Watch a New Virtual Reality Production of Shakespeare’s Hamlet: A Modern Take on a Classic Play

Often com­pared to The Tem­pest, Samuel Beck­et­t’s Endgame may have as much of Shakespeare’s Ham­let in it, though the author was unwill­ing to acknowl­edge the influ­ence to Theodor Adorno. Beck­et­t’s cen­tral char­ac­ter, the blind, aged Hamm, spends all of his time in a throne harangu­ing the oth­er three, in a gloomy place, The New York Times’ Brooks Atkin­son wrote, “some­where between life and death.” Hamm might have been the Dan­ish prince grown old and bit­ter, left with noth­ing but what Beck­ett called Shakespeare’s “fat greasy words.”

In any case, Ham­let has long been thought of as a pro­to­type of the absurd, a play where lit­tle hap­pens because its pro­tag­o­nist is too haunt­ed to have rela­tion­ships with the liv­ing or make deci­sions, a con­di­tion he com­plains about in scene after scene. Trau­ma, exis­ten­tial paral­y­sis, crip­pling doubt punc­tu­at­ed by fits of rage and violence—these are the mak­ings of the 20th cen­tu­ry anti-hero. If the play has a clas­si­cal hero, a man of action and resolve, it is, absurd­ly, a dead man, Hamlet’s father, who testi­ly declares his pur­pose in his final speech, “to whet thy almost blunt­ed pur­pose.”

Should Ham­let be turned into an immer­sive VR and aug­ment­ed real­i­ty expe­ri­ence, allow­ing view­ers to inhab­it a char­ac­ter’s point of view, they might not opt to see things as the moody, depres­sive, speechi­fy­ing prince. In Ham­let 360: Thy Father’s Spir­it, we instead get to inhab­it the ghost, who only appears in the play a hand­ful of times but still fills every scene with his glow­er­ing pres­ence. The 60-minute VR “mod­ern adap­ta­tion” is a co-pro­duc­tion of Boston’s Com­mon­wealth Shake­speare Com­pa­ny and Google.

“Both extreme­ly long by the stan­dards of vir­tu­al real­i­ty and extreme­ly short by the stan­dards of Ham­let,” writes Eliz­a­beth Har­ris at The New York Times, the film “can be watched in 3‑D using a V.R. head­set or in two dimen­sions on a desk­top or mobile device” (see it above). On a vast, dark­ened set clut­tered with fine but shab­by fur­nish­ings in heaps, glow­ing lamps, a bath­tub, and a car, actors per­form con­densed scenes while we, as ghost, freely roam about, view­ing the action in three dimen­sions, a device intend­ed to give the view­er “a sense of agency and urgency as an omni­scient observ­er, guide and par­tic­i­pant,” the pro­duc­tion notes.

The film’s cre­ators, Har­ris writes, “hope that beyond the fresh expe­ri­ence it pro­vides, it will also serve as a tool to bring great the­ater to wider audiences—and bring big­ger audi­ences to the­ater.” It may have that effect, though one might feel it priv­i­leges dig­i­tal effects over the tru­ly immer­sive, full expe­ri­ence of Shakespeare’s “fat greasy words.” It’s hard to think the “great Shake­speare­an” Beck­ett would approve, but he found lit­tle to his lik­ing.

Younger, less can­tan­ker­ous audi­ences might, how­ev­er. “Many young people’s first expe­ri­ence of Shake­speare is not all that great,” says direc­tor Steven Maler. Ham­let 360 allows the Com­mon­wealth Shake­speare Com­pa­ny to “scale up” their mis­sion to “tru­ly democ­ra­tize Shake­speare and the­ater.”  Expe­ri­ence it for your­self above or on YouTube and learn more at Boston’s WGBH, who recent­ly pre­miered the film. The actors “deliv­er pow­er­ful per­for­mances,” the PBS sta­tion writes, “that bring the play for­ward to today, mak­ing it both cur­rent and time­less.”

via The New York Times

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Shake­speare Cours­es: Primers on the Bard from Oxford, Har­vard, Berke­ley & More

Google Gives You a 360° View of the Per­form­ing Arts, From the Roy­al Shake­speare Com­pa­ny to the Paris Opera Bal­let

30 Days of Shake­speare: One Read­ing of the Bard Per Day, by The New York Pub­lic Library, on the 400th Anniver­sary of His Death

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Nick Cave Answers the Hotly Debated Question: Will Artificial Intelligence Ever Be Able to Write a Great Song?

