Writing
Music Math and Mind - A book on the physics and neuroscience of music
Eine
Kleine Nachtmusik: how nefarious nonartists cleverly
imitate music - An article from thejournal Leonardo
that discusses projects including the Tangerine
Awkestra, Thai Elephant Orchestra, the People's Choice,
and more (pdf)
The Thai
Elephant Orchestra, a chapter from the book,
Kinship With Animals (pdf )
The Y2K
bug was a contest entry by Jaron Lanier,
Lisa Haney, and me for a millenial time capsule to
preserve an issue of the New York Times Magazine by
mutating cockroach DNA and then setting the little
rascals loose in Manhattan. It was displayed at the
Museum of National History and won second prize from the
Times: we're lucky it didn't win first prize or we would
have had to do it. Here's (art by Lisa)
and the full text by Jaron including
sections the Times didn't print, and a "review" in Nature.
Notes
from under the floorboard - A chapter on making
new opera from a new book Live
Movies (2006) on multimedia performance edited by
Kirby Malone and Gail Scott White (pdf )
Liner notes for Phill Niblock's
string quartet CD, Early Winter. These discuss
the aural hallucinations Phill likes to produce in his
music.
Liner notes for Otto Luening's
orchestral CD An appreciation of Otto at
ninety-three years of age for his only orchestral CD on
Newport Classic.
The
survey from the People's Choice Music (pdf)
A blindfold test with Otto Luening,
conducted with Mark Dery from Keyboard Magazine
Liner
notes from Phill Niblock's String Quartet record
These notes are from Phill's 1994 CD, Early
Winter, consisting of two long works performed by
the Soldier String Quartet. His music uses loud drones
with that produce notes and melodies that aren't
actually played.
At a recent concert, Phill played a tape piece of warm
synthesizer-like sounds, suggesting fast-moving
arpeggios and distant thunder storms. I told him the
sounds were moving, what was the piece? I was embarassed
to find that it was one I had recently recorded, Five
More String Quartets. In that room, under those
conditions, I couldn't recognize the sound of the
strings or the music's slowly-evolving structure. But in
other rooms, at a different volume, it sounded precisely
like an overdubbsed string quartet with pitches moving
irrevocably toward unison.
What gives each Phill Niblock work its own identity?
Unlike any other composer's work I know of, the
personalities of Phill's compositions depend crucially
on how the recorded music is played back, the volume,
and the sound of the room. This is because sustained
pitches promote audible rhythmic beats and high and low
tones (sum and difference tones). In Phill's work, these
are never played by the performers, but come from the
interplay of sound waves during the recording, in the
speakers and in the room where you listen, and in your
ear. In the string quartets, sounds that are strikingly
heard but not played are rhythmic patterns in the cello
and thick chords about an octave above the highest
violin notes.
That Phill's music can sound different if you move into
the hallway or a different part of the room, or even
cock your head, must underlie something unusual that
occurs when we perform Phill's pieces live. Someone in
the audience realizes that the difference tones and
other aural phenomena change as one moves. This
encourages a few others to move around and after a while
the concert hall lookls like it has been invaded by
extras from a George Romero zombie movie.
Exactly what are the unplayed pitches that you might
hear in this music? The highest pitch played in the
String Quartet is roughly a G-sharp resting on the top
line of the treble staff. The lowest note is played by
the cello, around a G-flat at the bottom of the bass
clef. If you hear higher or lower pitches (or pitches in
the middle that are not centered around G-natural) and
are listening with a good, distortion-free speaker and
amplification system, you are hearing genuine auditory
hallucinations that are produced in your ear. These
pitches, called sum, difference, or
combination tones, are determined by the played
(fundamental) tones. For instance, if a violin is
playing a pitch close to a G-sharp, say 420 Hz (cycles
per second), and a viola plays a flatter pitch an octave
lower, say 200 Hz, the sum tone is f1 + f2 = 620 Hz, the
difference tone f1-f2 = 220 Hz, and the combination
tones derived from harmonic frequencies, for example
2f1-f2 = 640 Hz. These auditory hallucinations are
audible at sound pressure levels from about 20 dB to 65
dB.
