Reflecting on the digital...

I've been doing a lot of reflecting recently on digital vs. analog spaces and how the digital online space in particular is changing our interactions with technology and also with each other. There's a constant search for the next new innovation or revolutionary piece of technology, and we've been reconditioned to crave immediacy and satisfaction. There are physical buttons you can order on Amazon that are linked to your credit card that will automatically reorder things from groceries to gatorade to diapers and toilet paper. With a simple press of a button, your order is placed and shipped to you within a couple of days. Social media has also conditioned us to crave that immediacy; many people receive the world's latest news through the online spaces they occupy; we habitually check our email and online profiles for updates, messages, likes, etc. The technological revolution has placed us in a position that no other generation has seen before; we are moving so rapidly that we can't seem to stop.

A couple of months ago, I ordered Douglas Coupland's new book, The Age of Earthquakes. Douglas Coupland is one of my favorite authors (and also Canadian!) and he often talks about how technology is changing (for lack of a better term) the human condition. Here are some of my favorite pages from the book (although the whole thing is amazing and I highly recommend reading it):

Right: Proceleration (n.) The acceleration of acceleration. 

Right (gray box): Fact: The internet makes you smarter and more impatient. It makes you reject slower processes invented in times of less technology: travel agencies; phone calls; reference libraries; nightclubs. 

(I thought the right page was a big ironic)

So where am I going with all this?

I think the development of music is reflecting this rapid unstoppable acceleration. We have apparently reached a point where physical acoustic instruments have largely been exhausted, so we've moved into the digital space, where it's faster, easier and more widely accessible to "create" music. Thanks to technology, you can synthesize a piano [insert other instrument here] track fairly quickly--much quicker than going through the motions of actually learning how to play the piano [other instrument].

Traditional classical instruments have evolved over hundreds and hundreds of years to reach where they are today. You can trace many instruments' lineages all the way through to the medieval ages. I think that the process of learning these instruments reflects that reiteration and refining; it takes years and years and years to master one of these more "traditional" instruments.

On the other hand, due to our obsession with pushing soundscapes and rapidly creating something NEW, new age instruments are lacking that same identity. Yes, we might put a lot of time (and thought and iteration) into creating a "new" instrument or interface to play music, whether that sound is created through digital or analog means. However, these new instruments or interfaces aren't receiving the same opportunity to evolve and grow and root themselves in a history, because of our fascination with innovation and rapidity. I mean, classical instruments went through the iterative design process, just drawn out over hundreds of years. So we're being called to design and create new instruments/interfaces, and yet you can see these new interfaces often being dropped or left behind after only a few months or a few years of development.

All of this ties into what Professor Gurevich has said about finding an identity for our proposed designs and finding an established aesthetic or tradition to root it into. How do my initial ideas relate to art movements or already existing instruments? What do I want the sonic/visual aesthetic of my instrument to be? Do my designs leave space for the instrument to grow and develop? Does it require the user to develop a certain kind of skill? How can I challenge myself to push back against this rapid acceleration and reflect that in my design?