Pho­to by Bled­dyn Butch­er via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

Spike Jonze’s AI love sto­ry Her offered a sort of an answer to one of the crit­i­cal ques­tions posed about Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence: Can machines feel love? Maybe, and maybe deeply, in a cer­tain sense, but maybe not for just one per­son and not for very long before they take off to explore lim­it­less oth­ers, which makes them sound like very seduc­tive but also very shal­low lovers.

Maybe it helps to keep that metaphor in mind when we read Nick Cave’s answer to a ques­tion a Sloven­ian fan posed in the Birth­day Party/Bad Seeds/Grinderman singer’s bru­tal­ly ten­der newslet­ter, The Red Right Hand. “Do you think,” asks Peter from Ljubl­jana, “AI will ever be able to write a good song?” Cave begins with a con­ces­sion: AI might “pro­duce a song that makes us feel,” and maybe “more intense­ly than any human song­writer could do.”

And yet, after list­ing a num­ber of human exam­ples, from Nir­vana to Prince to Iggy Pop to Nina Simone, Cave describes what makes their abil­i­ties alien to a machine mind:

We go to songs to make us feel some­thing – hap­py, sad, sexy, home­sick, excit­ed or what­ev­er – but this is not all a song does. What a great song makes us feel is a sense of awe. There is a rea­son for this. A sense of awe is almost exclu­sive­ly pred­i­cat­ed on our lim­i­ta­tions as human beings. It is entire­ly to do with our audac­i­ty as humans to reach beyond our poten­tial.

AI can­not die, at least in the sense we under­stand it. Nor is it con­strained by painful phys­i­cal lim­i­ta­tions, nor privy to fleet­ing phys­i­cal plea­sures. “Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence, for all its unlim­it­ed poten­tial, sim­ply doesn’t have this capac­i­ty. How could it? And this is the essence of tran­scen­dence.” The holy or har­row­ing knowl­edge of fini­tude and fragili­ty, love and death and grief.

Anoth­er way to state the case comes from the most mov­ing of Cave’s fan let­ter answers, in which he con­soles a bereaved fan in Ver­mont with a descrip­tion of his own grief over the death of his son.

Maybe AI could write the sen­tence, “dread grief trails bright phan­toms in its wake.” But it could not write it from the heart of a bereaved par­ent who learns that “grief and love are for­ev­er inter­twined,” or from a place where super­nat­ur­al beliefs may be untrue yet still have super­nat­ur­al pow­er. Cave’s descrip­tion of his grief is also a descrip­tion of tran­scen­dence, of going beyond what is pos­si­ble to find what is time­less.

Like ideas, these spir­its speak of pos­si­bil­i­ty. Fol­low your ideas, because on the oth­er side of the idea is change and growth and redemp­tion. Cre­ate your spir­its. Call to them. Will them alive. Speak to them. It is their impos­si­ble and ghost­ly hands that draw us back to the world from which we were jet­ti­soned; bet­ter now and unimag­in­ably changed.

In answer to Peter’s ques­tion, he con­cludes with the poet­ic author­i­ty of a writer of great songs: “AI would have the capac­i­ty to write a good song, but not a great one. It lacks the nerve.”