Some of the physiological mechanisms underlying this
phenomenon are understood. The fundamental pitches
stimulate mechanoreceptive cells, the so called "hair
bundles" in the cochlea of the ear, by deflecting a
mechanically sensitive area on the cell. This mechanical
force results in the opening of electrical ion channels.
The changes in cellular voltage produces a vibration of
the bundles. Stimulated at a single frequency, a hair
bundle will normally vibrate only at that frequency and
its first harmonic (the octave). However, since the ion
channels jump back and forth from open to closed states
and their conformation is one of the components that
affects the hair bundle's movement, there is a nonlinear
relationship between the auditory stimulus and the hair
bundle's movement. With the addition of a second
frequency, the cells also vibrate at the frequencies of
the sum, difference, and combination tones. This does
not occur after a similar stimulation of an inert object
such as a glass fiber; the extra pitch hallucinations
are apparently the result of the opening and closing
cellular ion channels. The hair bundle's vibrations are
transmitted to the ear's basilar membrane and,
eventually, to the cortex which appears to be
responsible for pitch perception.
- Dave Soldier 's day job is as an assistant
professor in the Departments of Neurology and
Psychiatry at Columbia University.
Blindfold test with Otto Luening
Conducted by Dave Soldier and Mark Dery
Published January 1991 in Keyboard Magazine
Even at 90 years and counting, Otto Luening hasn’t
quite had the time to hear every new work that’s come
down the pike. So we thought we’ borrowed an idea from
Leonard Feather’s classic down beat Blindfold
Tests, choose a few provocative pieces, and play them
for Luening. His responses offer insight into both his
own compositional aesthetic and the material on our
selected recordings.
“Tre Nel 5000” by John Zorn, from The Big Gundown:
John Zorn Plays the Music of Ennio Morricone
[Nonesuch/Icon].
Luening: The first reaction I have is
that the various sections of the piece, where things are
coming in and out, project all right in terms of sound.
He’s got a pretty good sense of balance, but the shifts,
the changes, are pretty fast. Whether the piece is
successful depends on who’s supposed to listen to it and
how well they’re supposed to listen. An untrained
listener who hadn’t listened to much might listen to
this and think it was a very exciting thing. A more
experienced listener, I think, would begin by saying,
“Well, I get the confusion, but the details don’t stay
in my mind. I come away with feeling of nostalgia about
these genres, a feeling of ‘The good old days were so
beautiful, but my God, all you get now are the terrors.’
It’s a daily newspaper reconstituted as music ….. If
that’s what the composer wants to project, well then,
he’s succeeded. It’s not exactly what I would do myself,
because I get that sort of information from television;
I don’t need it in music.
“Svabata,” from Le Mystere des Voix Bulgares
[Elektra/Nonesuch].
Luening: Whoever wrote this piece has
a pretty good sense of vocal writing, and he’s also very
sensitive to speech. He employs a scale formation which
he uses sufficiently to sketch in a harmonic idea so
that the general sound sinks in. This means that he’s
able, as a result, to do a great deal with speech
rhythms. He gets counter-rhythms and other things going.
He also knows the value of repetition, even in a short
piece, but also the value of not doing it too long. In
other words, he has a sense of proportion, even in a
piece of this length. I’m prejudiced toward short
pieces; I like the condensed statement. The harmonic
concept here is very interesting. He’s got a kind of
contrapuntal movement, mostly around this certain scale
formation. It isn’t tonal and it isn’t chromatic; it’s a
modal adaptation, a scale that he’s picked up somewhere
or made up himself. But he sticks with the scale
sufficiently for the harmonic structure to come through.
“Young Once” by Scott Johnson, from Patty Hearst:
Original Motion Picture Soundtrack [Eleketra/Nonesuch].
Luening: The composer sounds as if he
was trained in this country; he doesn’t sound like a
European. On first hearing, I would say that he knows
something about harmony, about the overtone series; in
certain spots, the music gets polytonal. He has a lyric
quality, that’s his main drive, but he must have
composed a fair amount because he also has enough sense
to know that can’t go on with the lyric thing forever.
