matt@itp

Assignments for HCD:

- Observation: http://itp.nyu.edu/blogs/my661/2008/02/07/a-few-words-on-the-subway-maps-in-new-york-city/ 

- Observation 2: http://itp.nyu.edu/blogs/my661/2008/02/07/user-experience-design-brief-analysis-of-my-roommate-cooking-a-meal-or-hot-diggity-dog/ 

- Project Proposal: Posted on Wiki, “Panama Project Goals”

-  Interview: Posted on Wiki, “Panama MP Interview Notes”

- Prelim Research Report: Posted on Wiki, “Panama Prelim Research” (pre-Panama)

- Primary Research Guide: Posted on Wiki, “Panama Primary Research Guide”

- Primary Research Report: Posted on Wiki, “HCD_Azuero_compressed”

- Concept Development: Posted on Wiki, “Panama Concept Development”

- User Scenario v1: http://itp.nyu.edu/blogs/my661/2008/04/17/user-scenario-panama/ 

- Prototype v1: (yet to be uploaded)
-  Final Presentation: Posted on Wiki, “Panama Final Prototype Presentation”

….now we just have to build the damn thing. Still, pretty cool that it’s in, we’re pumped.

Here’s an imagined user scenario for our work in Panama. I’m going to leave out specific details in terms of place, etc. as to not draw any unwanted google-search traffic. I’ll explain what’s going on in class.

about teh roller luggage project. must have lost that.

however, i do have this complete nonsense. Click on the link at the top.

You’re welcome.

Jose and I have teamed up again to work on another music project for ITP. This one is way different from our MiXem project from last semester. This one has no arduino, no ableton, no q prox sensors, no computer interface, and even no electricity to power it. The idea for this project, which I have yet to think of a clever name for, is to use roller luggage wheels to play melodies as they pass over textured surfaces. It’s gonna be my final project for Urban Computing, but we’re hoping to enter it into the ITP Spring Show. 

Anyways, to explain this a little better, the project is to make a textured surface that will play tones when roller luggage passes over it, and then to arrange these tones in a way that will play a melody. The final idea will be to make a series of parallel surfaces that, when multiple bags are dragged over them, will make a more complex melody and will hopefully be more fun to use. It’d be sort of cool if complete strangers rushing through an airport can randomly synch up their luggages to make music. Might make the commute more fun, especially if they’re in a hurry (and moving their luggage/playhead fast).
Here’s the same idea that was carried out in Japan a few years ago, except this one is a highway and uses cars to produce music: http://inventorspot.com/articles/melody_road_gives_whole_new_mean_8235 The video does a good job of explaining how textures can create different tones. I was a little bummed to see this done before, but whatever. Besides, this one’s a little different — with roller luggage, we can have greater liberty to use different materials and different textures to produce tones, not to mention the collaborative aspect of having parallel surfaces. Also, I think speed will be much easier to control with luggage… for example, you can go backwards and forwards pretty easily, so you can sort of scratch over a particular texture if you’re into that.

Anyways, Jose and I did our first round of testing yesterday. We took two pieces of luggage around NYU and into subways and places like that where we could expect to find different surfaces. We also weighted our luggage differently to see if that would have any effect on the tones produced (it did - heavier works better). We then took audio with our M-Audio/t-mic setup and I took some really crappy video and pics, which I’ll post below. But there were a few things we realized by testing yesterday. 1) there are a lot more variables than I originally suspected. For one, the luggage you use makes a huge difference. Not only do the wheels matter, but where the wheels are placed, how they’re shaped, even the construction of the bag itself (does it rattle a lot like my crappy Orvis bag?) factor into the sound. Interesting. 2) Most effective surfaces were pronounced convex bumps, rather than carved in ridges like in the japanese highway. We found these on the steps in the Tisch lobby and on the warning tracks to subway platforms. 3) The more pronounced the groove/bump, the louder the sound. This is obvious, but it just reinforced an important point. Whatever we build, we should plan to exaggerate it if it’s to be heard at all.

So, this week’s assignment in User-Experience Design, aka Human-Centered Design, saw us go into “the field” to observe a friend in his/her natural habitat doing something completely normal. As an analyst, it was my job to document and comment on the practice as we saw it. The idea here is to get used to doing some field work, and practice obtaining data for analysis.

Anyways, I put “the field” in quotes because I chose (unwisely) to observe my own damn roommate cooking dinner. This was problematic for a few reasons: 1) it’s nearly impossible to conduct any sort of “cultural inventory” in the John Collier, Jr. sense, and 2) my roommate doesn’t really cook. Regardless, I decided to go through with the observation just to see what came out of it.