Read Nick Cave’s full response here. And while there, sign up for his free newslet­ter.

via Austin Kleon

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Lis­ten to Nick Cave’s Lec­ture on the Art of Writ­ing Sub­lime Love Songs (1999)

Ani­mat­ed Sto­ries Writ­ten by Tom Waits, Nick Cave & Oth­er Artists, Read by Dan­ny Devi­to, Zach Gal­i­fi­anakis & More

Nick Cave Nar­rates an Ani­mat­ed Film about the Cat Piano, the Twist­ed 18th Cen­tu­ry Musi­cal Instru­ment Designed to Treat Men­tal Ill­ness

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Vintage Geological Maps Get Turned Into 3D Topographical Wonders

What good is an old-fash­ioned map in the age of apps?

One need not be a moun­taineer, geo­sci­en­tist, or civ­il engi­neer to get the topo­graph­i­cal lay of the land with a speed and accu­ra­cy that would have blown Lewis and Clark’s minds’ right through the top of the lynx and otter top­pers they took to wear­ing after their stan­dard issue army lids wore out.

There’s still some­thing to be said for the old ways, though.

Graph­ic design­er Scott Rein­hard has all the lat­est tech­no­log­i­cal advances at his dis­pos­al, but it took com­bin­ing them with hun­dred-year-old maps for him to get a tru­ly 3‑D appre­ci­a­tion for loca­tions he has vis­it­ed around the Unit­ed States, as well as his child­hood home.

A son of Indi­ana, Rein­hard told Colossal’s Kate Sierzputows­ki that he found some Grand Teton-type excite­ment in the noto­ri­ous­ly flat Hoosier State once he start­ed mar­ry­ing offi­cial nation­al geospa­tial data to vin­tage map designs:

 When I began ren­der­ing the ele­va­tion data for the state, the sto­ry of the land emerged. The glac­i­ers that reced­ed across the north­ern half of the state after the last ice age scraped and gouged and shaped the land in a way that is spec­tac­u­lar­ly clear…I felt empow­ered by the abil­i­ty to col­lect and process the vast amounts of infor­ma­tion freely avail­able, and cre­ate beau­ti­ful images.

(The gov­ern­ment shut-down has not dam­aged the accu­ra­cy of Reinhard’s maps, but the U.S. Geo­log­i­cal Survey’s web­site does warn the pub­lic that the effects of any earth­quakes or oth­er force majeure occur­ring dur­ing this black-out peri­od will not imme­di­ate­ly be reflect­ed in their topos.)

(Nor are they able to respond to any inquiries, which puts a damper on hol­i­day week­end plans for mak­ing salt dough maps, anoth­er Hoosier state fave, at least in 1974…)

As writer Jason Kot­tke notes, the shad­ows the moun­tains cast on the mar­gins of Reinhard’s maps are a par­tic­u­lar­ly effec­tive opti­cal trick.

You can see more of Reinhard’s dig­i­tal­ly enhanced maps from the late 19th and ear­ly 20th-cen­tu­ry, and order prints in his online shop.

via Kot­tke/Colos­sal

Relat­ed Con­tent:

View and Down­load Near­ly 60,000 Maps from the U.S. Geo­log­i­cal Sur­vey (USGS)

Down­load 67,000 His­toric Maps (in High Res­o­lu­tion) from the Won­der­ful David Rum­sey Map Col­lec­tion

The His­to­ry of Car­tog­ra­phy, “the Most Ambi­tious Overview of Map Mak­ing Ever Under­tak­en,” Is Free Online

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  See her onstage in New York City in Feb­ru­ary as host of  The­ater of the Apes book-based vari­ety show, Necro­mancers of the Pub­lic Domain. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

The “David Bowie Is” Exhibition Is Now Available as an Augmented Reality Mobile App That’s Narrated by Gary Oldman: For David Bowie’s Birthday Today

Maybe it’s too soon to divide pop music his­to­ry into “Before David Bowie” and “After David Bowie,” but two years after Bowie’s death, it’s impos­si­ble to imag­ine pop music his­to­ry with­out him. Yet, if there ever did come a time when future gen­er­a­tions did not know who David Bowie is, they could do far worse than hear Gary Old­man tell the sto­ry. Luck­i­ly for them, and us, Old­man nar­rates the new David Bowie aug­ment­ed real­i­ty app, which launch­es today on what would have been the legend’s 72nd birth­day.