So he shakes his lyric things up and has contrapuntal
devices going, some imitations and some figuration, to
keep things from sagging. Where I feel he’s lacking a
little is in the articulation of the phrasing to bring
out his thoughts; he gives it to us in a big pudding–a
pudding with some very nice ingredients, but it’s a
pudding nonetheless. Another thing I’d say about it,
technically speaking, is that he ought to get his
instruments moving a little more. He sits on them on
pedal points that don’t help much: instead they detract
from listening to some of the nice things that are going
on in the higher registers. You can’t hear them because
you’ve got that glue down there, gumming things up.
Fourth Etude (“Fanfares”), by Gyorgi Ligeti, from Gorgy
Ligeti: etudes pur piano {Wergo].
Luening: I’ve heard some playing along
these lines, most of it done by that guy in Buffalo,
Yvar Mikashoff. This piece is very funny because it’s
hard to tell whether it’s a live piano or a mechanical
one. It’s a live piano playing very mechanically, but
nice mechanical. It sounds very much like Nancarrow.
It’s probably by a pianist, or if not a pianist by
somebody who is associated with pianists like Ursula
Oppens and that bunch, who are very good at this sort of
thing. Stockhausen could do something like this. People
like him and Cage want to astonish you, and they’ll come
up with something entirely different that they’ve never
touched before. It’s a skillful piece of music, very
well constructed. Within the virtuosity, it’s terrific.
I’ll tell you what my criticism of the piece is: the
overdoing of the scale. It’s like the overdoing of the
beat, or overdoing of anything. I don’t need it, I get
the point, and I’d like to be able to hear the other
things he’s doing, which interest me more. I like the
crashing chord at the end; he has to do that to over the
mechanical thing and come to some sort of a conclusion….
It reminds me of a friend of Beethoven’s, Czerny, an
excellent composer who wrote some concert etudes that
sound like this, where he’s doing everything under the
sun. It’s not the same things as Liszt where when he
does an etude, he does all sort of other things besides
virtuoso display or Chopin, which is a whole different
ball game….At any rate, this piece could be by Elliott
Carter, who sometimes does stuff like this. And it could
easily have been figured out by Milton Babbitt. Will, I
give up.
Gyorgi Ligeti.
Luening: Ligeti? I’ll be damned! I
admire him enormously as a composer, but I would never
have figured he’d write something like this! But this is
another example of what you get with the basic training:
A guy can turn around and, if he has to, write a
virtuosos piece for piano. And he’s done it so
beautifully. He’s really managed to capture the
character of Nancarrow on a real piano, which is an
accomplishment in itself.
Liner notes for Otto
Luening's orchestral CD
These notes are from Otto's (only) orchestral CD, Otto
Luening: Orchestral Works Newport Classic, recorded
by the Manhattan Chamber Orchestra, Richard Auldon
Clark conductor, in 1993. Otto was 93 at the time, and
it was a chance to thank him for being a mentor.
Incidentally, following Schoenberg's lead, he didn't
charge for lessons.
Otto Luening has a quality in greater abundance than
any other working composer, and perhaps the best name
for the quality is perspective. Through times
of optimism and eras of social and personal tragedy,
Luening continues on an astonishing path to rediscover
himself. The orchestral works performed here range over
seventy-five years from those by a Luening in his late
teens under the spells of Richard Strauss and his mentor
Ferruccio Busoni, to a Luening in his nineties with a
tremendous formal and stylistic breadth. But more
stunning than the length of this journey is the
realization that this composer of incomparable
experience chooses now not to write in some easily
digested style for a mass audience, but to write some of
the craggiest, most challenging work of his career. One
suspects that Otto is telling us that the greatest gift
an artist can bestow is not something smoothed over or
simplified in an attempt to be universal, but to give
one's own singular honest view of the world.
One of the perspectives from Luening's vantage has to
do with the silliness of identifying oneself by
ready-made labels, like "experimental" or "conservative"
composer. During some periods, Luening has been
portrayed as America's most experimental composer. For
example, in collaboration with Vladimir Ussachevsky, he
produced the first electronic pieces on this hemisphere,
developed means to combine acoustic and electronic
instruments, and helped form an audience for electronic
music; he knew Benny Goodman, "Fatha" Hines, and other
members of the Chicago jazz school in the early twenties
and wrote a large scale concert jazz piece with Ernst
Bacon, Coal Scuttle Blues, before Ellington or
Gershwin; became immersed in Vedic philosophy nearly
seventy years ago, and as a result wrote the Trio
for Flute, Violin, & Soprano, as Henry
Cowell stated, the first aleatoric concert work;
performed as a pianist/composer for the original Dada
events with Hugo Ball and Tristan Tzara in Zurich in
1917; wrote some of the first music based directly on
the overtone series as explored by the German polymath
Helmholtz; studied Schonberg's Harmonielehre
when he was twelve years old; and was a close confidant
of Edgar Varese, Cowell, Carl Sandburg, Martha Graham,
and Harry Partch - in fact, Partch thought that Luening,
who arranged his first New York concert, first financial
backing for his work, and critiqued his theoretical
works, was his earliest major supporter in the musical
world and asked him write the introduction for Genesis
of a Music.
