Today, I dove into the quirky and ambitious world of Dinosaur Choir, a NIME 2023 paper by Brown, Dudgeon, and Gajewski. Yes – you read that right. It’s about playing music with dinosaur skulls. Well, replicas, but still! The idea? Reconstruct hadrosaur skulls (those duck-billed dinosaurs with dramatic nasal crests) to recreate their vocalizations through breath-powered instruments. It’s part speculative science, part interactive sound art, and part paleo-fan dream.
First impressions? It’s wild – in a good way. The concept of turning ancient anatomy into playable sound interfaces is not just fascinating but also incredibly poetic. You’re literally breathing life into extinct creatures. The goal isn’t only musical performance – it’s also science communication and education. As someone interested in design for mental well-being, I’m always drawn to tactile, embodied experiences. This feels like an emotional connection to the distant past, which is unexpectedly calming and awe-inducing.
Some things I really appreciated:
- The use of CT scan data and iterative digital modelling (with tools like Blender and 3D Slicer) shows a commitment to scientific integrity.
- They address accessibility and hygiene, especially post-COVID, by swapping out direct breath tubes for breath-activated microphones – smart move!
- The project is also intentionally speculative, acknowledging that no one can truly know how a hadrosaur sounded, but instead allowing users to explore different hypotheses through interactive sound.
But here’s where my inner critic perks up. While the project is undeniably cool, it feels like it’s trying to be everything at once: a scientific model, an artistic instrument, a museum exhibit, and an educational tool. That multiplicity is exciting, but also a bit scattered. I wonder if it might benefit from more intentional “mode-switching” -like, a toggle between “science mode” (where only plausible vocalizations are allowed) and “experimental mode” (go wild with dino-DJing). Right now, the boundaries seem a bit blurry.
Also, one half of my brain (the one I made up for this blog post 😄) was thinking about how this might connect with more emotional, inner experiences. What if, instead of performing music, someone used this as a way to reflect on loss? Extinction isn’t just scientific – it’s emotional. Could the dinosaur choir be part of a meditative installation about disappearance, transformation, and the long arc of time?
All in all, I love it. It’s weird, fun, surprisingly moving, and technically impressive. The Dinosaur Choir might not be the most conventional music interface, but it’s got soul. Or at least… breath.
You can find the whole article here.