Bowie and Old­man were both born and raised in South Lon­don. They became friends in the 80s, starred togeth­er in Julian Schnabel’s 1996 film Basquiat, and col­lab­o­rat­ed on the 2013 video for “The Next Day,” in which Old­man plays a sleazy, duck­tailed priest. As much the con­sum­mate changeling in his medi­um as Bowie, Old­man brings a fel­low craftsman’s appre­ci­a­tion to his role as docent, with­out any sense of star-struck­ness. “I see him less as ‘David Bowie,’” he once remarked, “and more as Dave from Brix­ton and I’m Gary from New Cross.”

The app is based on the sen­sa­tion­al 2013 Vic­to­ria & Albert muse­um exhi­bi­tion David Bowie Is, which trav­eled the world for five years before end­ing at the Brook­lyn Muse­um this past sum­mer. Focused on “the colour­ful, the­atri­cal side of Bowie,” Tim Jonze writes at The Guardian, the show drew “a stag­ger­ing 2m vis­i­tors” with its stun­ning breadth of cos­tumes, props, sketch­es, lyrics sheets, film, and pho­tog­ra­phy. The dig­i­tal ver­sion intends, how­ev­er, not only to “recre­ate the expe­ri­ence of going to the exhi­bi­tion,” but “to bet­ter it.”

Learn how “Dave from Brix­ton” (or Davy Jones, before a Mon­kee of the same name came along) made “sketch­es propos­ing out­fits for his teenage band the Delta Lemons (brown waist­coats with jeans).” See how that young aspir­ing croon­er learned to love “hikinuki—the Japan­ese method of quick cos­tume change that he exper­i­ment­ed with dur­ing his Aladdin Sane shows at Radio City Music Hall.” The exhi­bi­tion bril­liant­ly ful­filled his own wish­es for his lega­cy. “As Bowie him­self puts it,” Jonze writes, “he didn’t want to be a radio, but a colour tele­vi­sion.”

Bowie prob­a­bly would have been pleased to have his friend Gary host­ing his vari­ety show. But does the AR app match, or bet­ter, the real thing? It’s “no match for see­ing the cos­tumes in real life,” or see­ing Bowie him­self in the flesh. But for the mil­lions of peo­ple who nev­er got the chance—a cat­e­go­ry that will soon include everyone—it may cur­rent­ly be the best way to expe­ri­ence the musician/actor/writer/one-man-zeitgeist’s career in three dimen­sions. See a pre­view of the app from Rolling Stone, above, and down­load the AR David Bowie Is for iPhone and Android via these links. The cost is $7.99.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Stream David Bowie’s Com­plete Discog­ra­phy in a 19-Hour Playlist: From His Very First Record­ings to His Last

The Thin White Duke: A Close Study of David Bowie’s Dark­est Char­ac­ter

David Bowie Memo­ri­al­ized in Tra­di­tion­al Japan­ese Wood­block Prints

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

A 3D Animated History of Paris: Take a Visual Journey from Ancient Times to 1900

“And this too,” mus­es Mar­low as he floats down the Thames in Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Dark­ness, “has been one of the dark places on earth.” Whole the­ses have been writ­ten on the mean­ing of this state­ment. We can sim­ply take it to mean that before Lon­don was Lon­don, it was just anoth­er obscure, hum­ble town of ordi­nary farm­ers and arti­sans. That is, before the Romans came. So too Paris.

