hues and complements of the colors within the “views” of the map – ethnicities, housing in the images above; the comparison afforded by the use of categorical data on neighborhood block-level Census tracts; and the visual layering that enables one to see the various information levels atop each other, albeit not at the same time. I assert the animation effect enables the layering to be transient and memorial at the same time.
Additional design principles operating include Immersion, Depth of Processing, and Five Hat Racks: location, category, continuum. (Tip o’ the hat to Rona for her selection of that one.
Immersion is the only way I can think of to describe the stunning display used for this exhibit. It takes horizontal information which is great for viewing the many layers of meaning, and extends it vertically up the wall where the imagery is used to frame the exhibit, and further immerse the viewer in an experience that is all around them.
Meanwhile, the map uses a lot of data to build this exhibit. In this way, I see this map as employing depth of processing to deepen the experience for viewers through the use of the physical display and the information presented.
[Fun fact: Jonathan also served as my practice interview for User Needs 281, wearing his Actor hat. I miss Brooklyn.]
[Updated: Watching Jesse’s lecture, I’m understanding the Gestalt principle of Figure-Ground and can see that at work in this map where NYC is the figure, and the water is the ground. A selection, ethnicities, becomes the figure, everything else the ground; and so on.
Contour Bias is a design principle that states people prefer objects with contoured surfaces over objects with sharp angles or pointed features (Lidwell, Holden, and Butler, Universal Principles of Design, p 62).
The empirical evidence supporting this principle comes from the primary work of Moshe Bar and Maital Neta in their article, “Humans Prefer Curved Visual Objects” published in Psychological Science, in 2006. It even appears the preference for rounded objects is exhibited by other primates.
From a design perspective, the general rule of contour bias calls for using angular features when the intent is to sharpen attention and using contoured features when attempting to create a positive first impression. (Lidwell, et. al.)
This example from Universal Principles of Design recalls the Bar and Neta experiments, in which “emotionally neutral” objects were used to test for contour bias. These “emotion-free” shapes were used to mitigate confounding factors, such as using baby-shapes or knife-shapes. Which is to say, people prefer soft shapes to stabby features, in a setting free of other signals that tell you something is cuddly or dangerous.
This second example looks at the discussion of font shapes, their personas, and the use of rounded ones to convey comfort, softness, and femininity. I wanted to use Comic Sans in this section, but decided not to, because of the confounding factors of its use being tied to a trend, and also the hatred of it also being tied to that trend.
This is the exterior of the Museum of Pop Culture in Seattle, designed by Frank O. Gehry. It is one of several examples of museums designed by Gehry that feature extensive curving on surfaces where one might expect an angular, boxy building.
Was Gehry specifically considering the notion of contour bias, I suspect not. He likely was working within a larger context, but I was reminded of his work when researching contour bias, so I have presented it here.
As internet research can do, including Gehry in this post reminds me of this cat scratcher as it seems to have been designed after Gehry’s Easy Edges furniture. Perhaps cats have contour bias too.
Biophilia effect is the name given to describe the emotional, cognitive and physical benefits conferred by exposure to natural environments (William James Holt, Psychology, The Briefer Course). On its own, the term biophilia was first coined to describe being attracted to life and vitality, in the sense of a psychological orientation (The Anatomy of Human Destructiveness by Erich Fromm, and Biophilia by E.O. Wilson). In the context of design, biophilia effect refers to the use of people’s attraction to nature as a means of increasing aesthetic value of environments (Lidwell, et. al, Universal Principles of Design, p 36).
This example, cited in Universal Principles of Design, came from a redesign proposal for a hospital hallway. As an observer of just these images, I find this to be an example of the finding by Stephen Kaplan, that the biophilia effect does not require a real environment, rather, that imagery of such views – such as these digital renderings in a design proposal – can suffice. (“The Restorative Benefits of Nature: Toward an Integrative Framework”, Journal of Environmental Psychology, 1995, vol. 15, p. 169–182.) Imagine the thrill of this client to learn they would not have to rebuild their hospital to take advantage of these ideas!
Now look closely at the photos below. These photos depict the everyday office views at Microsoft Corporation in Redmond, WA.
What’s astonishing to me is these are snapshots I took at work, and are 100% real world, 24/7 nature bonanza.
Further on the subject of nature views, Don Norman says of the notion of Zen View, “If there is a beautiful view, don’t spoil it by building huge windows that gape incessantly at it. Instead, put the windows which look onto the view at places of transition-along paths, in hallways, in entryways, on stairs, between rooms.” (Don Norman, Emotional Design, Why We Love or Hate Things, 2003, pp 110-113). But Norman seems to taken in by the biophilia effect himself instead describing what I’ll call biophilia payoff: gazing at the forever pleasure of nature’s ever-changing visage.
