Inspired by the awesome Reflections show that is now on display at the Exploratorium, the Learning Studio offered a 3-hour workshop in which visitors built their own “Shiny, Sparkly, Something-or-Others”, as the title said.
This constituted an experiment for us in several ways, and a good first step into the kind of activities and interactions that we would like to start offering in the future.
First of all, it happened in parallel with a current show on the museum floor, and that alone allowed for adjacencies that were a source of inspiration for us, in developing the activity, and hopefully for the participants to the workshop, in coming up with their own creative ideas.
We also combined the workshop with an unusual two-week residency for artist Chris Bell, who had collaborated with us before. We thought he would be a great source of inspiration because of his previous work with lights and reflections off of common household objects, and proposed to him that he would be building and experimenting with an installation on the museum floor, right next to a gallery showcasing similar work by participants to our own workshop. Graciously, and it take a particularly selfless and generous artist to allow this, he accepted, and a great collaborations resulted once again.
So, this workshop started in the Learning Studio with a brief introduction to what we were going to do: essentially explore some of the aesthetic qualities of lights and reflections, and create our own expression of that.
Then we led the group onto the museum floor to have a chat with Chris, while he was starting to work on his installation. This was a great moment in which Chris introduced himself and his work as an artist, and had some very insightful words on his process of creation with such an ethereal medium, with a particular emphasis on knowing “when to stop”, which I think had a great and positive influence on the visitors’ work.
Then it was time to head back to the LS for an initial exploration, using just a light source and a simple sheet of Mylar, in order to start generating ideas, and to familiarize ourselves with what was possible and beautiful with this medium. After a while, we introduced, as usual, a host of different materials, all somehow reflective or translucent, as well as construction materials, wood, tape, motors, switches, etc.
The mood became very quiet and meditative, and the visitors got to work, and soon different avenues of thought took shape. I found it very interesting that often similar initial explorations led to very different end results. Likewise, as is often the case with our activities, the participants ranged both in age (from about 12 to older adults) and gender, and all seemed to be equally engaged in the activity.
Ideas were tried and discarded, problems were solved, and slowly each participant got to the point were they were satisfied with what they had built. At this point we took their creations, which were on independent “shelves”, and took them on the museum floor, where they became part of a collective Wall of Light, which stood on display for all museum visitors to see and appreciate for an amazing full two weeks.
And that concluded the first part of our exploration with light and with different kinds of interactions with the public. In the next days I will talk more about our next steps, which led to some interesting events!
Once again, two days of exploring light, reflections, mylar, mechanical movement, and caustics exemplified by one particularly playful and delightful final contraption. It’s a disco light!
You can read more about this activity in these posts.
“Failure is the pillar of success”
- Tibetan proverb
The next day we set the monks onto their next challenge: to construct a machine, or a kinetic contraption of some kind, based on some of the qualities of light that they had noticed the day before. During the previous day’s discussion about the light exploration exercise, we noticed that, while being extremely skilled debaters on a logical and analytical level, the monks had some trouble either noticing or talking about the aesthetic qualities of what they were seeing. This turned one of our preconceptions on its head: before leaving, we had a feeling that the monks might find the cardboard automata activity too mechanistic for their enlightened minds, and that they would be taken in by the inherent beauty of light reflections; the opposite happened. So, being mindful of their attitudes, we tried to emphasize that they should concentrate on the aesthetic (a word that doesn’t exist in Tibetan) qualities of light when thinking about their machines.
Another thing that surprised us is how quickly the monks come up with ideas that are creative, ingenious, and well formed. A few of them started by sketching out design ideas on their notebooks, while some others had an initial concept that they started, we would say, “prototyping”, by either modeling a certain motion or projected image with their hands, or building quick and limited versions of what they intended to ultimately realize.
By now, the monks have become much more comfortable and skilled at building. They approach the materials table with an air of purpose, and quickly scour it for the materials they need. They are also becoming much more comfortable flagging one of us down to ask for help, where to find materials, opinions on how to make something specific happen, and just to share their excitement at some of their discoveries.
At the beginning of the session, Mike made an introduction in which he talked, among other things, about the difference between low-tech, middle-tech, and high-tech, specifying that all three types of technologies are equally important as ways of learning through building, and that they could choose to use any of them in their contraptions. The monks took this to heart, and we had examples of all three:
Lobsang Dhondup made a contraption that is technically very simple, but very beautiful and ripe with meaning. His process was interesting and relatively unusual, in that he spent a very long time just playing with the materials, making observations, letting the quality of the reflections, and the interactions with the material (Mylar, in this case) “speak” to him and dictate what he was going to make. Initially he expressed frustration that he did not know what to do, did not have an idea for a machine. After being encouraged by us that what he was doing was exactly right, he made a number of observations about the way that light reflects, and how minute changes in light source and material positioning result in big changes in the image that it projected. Eventually he stumbled onto a reflected shape that reminded him of a lotus flower, and immediately knew what it was what he was going to do. This is the beautiful result.
Konchok Choephel and Tenzin Choegyal made an example of what we called “middle tech”: their contraption projects beautiful and multi-colored light by using a simple slow-moving motor to rotate a disc. Interestingly, this was a direct off-shoot of their previous explorations with Mylar in a cardboard tube. They also first built a prototype, using just two tubes and turning the disc with their hands to see if their concept would work. The final piece projected a dazzling light show on a surface, which they further modified by reflecting that off a piece of crumpled Mylar.
Finally, Tashi’s machine made use of a PicoCricket computer. We introduced these as a possible tool for the monks to use, but left it entirely up to them as to whether they wanted to incorporate them into a machine. We noticed before that Tashi’s creations are very much rooted in Buddhist philosophy, and this one was no different. He fashioned a selector, which would rotate between three possible choices: buddhist, scientist, or neutral. We then helped him program a cricket computer so that when a button was pressed the motor that spins the selector would start running, and when it was pressed again it would stop. The idea was that of a game, in which a person could close their eyes, press the button, and after a while press it again, and the machine would tell them which of the three they were! Of course, to keep with the “assignment”, he had to enclose it in a Mylar box, so that, when a light was shined on it, it would also project beautiful reflections on the ceiling.
Some of the monks’ choices surprised us for their creativity and playful spirit. Two monks decided to create a Mylar dish that could project beautiful reflections on the wall, and also double as a water boiler (for tea, maybe?). Others made a “peeking box”, lined with Mylar and filled with balls, the object of which was to trick observers so that they would not know how many balls were inside. Finally, Geshe Niyma made a machine that could be activated by either the wind, a motor and a switch, or a cricket, therefore combining low-, middle- and high-tech in the same machine.
Once again, these inspiring individuals surprised us with the insights they brought to the activity, their engagement, and humor!
Yesterday we started our exploration of light, reflection, and caustics, looking through an “aesthetic” lens. We started by asking the monks to place a small mirror on the wall, and stand to one side (away from the wall) with a flashlight. They made predictions about where the reflection would fall on the other side, then explained their reasoning before turning on the flashlight and testing their theories.
All developed initial theories, a few created crude measuring devices, and others made guesses. All were engaged in lively debate (as is natural for this group) before testing their theories.
Following the initial activity we handed each of them small sheets of Mylar (a highly reflective, flexible material), and rolled Mylar in a cardboard tube. They proceeded to explore the reflections generated by these materials when lit by their flashlight, and outdoors in the sunlight. Observations were made, new theories generated, and the session ended with a shared discussion about the highly complex, and beautiful reflections.