One of the world’s most famous cities got its start as a clus­ter of hum­ble huts, walled com­pounds, and low, wood­en build­ings with thatched roofs and fenced-in pastures—the set­tle­ment of a Celtic tribe known as the Parisii, who began inhab­it­ing the region some­time in the 3rd cen­tu­ry, BCE. In the first cen­tu­ry, the Romans con­quered and set­tled what would become the Left Bank, and began to build an impres­sive, pros­per­ous city with a forum, tem­ples, bath­hous­es, and the­aters.

The Roman town was first called Lute­tia (or Luti­cia Pari­sio­rum) and the cen­tral forum, in French, the Forum de Lutèce. Chris­tian­i­ty came in the 3rd cen­tu­ry, sup­pos­ed­ly by way of Saint Denis, whom the Romans behead­ed on the hill lat­er known as Mons Mar­tyrum (“Hill of the Martyrs”)—later still, Mont­martre. Then came the Franks in the 5th cen­tu­ry, estab­lish­ing the Merovin­gian dynasty under Clo­vis in 508 and bring­ing with them Frank­ish speech, and lat­er the Fran­cien dialect of Île-de-France.

The rest—in broad out­line or fine detail—you may know, but if not, like all city’s his­to­ries, it is worth get­ting acquaint­ed. As you do, watch the video above from Das­sault Sys­temes’ Paris 3D, an “inter­ac­tive jour­ney through time” that strips away hun­dreds of years of his­to­ry to reveal vir­tu­al mod­els of the city dur­ing the peri­ods above and through the Mid­dle Ages, French Rev­o­lu­tion, and the 1889 World’s Fair, presided over by the just-built Eif­fel Tow­er.

The project “required the work of over 40 peo­ple, includ­ing numer­ous experts about Paris’s his­to­ry, for more than two years.” By 2013, it cov­ered the city’s “18,000 list­ed mon­u­ments” with a web­site, free iPad app, and aug­ment­ed real­i­ty book. Unfor­tu­nate­ly, the fea­tures of its web appli­ca­tion seem to have been dis­abled and its app seems unavail­able, at least in the U.S. Still—like the vir­tu­al 3d videos of Rome we’ve fea­tured recent­ly—the pro­mo video above offers some impres­sive, beau­ti­ful­ly-ren­dered recon­struc­tions of the city one-thou­sand, fif­teen hun­dred, and over two thou­sand years ago.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Take Ani­mat­ed Vir­tu­al Real­i­ty Tours of Ancient Rome at Its Archi­tec­tur­al Peak (Cir­ca 320 AD)

Take a 3D Vir­tu­al Tour of the Sis­tine Chapel, St. Peter’s Basil­i­ca and Oth­er Art-Adorned Vat­i­can Spaces

Prize-Win­ning Ani­ma­tion Lets You Fly Through 17th Cen­tu­ry Lon­don

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness.

Artificial Intelligence Creates Realistic Photos of People, None of Whom Actually Exist

Each day in the 2010s, it seems, brings anoth­er star­tling devel­op­ment in the field of arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence — a field wide­ly writ­ten off not all that long ago as a dead end. But now AI looks just as alive as the peo­ple you see in these pho­tographs, despite the fact that none of them have ever lived, and it’s ques­tion­able whether we can even call the images that depict them “pho­tographs” at all. All of them come, in fact, as prod­ucts of a state-of-the-art gen­er­a­tive adver­sar­i­al net­work, a type of arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence algo­rithm that pits mul­ti­ple neur­al net­works against each oth­er in a kind of machine-learn­ing match.

These neur­al net­works have, it seems, com­pet­ed their way to gen­er­at­ing images of fab­ri­cat­ed human faces that gen­uine humans have trou­ble dis­tin­guish­ing from images of the real deal. Their archi­tec­ture, described in a paper by the Nvidia researchers who devel­oped it, “leads to an auto­mat­i­cal­ly learned, unsu­per­vised sep­a­ra­tion of high-lev­el attrib­ut­es (e.g., pose and iden­ti­ty when trained on human faces) and sto­chas­tic vari­a­tion in the gen­er­at­ed images (e.g., freck­les, hair), and it enables intu­itive, scale-spe­cif­ic con­trol of the syn­the­sis.” What they’ve come up with, in oth­er words, has made it not just more pos­si­ble than ever to cre­ate fake faces, but made those faces more cus­tomiz­able than ever as well.