But Luening's music also comes from Wagner, with whom
Otto's father closely collaborated, Richard Strauss, and
his teachers Busoni and Philipp Jarnach. He says that
he became hooked on music by singing folk songs as a
small child on the farm in Wisconsin. Like Bach, Brahms,
and other musicians of the European "classical"
tradition, he practiced music from different
perspectives; as conductor, composer, a performer on
flute, piano, organ, and percussion. His experience as a
conductor alone is astounding; after working under the
greats of the early part of the century (he maintains a
particular fondness for Arthur Nikisch and Strauss), he
conducted in Zurich, in vaudeville, on Broadway, for the
first opera company devoted to American opera and opera
orchestras formed by the W.P.A., premiered Virgil
Thomson's The Mother of Us All and Gian Carlo
Menotti's The Medium, revived Paisiello's Barber
of Seville, and led a Croatian folk choir based
in a Chicago tavern. And in his seventies when he
noticed he had begun to lose some of his amazing power
of memory, he reversed the decline through daily
memorization of a new movement from Haydn's piano
sonatas. (Otto will read through your orchestra score
and later quote to you what the French horns are doing
on the two hundredth measure.)
All this makes Luening an uncomfortable subject for
music writers and musicologists, who need to invent
categories and hierarchies to try to make sense of a
complex real world. Luening says that he has long felt
justified in using any style to make a musical statement
and that he will tailor the style to the temperament and
specialties of a particular performer. Still, one of his
favorite pieces of advice for the em-erging
composer (Otto now refers to himself as a sub-merging
composer, and feels a great kinship between the two) is
"Don't let them tell you who you are. You tell
them who you are."
Luening's perspective on the history of the culture can
be a bracing tonic. Recently we discussed cocaine abuse
in New York. He said, "This is the third cocaine
epidemic I've experienced. The first was in Wisconsin,
when some of my father's university students were
addicted to cocaine sold as patent medicines in
pharmacies. The second was in Zurich during World War I,
when many of Jung's followers and the Dadaists developed
a habit." Indeed, one can be quite intimidated knowing
that the man to whom you are speaking followed Lenin and
his entourage as they boarded the train on their return
to Russia following the Bolshevik revolution, that he
attempted to visit the Dachau concentration camp in
1936, that he investigated the musical foundations of
Irish-spoken English with James Joyce during the period
Joyce was writing Ulysses, that he knew the
traditional culture of the Bavarian peasants as a
participant. Whenever one demonstrates something one
thinks is a new musical idea to Otto, he will say "Well,
you know this direction was explored in detail by such
and such fifty or several hundred years ago. You really
should study the scores of Byrd, or Carpenter, or
Debussy, or Ziehn, or Varese, and see how they did it."
I find that Otto is always right about recommending
these unexpected sources and suspect that the
innumerable composers and performers he has supported
over the years have found the same thing.
Luening's perspective also provides the foundation for
an amazing iconoclasm in taste. For instance, during my
last visit he was rhapsodic in praise for the
contemporary composer/flutist Robert Dick and the
singer/composer Mary Jane Leach. These opinions are
startling not because Luening has more than fifty years
of experience over these musicians, but because he
doesn't feel any need to be cautious and wait until
their work has been established into some hierarchy. One
comment he made was "People say that Leach's music is
hard to listen to. Well, Beethoven's music is
hard to listen to - at first." He has also expressed
enthusiasm to me for works by the Bulgarian Woman's
Choir, Gil Evans, Gyorgi Ligeti, and Frank Zappa.