Biophilia in human creativity is broader than the biophilia effect in design. Here is a different interpretation of biophilia from the great musician and artist Bjork.
Bjork releases her ‘Biophilia’ album in 2011, along with a digital interactive experience. The New York Times reviewed the experience and described it as breaking new ground: “essentially turns an album into a sort of audiovisual game, delivering a miniature production studio into the world’s willing hands.”
Ever ambitious as an artist, the album and accompanying digital work centers on the idea that biophilia is “the love for nature in all her manifestations from the tiniest organism, to the greatest red giant floating in the farthest realm of the universe”, as introduced by David Attenborough. “With biophilia, comes the restless curiousity, an urge to investigate and discover the elusive places where we meet nature.”
Behold, the Miele “Pure Suction” Compact Vacuum. I love things about it and hate things about it.
To say that I love this object (“Miele”) is wildly overstating my affection towards it, but I will say it is a fine sucker of dust, dirt, and hair. A lot of other vacuums have critical flaws, from poor suction to incredibly heavy, and frankly, they blow.
I moved in, and there it was. I don’t love carpet but I do like clean carpet, so I soon found myself looking for a lost user guide. It is a testament to Miele that I did not need one, for the 80/20 rule of operation was in effect.
Miele exhibits proper adherence to important design principles. To begin, the unit is unmistakably a vacuum cleaner. In terms of overall design, its ancestral lineage can be traced clearly to the very first vacuum cleaners which surged from the primordial froth, liberating Betty Friedan’s people. It has a head on a stick, and a body trailing behind. Unlike a Dyson product, which does not look like a snake pulling a space capsule, the Miele maintains design consistency with its forebears.
Overall, Miele works very well. It is very light, and it is very quiet. And wow, can it suck. Form follows function. On my first pass, I was able to vacuum the heck out of my room. This was after I wrestled it out of the supply closet, difficult because it is a two-piece unit. The vacuum body is separate from what is clearly, in terms of constraints, the business end, which I learned is the “telescoping suction wand”.
The power cord is stored within the compact vacuum unit, the plug clearly visible, which afforded grasping and pulling on it to extend the cord and plug it into a wall socket. I was pleased the plug did not require a hidden release switch to extend the cord, an unexpected constraint that could have resulted in a broken fingernail.
Miele exhibits visible features beyond its core identity. These would be to provide priority visibility to the key functions of turning it on/off, and extending/retracting its sinuous black power cord from its candy-colored shell. Thus, having never used it before, I was immediately able to grasp Miele by its head-end, plug it in, and turn it on.
The operations of power and the cord retractor are aided by a team of affordances. The two priority features flank the body of the vacuum, aided by large gray button surfaces. Sensibly, the retraction button is proximal to the side it lives on. No driving into the gas station on the wrong side with this vacuum. The big buttons are further afforded by icons meant to be universal in nature – the retractor button sports an illustration of a three-pronged plug and coiled cord, while the power button features the ever-universal straight line through a circle? In any event, I recognize the plug, so by my keen power of deduction, I know the other.
Miele is the top-of-the-line vacuum because it sucks the heck out of the aforementioned grime, and, it has a great mechanism for retracting the cord. One of the irrational fears I have is that the cord will retract with such speed the plug would whip around like the snake it resembles, and batter my hand as I depress the retraction button. That has never happened, and I suspect significant design resources went into constraining that possible effect.
However, in the drive for more features and market share, it is as if a secondary design team was given the at-bat. Miele has a “system” for increasing and decreasing the suction of the unit and accounting for hard vs carpeted flooring. To change the function of one of these (I’m not sure which) there is a rotating dial with inscrutable icons for the levels. Ah, but if you look closely, someone has aided the odd mapping of the dial. The leftmost setting has been labeled with the word “min”, and the rightmost setting has “max”. I like the attempt to map the functions, but I’m still not sure what is being min’d and max’d.
Beyond the dial, the machine does not offer feedback to confirm the setting is what you want. I have a workaround, I listen to changes in the sound of the vacuum to determine its state. The lower the pitch, the less it sucks. That’s the mental model I have developed for it. I am pretty sure that model is wrong, because it still doesn’t work.
But wait, there’s one more switch on the head of the snake. I think one way is for hard flooring and the other for carpet, but when it is depressed this particular way, it sucks for dear life to the carpet AND to the hard floor. So that’s what that does?