“Of course, the abil­i­ty to cre­ate real­is­tic AI faces rais­es trou­bling ques­tions. (Not least of all, how long until stock pho­to mod­els go out of work?)” writes James Vin­cent at The Verge. “Experts have been rais­ing the alarm for the past cou­ple of years about how AI fak­ery might impact soci­ety. These tools could be used for mis­in­for­ma­tion and pro­pa­gan­da and might erode pub­lic trust in pic­to­r­i­al evi­dence, a trend that could dam­age the jus­tice sys­tem as well as pol­i­tics.”


But still, “you can’t doc­tor any image in any way you like with the same fideli­ty. There are also seri­ous con­straints when it comes to exper­tise and time. It took Nvidia’s researchers a week train­ing their mod­el on eight Tes­la GPUs to cre­ate these faces.”

Though “a run­ning bat­tle between AI fak­ery and image authen­ti­ca­tion for decades to come” seems inevitable, the cur­rent abil­i­ty of com­put­ers to cre­ate plau­si­ble faces cer­tain­ly fas­ci­nates, espe­cial­ly when com­pared to their abil­i­ty just four years ago, the hazy black-and-white fruits of which appear just above. Put that against the grid of faces at the top of the post, which shows how Nvidi­a’s sys­tem can com­bine the fea­tures of the faces on one axis with the fea­tures on the oth­er, and you’ll get a sense of the tech­no­log­i­cal accel­er­a­tion involved. Such a process could well be used, for exam­ple, to give you a sense of what your future chil­dren might look like. But how long until it puts con­vinc­ing visions of mov­ing, speak­ing, even think­ing human beings before our eyes?

via Petapix­el

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Sci­en­tists Cre­ate a New Rem­brandt Paint­ing, Using a 3D Print­er & Data Analy­sis of Rembrandt’s Body of Work

Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Writes a Piece in the Style of Bach: Can You Tell the Dif­fer­ence Between JS Bach and AI Bach?

Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Pro­gram Tries to Write a Bea­t­les Song: Lis­ten to “Daddy’s Car”

Google Launch­es a Free Course on Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence: Sign Up for Its New “Machine Learn­ing Crash Course”

Google Launch­es Three New Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence Exper­i­ments That Could Be God­sends for Artists, Muse­ums & Design­ers

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Researchers Recreate the Sounds Worshippers Heard in the Mosque of Cordoba Over 1,200 Years Ago

As we know from con­ver­sa­tions in sub­way tun­nels or singing in the show­er, dif­fer­ent kinds of spaces and build­ing mate­ri­als alter the qual­i­ty of a sound. It’s a sub­ject near and dear to archi­tectsmusi­cians, and com­posers. The rela­tion­ship between space and sound also cen­tral­ly occu­pies the field of “Acoustic Arche­ol­o­gy.” But here, an unusu­al prob­lem presents itself. How can we know how music, voice, and envi­ron­men­tal sound behaves in spaces that no longer exist?

More specif­i­cal­ly, writes EurekAltert!, the ques­tion that faced researchers at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Seville was “how did words or the rain sound inside the Mosque of Cor­do­ba in the time of Abd al-Rah­man I?” The founder of an Iber­ian Mus­lim dynasty began con­struc­tion on the Mosque of Cor­do­ba in the 780s. In the hun­dreds of years since, it under­went sev­er­al expan­sions and, lat­er, major ren­o­va­tions after it became the Cathe­dral of Cor­do­ba in the 13th cen­tu­ry.

