Georges Polti "The 36 Dramatic Situations"

Information Design

The most important aspect of any piece of communication is its organisation. Without organisation any component bit of information is simply that -- it has little or no intrinsic meaning. Think for a moment of a book -- as you break it down into increasingly small stand-alone bits -- chapter, paragraph, sentence, word, letter -- more and more of the meaning disappears. We might be able to surmise a great deal about a novel and its characters by reading one chapter, but hardly anything by reading one paragraph. A sentence can only present us with the barest facts, whilst a word can at best summon a general definition.

Mostly we don't think about how we structure the contents of our communications -- our information. Most of those structure are second nature, they are so well known that it seems impossible that they are not natural and inevitable. We don't think about the grammar of our first language or the word order of our speech. It wasn't really until needs grew to structure large amounts of information for easy retrieval that people began seriously to consider the ways in which they structured information.

Pre-literate societies utilised a range of means to encode and transmit information across the generations. Means to help fix the information in individual memory was extensively deployed -- these included fitting the information in regular rythmical and rhyming structures (e.g poetry and song), and attaching specific information to striking mental images (e.g myths and legends). The Ancient Greeks, who considered oratory to be one of an individual's greatest accomplishments, formalised these mnemonic schemes into the Art of Memory (Ars memoria) and structured their expression through the practice of Rhetoric.

The Middle Ages and the Renaissance saw an outburst of schemes for structuring and retrieving information; grand schemes were proposed which organised all of reality into great chains of being or ordered by analogy to the human body.

Moveable-type printing, which allowed the first great information storage technology, quickly spawned conventions for the ordering of materials in books, allowing readers to more easily navigate their contents. Page numbers, tables of content, indexes, etc are now so accepted that no one thinks to question whether the numerical data in the index refers to number of mentions or page numbers. The context determines the meaning.

New technologies bred new ways of storing and retrieving information -- some using physical structures, like a card indexing system. Others, constrained by the limitations of their medium, developed more metaphorical structures. Film, for example, can only be accessed in a linear manner, through time, but the content uses a number of information organisational mechanisms including metaphor, metonymy, chiasmus, displacement, symmetry and allegory to encode and communicate information.

Our century has seen a massive reformulation in regards to information and its organisation. The discovery of DNA transformed our understanding of the building blocks of life. Cybernetics and Communications theory have transformed our understanding our understandings even further. Organisation of information is the underlying principle of reality -- to constitute reality and our understanding of it.

But it wasn't until the big time arrival of the computer and the new challenges that it offered that the process of organising information became elevated to the status of a creative art. The computer, with its convergent possibilities, able to mimic the functions of all other representational and communications media seemed to offer a new possibility -- interactivity. The ability of the user to effect the outcome. Even the word for people who interacted with computer-based media, 'users', is significant. Other media have viewers, readers, listeners, audience -- all intrinsically cast as passive recipients of authorial control. User, however, presupposes an active involvement with the media -- somebody who can do something with it.

Of course, writers such as Barthes have demonstrated that positions vis-a-vis, for example a novel, those of the writer and the reader, are both active -- both bringing their own version of a work into being, neither capable of pinning it down and permanently fixing its boundaries.

Interactivity, however, has brought new problems -- not least how to even conceptualise it outside of the models we already have -- hence industry fondness for ideas like Net TV and on-line catalogues. And it is these new problems, stemming from the need to organise and make retrievable and meaningful, vast stores of separate bits of information which has led to the creation of the information artist or architect.

Richard Saul Wurman, in introducing his book Information Architects, wrote

"I mean (information) architect in as in the creating of systematic, structural and orderly principles in order to make things work: the thoughtful making of either artifact, or idea, or policy that informs because it is clear."

Clement Mok sees information design as the defining feature which makes interactive works coherent and usable. He blames much of the failure of interactive works on their lack of ability to clearly communicate with people what they are going to get and how they will get it. Whilst a book, for example, has many non-representational indicators of what kind of book it is (weight, paper quality, print style etc), interactives must solely rely on the presentation of their contents to communicate with people. He writes,

"An information designer bridges the gap between a user's cognitive model and an engineers database structures by creating an interface that deploys familiar organisational models, corralling data into groups and perceptible hierarchies."