Luening's interest in creating a climate for others to
make music led him to cofound artist's cooperatives
including the American Music Center and CRI Records.
This selfless support of those who would be creative
musicians continues, and he is currently coaching a
composer just out of college, Dan Cooper. Dan joins a
list of such stylistic breadth that only Otto could
understand it, including Harvey Sollberger, Gil
Goldstein, Partch, John Corigliano, Ezra Laderman,
Nicholas Russakis, Malcolm Goldstein, William Hellerman,
Charles Wuorinen, Alice Shields, William Kraft, and
Wendy Carlos. Yet despite the fact that these people and
the many others may feel as if they have nothing in
common, they seem unified in following some of the
specific lessons that Luening teaches. Among these are
1) Pay attention to register, since counterpoint changes
according to the audibility of overtones, a point he
thinks neglected in musical education. He also feels
that careful study of counterpoint is important no
matter what one's style, and that even if one's writing
is not contrapuntal, all good composers are united with
a foundation in contrapuntal hearing. 2) Pay attention
to dynamics and phrase markings, parts of the language
of written music that also feels are usually
insufficiently addressed. 3) Acquire real life
experience as a performer, whether as an instrumentalist
or conductor. 4) Study cultural history, because "what
is old is new". He also repeats Busoni's maxim that
every experiment needs to result in a piece with a
beginning, middle, and end. 5) There is no handed-down
path for a composer, and everyone must try to figure it
out as an individual. This point seems to grow out of
Luening's lifelong personal motto and koan, "Know
thyself, physician heal thyself."
Beyond his concern for the artistic development of
others, Luening continues his own musical odyssey. For
the latest addition to his canon of over fifty
orchestral works, we thank the wonderful young conductor
Richard Auldon Clark and his Manhattan Chamber
Orchestra. Luening tells me that he would like to
continue in this direction, particularly in writing
shorter orchestra pieces, but is somewhat concerned
about the costs of copying parts. Frankly, this country
should not allow such a situation and one hopes that the
evidence on this recording will generate support for
Luening's continued orchestral compositions. Still, just
as he would advise emerging composers, he is currently
writing for smaller forces, setting poems from James
Joyce's Chamber Music for voice and piano.
Although others can set these poems to music, only
Luening was a member of Joyce's theater troupe, The
English Players, in Zurich during the second
decade of the century, and only Luening was coached by
Joyce in his approach to words and diction. This return
to a singular personal history tempered by a tremendous
journey of development in discipline, achievement, and
reflection, results in the individual perspective that
makes the work of artists like Joyce and Luening so
important for the wide world.
A Time Capsule that will survive One Thousand Years
in Manhattan
Submitted by Jaron Lanier, with the collaboration of
David Sulzer and Lisa Haney
May 3, 1999
Summary:
An archive of the New York Times Magazine and other
materials will be encoded into the DNA of cockroaches
which will be released in Manhattan.
Method:
The familiar New York City cockroach predates the
city’s geography. It has survived ice ages, earthquakes,
famines, and floods. It has watched the dinosaurs come
and go. It has resisted determined efforts by mankind to
remove it even from individual buildings. It would
survive a nuclear attack. It will probably outlive all
other contemporary fauna on Manhattan, including humans.
Some of the cockroach’s genes are extremely stable.
They have not changed substantially for millions of
years, and are therefore extremely likely to remain
stable for the next one thousand years. Associated with
these genes are DNA sequences known as introns which
serve no known purpose. While it is possible that these
sequences serve some unidentified function, their
content is gibberish.
Recombinant techniques will be used to overwrite this
gibberish with the archival materials. While computer
memory is made of bits, which exist in two states (zero
or one), DNA is composed of four "base pairs"; so it has
four states. Therefore a given sequence of DNA can store
twice as much information as a similar length of
computer memory.
A single cockroach’s introns will easily be able to
contain the articles, letters, and other primary texts
of one full year’s editions of the Times Magazine.