The archi­tec­ture of the 8th cen­tu­ry build­ing is lost to his­to­ry, and so, it would seem, is its care­ful sound design. “Unlike frag­ments of tools or shards of pot­tery,” Atlas Obscu­ra’s Jes­si­ca Leigh Hes­ter notes, “sounds don’t lodge them­selves in the soil.” Archeo-acousti­cians do not have recourse to the mate­r­i­al arti­facts arche­ol­o­gists rely on in their recon­struc­tions of the past. But, giv­en the tech­no­log­i­cal devel­op­ments in reverb sim­u­la­tion and audio soft­ware, these sci­en­tists can nonethe­less approx­i­mate the sounds of ancient spaces.

In this case, Uni­ver­si­ty of Seville’s Rafael Suárez and his col­lab­o­ra­tors in the research group “Archi­tec­ture, Her­itage and Sus­tain­abil­i­ty” col­lect­ed impulse responses—recordings of reverberation—from the cur­rent cathe­dral. “From there, they used soft­ware to recon­struct the inter­nal archi­tec­ture of the mosque dur­ing four dif­fer­ent phas­es of con­struc­tion and ren­o­va­tion.… Next, they pro­duced aural­iza­tions, or sound files repli­cat­ing what wor­ship­pers would have heard.”

To hear what late-8th cen­tu­ry Span­ish Mus­lims would have, “researchers used soft­ware to mod­el how the archi­tec­ture would change the same snip­pet of a record­ed salat, or dai­ly prayer. In the first con­fig­u­ra­tion, the prayer sounds full-bod­ied and sonorous; in the mod­el that reflects the mosque’s last ren­o­va­tion, the same prayer echoes as though it was recit­ed deep inside a cave.” All of those ren­o­va­tions, in oth­er words, destroyed the son­ic engi­neer­ing of the mosque.

As the authors write in a paper recent­ly pub­lished in Applied Acoustics, “the enlarge­ment inter­ven­tions failed to take the func­tion­al aspect of the mosque and gave the high­est pri­or­i­ty to main­ly the aes­thet­ic aspect.” In the sim­u­la­tion of the mosque as it sound­ed in the 780s, sound was intel­li­gi­ble all over the build­ing. Lat­er con­struc­tion added what the researchers call “acoustic shad­ow zones” where lit­tle can be heard but echo.

Unlike Hagia Sofia, the Byzan­tine cathe­dral-turned-mosque, which retained its basic design over the course of almost 1500 years, and thus its basic sound design, the Mosque-Cathe­dral of Cor­do­ba was so altered archi­tec­tural­ly that a “sig­nif­i­cant dete­ri­o­ra­tion of the acoustic con­di­tions” result­ed, the authors claim. The mosque’s many remain­ing visu­al ele­ments would be famil­iar to 8th cen­tu­ry atten­dees, writes Hes­ter, includ­ing “gilt cal­lig­ra­phy and intri­cate tiles… and hun­dreds of columns—made from jasper, onyx, mar­ble, and oth­er stones sal­vaged from Roman ruins.” But the “acoustic land­scape” of the space would be unrec­og­niz­able.

The spe­cif­ic sounds of a space are essen­tial to mak­ing “a place feel like itself.” Some­thing to con­sid­er the next time you’re plan­ning a major home ren­o­va­tion.

via Atlas Obscu­ra

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear the Hagia Sophia’s Awe-Inspir­ing Acoustics Get Recre­at­ed with Com­put­er Sim­u­la­tions, and Let Your­self Get Trans­port­ed Back to the Mid­dle Ages

The Same Song Sung in 15 Places: A Won­der­ful Case Study of How Land­scape & Archi­tec­ture Shape the Sounds of Music

David Byrne: How Archi­tec­ture Helped Music Evolve

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness.