Wurman has indicated that he had found only five ways to meaningfully organise information. These are known by the menomic 'LATCH' standing for

  • L) by location,
  • A) by alphabet,
  • T) organised by time (museum shows, for eg),
  • C) by category (e.g like department stores),
  • H) by hierarchy (e.g from the largest to smallest).

Mok begs to differ, offering instead seven universal data structures --

  • linear,
  • hierarchical,
  • web or rhizomatic,
  • parallel
  • matrix,
  • overlay
  • spatial zoom.

Both of these conceptualisations provide methods for helping users navigate through the information available within a work -- acting as a conceptual roadmap -- showing us where things are and indicating what kind of things they might be. They provide the context from which we can understand the material which is presented to us.

And mostly they work very well -- particularly for large quantities of archived material.

What it doesn't work so well for is providing the more nuanced experiences -- interactions (where content is ordered over time), -- which many theorists posit as the 'thing' which differentiates multimedia from other creative media. In the early 90s, following publication of the ground-breaking book 'The Art of Human-çomputer Interaction' which she edited, Brenda Laurel published 'Computers as Theatre'. Her contention was that interface design had become too caught up in representing 'things' and did not pay enough attention to designing (inter)action. She proposed theatre as a model for designing interfaces, highlighting the need for computer programs and their interfaces to be designed as one coherent whole rather than the usual situation of the interface design happening after the core functionalities and concepts of the programme had already been designed and implemented. By looking to successful concepts and strategies from the performing arts and, in particular, to the analysis of the structural elements of representation provided by Aristotle's 'Poetics', Laurel reinvigorated the industry's approach to interface design.


Here the guiding experience has been that human beings derive meaning from contiguity -- temporal or spatial proximity -- as much as from overt content/information.

In a famous 1919 experiment, Lev Kuleshov edited footage of an actor's face before three other images; a bowl of hot soup, a woman lying dead in a coffin, and a little girl playing with a toy bear. Each sequence was shown to a separate audience, and each audience saw three very different emotions -- hunger, horror, parental love -- expressed by identical images of the actor. Kuleshov had demonstrated that editing, the concatenation of separate shots, was more powerful than the content. Eisenstein went on to further explicate that narrative is created not by the content of the individual shots in a film but by their interaction.

Art and creativity works with layering, ambiguity and other structural methods to provide depth and complexity of representation often within deceptively simple contexts -- art could perhaps be thought of as a compression algorithm for the storage and presentation of complex and subtle cultural and conceptual information. The famous information theorist Edward Tufte has written

"What is sought in the designs for the display of information is a clear portrayal of complexity. Not the complication of the simple; rather the task of the designer is to give visual access to the subtle and the difficult -- that is, the revelation of the complex."

Many people have proposed that storytelling provides that elegantly simple interface to complex content, that narrative indeed is innate to humans -- some even propose that we are hardwired for it. The Russian morphologist, Vladamir Propp proposed that all stories could be broken down into a small number of constantly recycled components or morphemes which could be endlessly swopped about as long as they remained in their correct place within the narrative flow. But is essence, Propp saw all folkstories, which he saw as the ancestors of all narrative forms, as being about crossing territory -- about leaving home, the road movie. Joseph Campbell, and more recently interactive multimedia industry heavy weight, Christopher Volgler, synthesising in Jungian theory about archetypes, elaborate the narrative structure into that of the hero's quest. Whilst these formulations may seem simplistic a little analysis will reveal their essential truth.

Art, however isn't just about getting your protagonist from A to B -- whether that is in space or in her head -- it's about how you get her there. Likewise, multimedia is not simply about getting a user to do or learn something -- it's about creating an experience.

American art and architecture theorist Donald Kunze has proposed a structural formula for the production of works of art which may be of use. He proposes that the central problem of creating works of art is to get your audience to where you want them to be whether they are aware of this journey or not -- what he calls the 'arrival problem'. In art forms that don't involve literal audiences, this arrival problem is the sense of satisfaction and wholeness that comes when you feel that you got the point, or have seen all there is to see. Closure provides the audience the satisfaction it needs through providing a perceivable structure within which to interpret and appreciate the content.

Kunze proposes seven central universal strategies in making and structuring art works.