Certain types of information will be written into
mitochondrial DNA sequences, which are inherited
matrilinearly and are not subject to sexual
recombination, instead of introns. DNA in this location
is not as stable, but will nonetheless remain useful for
the required period of time. Mitochondrial DNA is well
suited to data such as digitized photographs, audio
recordings, and crossword puzzles. The continuous nature
of photographic and audio materials makes them useful
even if there are slight modifications to the data;
indeed even the best preserved photographs are
constantly undergoing slight changes which are not
perceived by casual observers. While crossword puzzles
are made of discrete information (text), it is presumed
that the further in the future the puzzle is decoded,
the more advanced the civilization will be; therefore
any errors caused by the passage of time will simply
generate an appropriately difficult puzzle.
Once an archive is selected, it will be written into a
computer file and coded into DNA base pairs. The
sequences will then be synthesized by conventional
protocols. Then the archival DNA will be ligated into
cockroach intron DNA via injection into eggs.
Once the archival roaches are born they will be
cultivated until the population achieves at least the
specified volume (8 cubic feet). The roaches will be
released in selected locations in Manhattan. Further
cultivations and releases will follow, carefully
calculated to assure that the archive is widespread
enough to survive for the specified period of time.
Within approximately fourteen years, the archival
roaches will inexorably become so endemic as to become
an ubiquitous and permanent feature of the island.
In order to decode the archive, a future historian
would make use of Polymerase Chain Reaction (PCR) to
amplify and then sequence the fragments, turning the DNA
sequence once again into the contents of a computer’s
memory. In order to facilitate decoding, the archive
will not make use of data compression or encryption
technologies.
Justification:
This proposal is not intended as a joke or social
commentary. It is the best technological solution to
meet the demands of the constraints presented.
a) The time capsule is to be placed in Manhattan, yet
last for 1000 years. Manhattan is one of the least
desirable locations on Earth for archival storage. It is
a likely target for terrorist or military attack during
the specified period of time. Furthermore, Manhattan
might very well be subject to political pressures that
would cause future residents to make unplanned use of
its spaces and other resources. Even "sacred ground"
such as Central Park, might become vulnerable to
exploitation because of unforeseen changed in technology
and society. For instance, travel might become
restricted and parklands on Manhattan might be needed to
produce food. New forms of transportation, such as
spaceports, might become available that require large
amounts of space and are demanded in population centers
rather than at the peripheries, where contemporary
airports are found. New space might be required to house
artificial phases of human life, such as cryogenically
preserved bodies or disembodied brains. Existing
residential areas will be needed for conventional human
living, so spaces such as Central Park might be drafted
into unforeseen service. The archival cockroach will be
a robust repository, able to survive almost all
conceivable scenarios.
b) The requirement that the time capsule survive rising
oceans and other ecological catastrophes presents a
dilemma. Suppose a conventional capsule was placed on
high, sacred ground, such as the grounds of the
cloisters. As the seas rise, that ground will become
ever more needed for habitation and vital services; it
will lose its sacred status in precisely those scenarios
in which that status would be most needed. The archival
cockroach occupies the whole of the island and is immune
to changing ideologies of land and resource use.
c) The desire was expressed to have multiple copies of
the time capsule, including perhaps one in the basement
of the New York Times. The archival cockroach easily
meets this requirement.
d) The archival cockroach exceeds the materials
specifications: it is water tight, impervious to changes
in weather, easy to locate, impossible to destroy. The
data will last for well beyond the initial millennium
specified.
e) Because the archival cockroach will exist in so many
copies, it will be easy to read the data without
altering or destroying the archive. This is the most
attractive aspect of the archival cockroach. No future
historical revisionist will be able to locate and
destroy each copy.
Potential problems and solutions to them:
a) Will there be ethical or public safety objections?
The DNA in which the archival data will be placed is
nonfunctional. The cockroaches will not have an altered
biological function. They will also not be harmed or
distressed in any way.
b) Will genetic drift erase the data? In order to
combat this problem, seven copies of each article will
be placed in introns. This number has been calculated to
assure that data will be recoverable even after the most
severe genetic drift that might occur within the
specified period of 1000 years.
c) Any single genotype, such as the archival genotype,
would be vulnerable to changes in the environment. This
is why biodiversity is important in wild populations.
The initial population of archival roaches will be
generated from a wide ranging sample of roaches in
residence in New York City (Periplaneta americana). In
this way, pre-archival biodiversity will to some degree
be represented in the archival population.
d) If other cities choose to adopt copycat archival
strategies, there is a danger that roaches imbedded with
an archive of, say, the Washington Post, would
interbreed with carriers of the New York Times archive.