Historic Console Used to Record “Stairway to Heaven” and Other Rock Classics Goes Up for Auction Today

The amount of mon­ey one is will­ing to spend—should one have amounts of money—for a vin­tage record­ing con­sole will vary great­ly depend­ing on who one is. The aver­age per­son will see an enor­mous, heavy, wonky, wood and met­al space hog with no appar­ent pur­pose. The musi­cian, engi­neer, pro­duc­er, or stu­dio own­er, on the oth­er hand, will see a fine­ly-tuned instru­ment, whose pre­amps, EQs, com­pres­sors, meters, and cir­cuit­ry promise worlds of son­ic warmth and depth.

In the case of one par­tic­u­lar record­ing con­sole, the so-called “Helio­cen­tric Helios Con­sole,” every­one will see a piece of music his­to­ry, one that right­ly belongs in a muse­um on pub­lic view. Such a fate is unlike­ly for this arti­fact, which goes on sale today at auc­tion house Bon­hams in Lon­don. It will end up in some well-heeled pri­vate hands, fetch­ing a hefty sum for rea­sons far beyond its clas­sic engi­neer­ing.

“Songs and albums record­ed on this bespoke con­sole and its orig­i­nal parts rank among some of the most rec­og­niz­able and best-loved pieces of music in exis­tence, and have result­ed in Gram­mys, Brit Awards and mul­ti­ple num­ber one spots,” says Bonham’s Claire Tole-Mole. “This con­sole is a piece of Britain’s mod­ern cul­tur­al his­to­ry.” Actu­al­ly an amal­gam of two dif­fer­ent his­toric con­soles, com­bined in 1996, the Island Record sec­tion of the mix­ing desk was used by Led Zep­pelin to record IV, the album fea­tur­ing their most famous song, “Stair­way to Heav­en.”

This tan­ta­liz­ing bit is only a taste of the HeliosCen­tric console’s exten­sive prove­nance. Bob Mar­ley record­ed Catch a Fire and Burnin’ on the machine, Jim­my Cliff record­ed “Many Rivers to Cross”; Eric Clapton’s “After Mid­night” emerged from the con­sole, as did songs and albums made by George Har­ri­son, Steve Win­wood, Mick Fleet­wood, Steven Stills, Jimi Hen­drix, Ron­nie Wood, David Bowie, Free, The Rolling Stones, Sly Stone, Har­ry Nils­son, Cat Stevens, Jeff Beck, Mott the Hoople, Hum­ble Pie, Paul Weller, Super­grass, Sia, KT Tun­stall, Squeeze, the Pet Shop Boys, Keane, and Dido… among many more.

The num­ber of top-notch artists who have used one or both parts of the con­sole is aston­ish­ing, and its com­bin­ing also pro­vides devo­tees of rock his­to­ry with a great sto­ry: the founder of Helios Elec­tron­ics him­self, Dick Swet­ten­ham, who for­mer­ly worked at Abbey Road, per­son­al­ly con­sult­ed on the con­struc­tion of the new con­sole, which was put togeth­er by Elvis Costel­lo and Squeeze’s Chris Dif­ford. You can read the machine’s full his­to­ry at Bon­hams, as great a sto­ry as you’re ever like­ly to hear about a piece of spe­cial­ized stu­dio equip­ment the size of a small car. The Helio­Cen­tric Con­sole is expect­ed to fetch six fig­ures, but as Rolling Stone points out, the auc­tion house recent­ly sold the con­sole used to record Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon for $1.8 mil­lion. What’s anoth­er few dozen clas­sic albums and sin­gles worth?

via Dan­ger­ous Minds

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Jim­my Page Tells the Sto­ry of “Stair­way to Heav­en”: How the Most Played Rock Song Came To Be

Pro­duc­er Tony Vis­con­ti Breaks Down the Mak­ing of David Bowie’s Clas­sic “Heroes,” Track by Track

Bri­an Eno Presents a Crash Course on How the Record­ing Stu­dio Rad­i­cal­ly Changed Music: Hear His Influ­en­tial Lec­ture “The Record­ing Stu­dio as a Com­po­si­tion­al Tool” (1979)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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