My process was to loosely follow the Collier model for analysis, at least up through the first couple of stages. These go in depth, so I can go over these in class rather than write them out. Basically, it calls for observing without judging in step 1, and then collecting your data, reflecting, and asking the question: “what are you trying to find out??” in step two. Well, I started

Well, my roommate, the foodie that he is, cooked a hot dog and a salad for dinner. This process was expedited by a piece of equipment called The Hot Diggity Dogger, which is basically a toaster for hot dog weiners and buns. I set up two cameras to document the process; one was my handheld digital camera to snap away at whatever it was that he was doing, and to capture a few items around the apartment relevant to his activity, and the second camera I put out of the way to snap a picture of the kitchen every 2 seconds for a time lapse sort of effect.

After watching him prepare the meal, I decided to write down a few thoughts right off the bat. This was good form, but it could have helped to have another person in the room making notes while I focused on taking pictures. My thoughts were:

Difficulties:
1) too many plugs in the recepticle
2) too difficult to reach the hot diggity dogger
3) too difficult to reach the salad bowls
- not enough clean bowls as such
4) why two coffee pots blocking the only recepticles?
5) some things in the wrong place
- pledge
- mojitos bottle
- sandwich bags misplaced
6) no place to eat really.

Ease of use:
1) quick work of dinner - hot diggity dogger is awesome.

From here, I went through the 100 or so photos I took. It was at this point that I realized that this exercise was WAY more difficult because it was in my own apartment. Again, trying to observe this setting seemed like common sense to me, which is not good. However, I was able to come away with a number of useful observations. Check it:

[pic #1]kitchen table is a mess. Look at the dust buster, that definitely shouldn’t be there. No room to eat food. More on this later.

[2]check this out. super difficult to reach appliances, but that’s not that weird. What’s interesting is that there is all this stuff on the fridge that makes it more complicated to use. Paper towels, etc. Space is definitely an issue in the kitchen.

[3]speaking of space. The white blog in the foreground is a coffee pot that he had to move to reach the outlet to plug the hot diggity dogger in. The black blob to the right is another coffee pot, which makes no sense whatsoever, given the space limitations. Towels on top of toaster oven is fire hazard, I think.

[4]another view of the absurd dual coffee pot setup, and the hot diggity dogger.

[5, 6]the hot diggity dogger in action.

[7]again, space was an issue. had to move the box of special k to get at a cabinet door.

[8]….the inside of the fridge. Organized sort of, not much in there. Water jug taking up disproportionate amount of room. Remaining dogs kept in original packaging, on top of tupperware (no wonder they invented resealable hot dog bags)

[9, 10]bowls a little too high. kitchen table chair was brought in to stand on.

[11] ah! unused space! and it looks like it’s within arms reach. well what do you know….

[12] charlie makes salad to go along with his hot dog. note the lack of counter space now, no room to work.

[13, 14] this seems like a problem. I had to intervene at this point to remind charlie to unplug the cord, which you’ll notice in the back.

[15] this is charlie eating his dinner standing in the kitchen.

[16] here he is transferred to the living room. Looks like he likes to watch TV while eating. Interesting correlation between this and the shot of the busy kitchen table — kitchen tables are meant to be eaten at, not used as a resting place for dustbusters. Kitchen chairs are meant to be sat in, rather than stood on to reach salad bowls.

[17] side view. sitting like that can’t be good for your back, hunched over like he is in front of the coffee table.

[18] Hot Diggity Dogger label.

Anyways, as I flipped through the pictures, I began to realize a bit more fully the analytical process of this exercise. Themes started to emerge that I had not expected. Safety, for one, emerged as a theme. This started with reviewing the photos of Charlie sticking a fork in the toaster, but once I started thinking about that, I started noticing other safety hazards as well. For example, the towels on top of the toaster oven. The standing on a chair to reach a bowl. The unnecessary use of a (very sharp) knife to open the hot dog package. Another theme I picked up on was space dynamics. Why is there open reachable space in a cabinet, yet Charlie had to stretch for both the Hot Diggity Dogger and even get on a kitchen chair to reach a bowl? Or, why is the kitchen table being used to hold a dustbuster, batteries, and some unused candles when it could be sat at for dinner? Charlie chose to sit at the couch, hunched over the coffee table to eat, while the kitchen table is being used for crap storage, and the table chairs are being used as step ladders. These were the questions that emerged as I reviewed the footage, and from there it became rather easy to substantiate these themes with further documentation.

That’s about it for now though. Oh, here’s the video footage I took. It turned out to be completely pointless, rather just sorta fun to look at.