These last two functions, unhelpfully afforded by beautifully legible graphics of uncertain meaning, are actually quite problematic because of Miele’s excellent suction. When the settings are improperly adjusted, which is always, I have to vigorously push and pull the wand end and it is not easy to move it along the surface.
Finally, Miele continues to offer one of the worst design features in vacuums. In hiding it’s interior components, the dust bag for the unit is entirely enclosed and hidden from view, just as it is with many other vacuums. That means I have no idea when to change the bag, and lie awake at night wondering when the bag is going to tear open and blow me away in a vortex of dirt, dust, and hair. Sounds like modern art.
If I have not given adequate space to an object I hate, here is the HVAC controller in my little bedroom. I’m not sure if this controls just my room or if I’m torturing my roommate with my preference for an average room temperature of 24C. That is 75F to you, mate.
I operate it solely by pushing the down and up arrows.
After that, I am lost. You can push the buttons to set the time, which would matter if the unit knowing the time meant something significant. But when you push “Pgm”, the ability to control a target temperature is lacking, even though you can choose a day of the week and time. Curious. This constitutes a hated object, in which hate is much too strong, but nevertheless, I disdain to learn it.
This is my Bagatelle leather skirt in oxblood. It is perfect. It has pockets, and it is pull-on. It is high-waisted. It is warm. It is chic. It is everything.
I also got it for $15 on eBay. So it is cheap, which makes me feel smug.
So you can see, there is a lot of emotional resonance with this object.
This is my chair in the first office I use at work. I used to conduct all my design research sessions here and decorated the shelf so it would not look so sad behind me. I have adjusted my desk height so that I can sit with my feet flat on the ground. I’ve also rotated the armrests 180 degrees so they point backward. I hate armrests, I think they are pointless on office chairs and just get in the way of the table when I’m trying to type.
This is the office chair in my second office space. I recently commandeered this office because I needed a quieter space to conduct my sessions. I am on a weekly cadence which means I conduct a study every week and it is killing me. Note that this chair (which I scavenged from a deserted office space) also has armrests rotated 180 degrees backward and that for some reason its armrests are all scuffed like that. Why?
This is Big Boss’s office space. You can tell she is the Big Boss because of the number of chairs in her office.
This is a seat aboard Bus 245, which picks me up outside my condo and drops me off on campus – Microsoft and Bellevue are intertwined. Its a great bus except that the schedule doesn’t know when it is going to be late. It knows the bus is late when it doesn’t show up when its supposed to. That’s not helpful.
This is the counter height dining chair that is used as a bedstand in the room where I stay here in Bellevue. I wish it were the chair I use to study in, which is just below this one.
This is the chair I use to study. It’s the only chair I have here. I could buy a new chair but what would be the point since the table I use for a desk is a plastic utility table? I rest my case.
This is one of the chairs for my dining table back in good old Brooklyn. The table and chairs are of a nice generic Danish modern design. I reupholstered these chairs with Knoll fabric. There is a Knoll store in NYC and I spent hours looking at fabric swatches. This fabric is gorgeous, and it can withstand 1 million Wyzenbeek rubs. What, you don’t think so?
This is a loveseat my mother bought 40 years ago from a store in crazy rich Atherton, CA. It is cushioned in down and is totally useless for sitting on. The Asiatic print of the fabric is very appealing. It connotes privilege and fancy and is beloved by my mother and me. It’s possible we love it because the other loves it too.
This is a rain garden. It’s a strange idea for this recently arrived transplant to Seattle. But it’s not strange at all here, where it rains – a lot.
Rain is a big deal here, and rain runoff is also a big deal where the objective of Green Stormwater Infrastructure is to “welcome the rain – storing, draining, and cleaning it.”
The purpose of a rain garden is to slow up and clean polluted runoff from roads, roofs, etc. before all that dirty city rain can run off into the Puget Sound, Lake Washington, or any other body of water.
There’s another important reason rain gardens exist. Rainwater that runs into the city’s sewer system can cause sewage backups and flooding. Blech. To do their part, homeowners disconnect their drainage downspouts from the system and manage the runoff in cute garden features like the one above.
On a larger scale, the city of Seattle has committed to managing 700 million gallons of stormwater runoff using green infrastructure. One of the ways this is done is by creating rain runoff gardens on a large scale, also known as bioswales. Bioswales operate just like those little home rock gardens – storing, draining and cleaning the rain runoff before it is returned back to nature.
I chose these rain gardens as my one design idea because they are a great example of design solving a need, and so much more. They look great, are an avenue of personal expression, and a win for Mother Nature.