  • 1. Displacement -- this involves displacing the 'ordinary' meanings of the subject and objects of your work. It also involves displacing the audience -- taking them out of their ordinary lives and inserting them into your work -- Kunze sees this as happening through both IRL physical means (sitting them in a cinema or theatre, getting them to interact with a computer, etc), that is we displace their attention, and through subject matter. The latter is accomplished by suspending the audience between two modes of understanding and interpreting the work -- a naturalistic mode (ordinary physics, common sense,etc) and a 'fantastic' mode in which explanations and understandings are generated through the internal logic of the work. On one hand, art can resolve into the representational interests of the audience, some concern for the subject of the work of art. On the other hand, art can carry the audience to a level of self-reflection, where all issues of identity and difference come into question. The work of arts job is to suspend the audience between knowing and not knowing, between anticipation and surprise, until the end when these differences are resolved and closure is reached.
  • 2. Generate 'surplus meaning' -- over-code the work with repeat or, in Information Theory terms, redundant information. Methods for doing this include metaphor, doubling, reflection, variation and conflation. Conflation is when the meanings of two separate things become joined or mixed, contaminating each other with their separate meanings and therefore generating new meanings or insights. Art itself is surplus -- we are not going to die without art. Art-as-surplus allows art to stand outside of our normal concerns, to have a value as "sheer entertainment." In this gratuitous position, art gets away with a lot. It is "not true," and thus is capable of saying things without being blamed or sued. Surplus has a keener application, however. Art has surplus spaces, surplus times, surplus characters, surplus thoughts. By being something "extra," these surpluses can transport us, give us something to think about. A clue is a surplus because until it leads us to the truth, it can't be fit in anywhere. Without the creation of surplus value, art cannot develop the necessary sub-plots and structures that are concealed until just the right point where they can produce, on cue, surprise and delight.
  • 3. Match these or collate in a proper metonymy. Metonymy is the ability of the mind to relate things as parts of a whole. A puff of smoke is the "effect" of fire, which is a "cause." The blade of a knife is the effective and most representative part and can thus be used to name the object. The heads of cattle are the most visible (and countable) parts and thus are used to refer to the size of a herd. Metonymy is also a logic of fitting things into a system where parts relate in a web of interlocking meanings or functions. Machines with component parts are thus good examples of metonymy, because each piece plays a role in making the whole function, and each can be related mechanically to the others.
  • 4. Introduce new 'levels' of meaning -- included in this is the introduction of conflict or confusion between representation, content, and artifact or ground -- that is the expectations of the qualities of the context into which the work is introduced. at some point the artifact, the "manner," comes back into play. The artwork as artwork comes back to speak of itself, to speak of art's real relationship to life, not just a relationship manifest through the representational function where art portrays some feeling, event, or quality. The illusion of the work of art is a state of mind; calling attention to the working of levels gets us further into the illusion, but it also calls into question the status of the "real world" we left. It generates uncertainties and puzzles about the status of the contents.
  • 5. Engage themes of movement (typically of descent or katabasis) -- also changes of perspective and scale. This relates back to the Propp and Campbell hypothesis -- that art is about movement -- in the widest sense from lack of information to resolution when all the information has been available and resolved into closure. It also evokes different understanding of spatiality and movement -- from the linear movement -- getting from a to b -- which characterises our contemporary understanding of space to concentric and conditional movement which typifies the medieval understanding of movement. In Medieval society, there were many LAYERS. Each social class had its internal ruling structure which paralleled the royal rule of the king and the theological rule of heaven. The layers moved inside each other, like a system of concentric circles. Because layers were mirrors of each other, the WHOLE was present in each PART. All members of society, from the highest to the lowest, participated directly in a more or less unified view of the world.
  • 6. Involve an X-like or chiasmatic convergence. Chiasmus, which is a central rhetorical form, allows for the transformation of one thing into its opposite -- for example JFK's famous 'ask not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country'. The chi is the letter "X" in Greek, and this simple shape is a diagram of the complex interaction between the surface level of a work of art and the other levels that reside within it. The audience is first drawn to a false idea, "what the work of art seems to be about." Once they are pulled into the work they become aware of other possibilities, and these become the radical re-structuring devices that ultimately lead to the audience's real confrontation with the central events of the work.
  • 7. resolution or closure
 
<< home ] [ shiralee saul 2001