Documenting the misuse of an interface with whimsy and play
This blog post shows my thought process for documenting the intentional misuse of an everyday object’s interface for four consecutive days, beyond its original intended use. The goal was to see if any new and exciting observations could be made by doing so, from a perspective of whimsy and joy. This assignment was done for my Summer 2021 Experiences and Interfaces graduate-level course at OCAD University with instructor Ashley Lewis.
The object I chose to misuse for this assignment was my metal iPad stand which I use on a daily basis for propping up my device. I originally purchased this stand for ergonomic purposes in order to have something that could elevate my iPad as I draw on it without me having to crane my neck over the screen all the time.
Day 1 (06.04.21)
For my first day, I decided to arrange the stand in a way that would still serve the intention I wanted from the stand, which was to prop up my iPad in some way. The configuration I found today created a new ‘function’ to the stand, which allows there to be a table grip for the stand using its ‘claws’ as hooks. While this creates more stability for the stand to prevent it from moving around in use, it loses its elevation in the process. This made me realize creating a new possible interface might sometimes sacrifice one convenience for another.
Day 2 (06.05.21)
On the second day, I tried to find a new configuration for the stand by elongating its form. From a practical standpoint, this causes the iPad stand to be elevated at a lower angle than its original form.
My realization from today’s exercise was — If I didn’t see the product picture advertising the way it was intended to be used, would I still be able to intuitively understand how to use this stand right away without being given any context?
Day 3 (06.06.21)
Today I tried to approach the iPad stand from a more playful perspective. Instead of using it as a stand, I wanted to experiment with just seeing what kind of ‘poses’ I could create with the body of the stand. This made me observe the stand’s aesthetic attributes rather than its functional design.
After playing around with creating different poses, the stand’s form became increasingly detached from the visualization of a ‘stand’ and started appearing more like an abstract art piece. This repetition of finding different ways to look at the stand started to challenge my idea of what defines the appearance of a stand. Does a stand have to look a certain way? Why do we identify a particular shape of an object as being a stand?
Day 4 (06.07.21)
On my fourth and final day, the stand’s form was now quite abstracted and transformed from my original understanding of it. Today I decided to observe the hole in the center of the object. What purpose does it serve? Does it add more stability to the stand itself in the original design? I added pens and pencils to fill the space just out of curiosity.
From these documented observations of the stand over four days, I began to realize that a stand’s form is not absolute. A ‘stand’ can have many different definitions and forms. If the object is able to prop up or support an object, then it can be defined as a stand. With this all-encompassing definition of a stand, its aesthetics can take on many different shapes, so long as it can fulfill the requirements needed for its function.
After completing this exercise this also made me wonder if a child was given this stand without any context, what kinds of ‘new definitions’ of this object would they come up with for its use? Children still do not have a fully-formed understanding of the world and therefore have less of a point of reference for each object they encounter, instinctively creating their own interpretations. With the repeated use of objects throughout the duration of our lives, we have come to understand a certain form or shape for each interface we use, based on gathered experiences. However, when we move away from defined interpretations of that object, we begin to realize that shapes and forms do not always have to determine what that interface is used for.
Assignment Part 2 (06.12.21–06.16.21)
To try and approach ‘play’ more on the second part of this assignment, I decided to experiment with misusing my mechanical keyboard. Mechanical keyboards are known for their switch keys which create varying levels of sound depending on what colour they are. My mechanical keyboard has blue switches which create the loudest audible noise when pressed while typing. The picture of the keyboard is the same one shown in the photos above.
My first instinct was to play on the keyboard like a piano, like a makeshift instrument. In my youth, I took piano lessons as a child all the way to my early teenage years. Although I have not touched a piano ever since I still have some memories retained of the exercises I had to complete in my lessons. Each day I tried to recreate a piano ‘practice’ exercise from my memories. While I do not have an audio recording for each day, I thought it would be fun to record the letters that get typed as I press on my keys. The following is a record of the typed-out ‘musical’ notation from my exercises.
Day 1: Scales (playing the keys sequentially from left to right)
Ahjskdlf;g’h qwyueiprtiop[yu\ui[]
Day 2: Chords (playing the keys in groups of 3 at a time)
A’lgjd tqu[oe/zcv,n307914a’dfjl
Day 3: Chromatic Scales (playing the keys with ‘sharps’ and ‘flats’ sequentially from left to right or vice versa. This involves typing they keys in the above row in between each key)
hauwsjeidkorflotg;’gy[hausejdifkrotlgoyph;l
Day 4: Arpeggios (playing the notes of a chord in succession from left to right)
Hadkflsjflh’quoer[wirp]yznznc,.b
Although this was a really silly exercise that isn’t very coherent in a musical sense at all, it was fun to play around with the keyboard and think of it from a different perspective. As I played around with the notes it made me reflect on the satisfaction of typing things out and pressing buttons in general. Similar to how there is satisfaction with typing on a typewriter and hearing the different sounds that come from using its interface. I found it interesting how mechanical keyboard fanatics also love to customize their experience of using the keyboard so much (ranging from changing the colours of keycaps, experimenting with unconventional keyboard layouts, trying out different sizes, and so forth) that they even consider the loudness level of the keys being pressed. This made me think that an interface can be designed and customized based on each of our human senses.
Typing out my ‘piano’ keyboard exercises was a fun way to record my musical experiments with someone. It reminded me of reading and writing sheet music when I used to take my piano lessons. It would be really cool if each letter on the keyboard corresponded with a specific note, and if a person wanted to play a song they could type out a specific message or keyboard sequence of letters to hear a song. For example, written sentences could be a new form of musical notation meant to be played with a ‘keyboard instrument’. Paragraphs that we see could actually be representations of musical compositions.