In that case the roaches of Philadelphia would
eventually contain a mixed text record. This is not as
great a difficulty as it might seem. As significant
sequence similarity is required for recombination to
occur, genetic crossover between Washington Post and New
York Times articles is extremely unlikely. Indeed, if
crossover were to occur, an earlier of instance of
plagiarism or reprinting would be implicated. At any
rate, as long as each article is stored with its proper
reference data, it will be possible for future
historians to reconstruct both archives from a sample of
roaches.
e) How will historians know that the material is
present? The beginning of each archival segment will be
comprised of a digital sequence that serves as the
"masthead". This sequence will spell out "New York Times
Magazine Time Capsule, 2000AD". A "Rosetta Stone"
graphic will be widely reproduced. It will contain the
masthead base pair sequence represented graphically,
along with the letters the base pairs represent,
pictures of the mouth positions associated with each
letter, and pictorial representations of the cockroach.
This graphic will be published in the magazine, of
course, but will also be chiseled into all future city
monuments. It will also be etched in industrial
artificial diamond disks the size of CDs. One thousand
of these disks will be hidden in locations in Manhattan.
The team:
Lead designer Jaron Lanier is joined by Dr. David
Sulzer, Professor of Neurology and Psychiatry, Columbia
University. Dr. Sulzer will supervise the design,
sequencing, and ligation of the archive. Lisa Haney,
technical illustrator, is responsible for presentation
graphics as well as the design of the Diamond Disk
Rosetta Stone.
Budget:
This project could be completed for the given budget of
$75,000 at some point in the very near future, as the
costs of biotechnology services come down. In order to
complete it before the year 2000, it will be necessary
to accept a significantly higher budget and make use of
available tools and services.
Operon Technologies’ published charge for creating DNA
sequences is 60 cents per base pair, but we are
confident we will be able to negotiate a substantial
price break due to the quantity we require.
Since four base pairs are required to contain the
information of one byte, and one byte is used to
represent each letter in the common ASCII format,
sequencing will cost $2.40 per letter, unless we
negotiate a discount.
A selective archive should fit comfortably in a 1000
page book. Assuming a rate of approximately $1 per
letter after negotiations, a page of text will be
sequenced for approximately $1000. The archive can
therefore be created using existing commercial services
for under $1,000,000. It need only be sequenced once,
even though it will be inserted seven times into the
cockroach genome in order to achieve redundancy.
The cockroach genome must be mapped. This might sound
daunting, but it must be remembered that the cost of
genome mapping is falling rapidly. The cockroach genome
is presumed to be similar in size to that of the
grasshopper; around 10,000 million base pairs, or about
three times the size of the human genome. There are
probably about 15,000 cockroach genes with roughly 5
introns per gene. The cockroach easily has over a
billion base pairs in its introns, which will have a
capacity to represent over 250 million letters. That is
far in excess of what is needed for the archive, even
with the requirement of redundancy.
Plasmids, enzimes, vectors, and microinjection
paraphernalia will be needed- totaling approximately
$126,500. Housing and care for the cockroaches and their
eggs will be first rate, but will still only cost only a
few thousand dollars. Even though DNA has not been
introduced into cockroaches before, the technique is
already established for Drosophila flies and some
mosquitoes. A research staff will be established in
Manhattan in order to adopt these techniques to
cockroaches. While the initial DNA microinjections will
be expensive, costs will fall once the techniques are
better understood. Total budget for staff and physical
plant should come in at approximately $1,132,000 up
until the time of the release of the archive into the
environment.
The Diamond Disk Rosetta Stones will cost approximately
$193 per disk. This technology is also becoming less
expensive at a rapid rate, so it would make sense to
wait a few years to fabricate and place the disks.
It must be re-emphasized that, while at today’s prices
this proposal must be considered as a "conceptual"
entry, prices are falling so rapidly that the given
budget constraint can be met in the very near future. It
would be entirely reasonable to select and capture the
cockroaches at the present time, display them to the
public for a few years, and then insert the archive into
their eggs once prices have come down to the specified
level.
Illustration:
The Archival Cockroach is shown in top and side views.
Inserts picture the encoding of text taken from the May
2, 1999 edition of the New York Times Magazine.
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