First glance at the New York City subway map seems to be a huge tangle of colored lines, numbers, and letters over patches of what resembles the 5 boroughs. However, spending a little time with it will reveal how amazingly communicative the subway map really is (for being just a map… but more on that later). This analysis aims to cover the basic functions of the subway map while commenting on ways in which it successfully or not so successfully it completes these functions, with a bit at the end on possible suggestions for improvements.

So let’s start: what is the purpose of the subway map? The map essentially has one function: to communicate route information to public transit users. Ideally, a good map should be well oriented, clear, and trustworthy. It should demand very little from the user; at first glance, the user should know exactly where they are in relation to all the other information presented on the map, and finding your destination and the accompanying route information should take little or no effort. Also, and perhaps most importantly, the map should convey correct information.

On the issue of orientation, the subway map does an excellent job of placing the user in context. A big, red “You Are Here” symbol circles the station that the rider’s in. It’s easy to see and, even though the “You Are Here” words are printed in English, the red circle + arrow symbol is about as good as it gets in communicating the idea to non-English speakers. Better still, the red circle + arrow symbol is designed in a slightly translucent red color, so despite its bold color and size, it manages not to obscure any of the map’s information.

In terms of communicating clear information, the subway map gets pretty good marks. Subway lines are color coded and very clearly labeled with either a letter or number cast in the corresponding color. Thus when bunches of lines run together, like they do through a good part of Queens, downtown Manhattan, and the Bronx, it’s easy to tell which lines stop where with just a glance. Furthermore, stops are clearly labeled with solid black dots or white dots with a black outline. It takes a quick glance at the legend the first time you look at the map to discern that black dots mean local stops and white ones are for express service, but once that’s established it’s not quickly forgotten. All stops are printed in English, which can pose problems to New York’s massive non-English speaking population, but given the physical constraints of the map (dimensions, materials, etc) it makes more sense to only print in English rather than risk the confusion of having tons of languages represented. The subway map is also reasonably trustworthy; it would probably not be in the MTA’s best interest to provide false information on a subway map, no matter how amusing a fake stop or line might be.

However, while the subway map does an excellent job of distilling a massive amount of information into a format that is clear and quickly understood, it’s still not perfect. First off, they’re made of paper and subject to wear and tear. I’ve personally come across many maps that are worn through or ripped. People tend to touch them and vandalize them. Also, the subway maps can be hard to find in some subway stations and in the trains themselves. Oftentimes too the map will be placed beyond the turnstile, forcing the rider to buy a ticket before consulting the map, which is a serious misgiving to people not familiar with the route.

Most importantly however, the subway map has a long way to go in terms of the definition of a good map. Remember, a good map is supposed to “communicate route information to its users.” Well, in that sense, there is quite a bit of very useful route information that cannot be found on a New York subway map. The first thing that comes to mind is information on delayed routes, changes in service, or closed stations. In this way, the subway map is not always trustworthy; the map will no doubt illustrate the C line stopping at Jay street in Brooklyn, but it most certainly will not mention if that line is not running or if the station is closed due to construction. For that information, the rider has to consult either printed bulletins or verbal (and often garbled) announcements. Nor will the subway map give information on train times and connections. Nor does the subway map communicate well essential above-ground destination information; which neighborhoods, which attractions, etc are where. These are treated as mere afterthoughts, as something that the rider has no interest in while commuting.

To put it another way, when subway riders approach a map, they essentially want an answer to the question: “how do I get from where I am now to where I need to go?” The map currently in use by the MTA communicates this as well as possible in a passive way. That is, the map does not respond to user input. Imagine, however, if this exchange were dynamic; if the map could in fact respond to user input. That way, the map could answer the above question specific to the rider who asked it. The map would perhaps register the rider’s destination, highlight a specific route from where he/she currently is, give information on when the trains he/she needs are arriving, and what your wait would be for any transfer times. It could advise on which routes are preferred during rush hour or late at night. It could warn riders to avoid a particular station if an emergency had been reported, or which stations are not wheelchair accessible, or which station your favorite bucket-drummer is playing in. Or which stations have public access bathrooms. Or which stations have 24 hour snack booths. Or maybe which cars are less crowded, as to effectively disperse the riders so not everyone tries to cram into the middle cars. And it could probably do this in the rider’s native language, no less.

All of this seems like a stretch for a subway map, and that’s certainly a valid point. These suggestions do not pretend to take technological capability or financial practicality into concern. However, I do think it’d make a pretty cool iPhone application. Now if only riders could get cell service underground.