by cornelia.wysoudil -

#13 Combining Elevation, Floods, and Touch

After experimenting with spaghetti mountains and 1:10,000 land-consumption patches, I’ve found myself drawn toward a new direction – one that combines topography, climate data, and tactile experience into a single, tangible system. This post is about bringing those earlier experiments together under a more urgent, nationally relevant theme: flood risk in Austria.

Where I’m Coming From

So far, my prototypes have had one foot in playful material exploration and the other in physical data storytelling:

  • The Spaghetti Schlossberg turned abstract elevation data into a tactile mountain – wobbly and imperfect, but rich with potential.
  • The Land Use Patch made daily land consumption physically touchable, swapping colors for textures to communicate proportion, pressure, and permanence.

While they felt like separate ideas at first, both were really about the same thing: using touch to interpret spatial data in a more embodied way.

A Shift in Focus: Austria, Climate, and Tactile Maps

After researching climate impacts in Austria, especially the floods in 2024 in Vienna and Lower Austria, I began asking a new question:

What would it feel like to touch the places most vulnerable to climate risk?

This led me to the idea of creating a tactile flood risk map of Austria, combining elevation and flood zones into one cohesive, touchable landscape. The concept builds directly on what I’ve done so far: layering materials, mapping by hand, and treating texture as information.

Inspiration: Harrison Cole and Tactile Environmental Mapping

A major turning point came when I watched Harrison Cole’s video on tactile maps. His research for his phd shows how important carefully designed tactile maps are and how they can communicate both geographic and thematic information – not just where things are, but how they relate, change, and affect us.

Especially relevant were:

These examples helped me see that tactile design isn’t just about accessibility, but also about expanding the way everyone can perceive environmental risk – with their hands, not just their eyes.

What I’m Building Next

For my next prototype, I’m sketching out a physical map of Austria that shows both elevation and flood-prone areas. Here’s the plan:

  • Stacked cardboard or foam to build elevation in simplified contour layers.
  • Flood zones represented using sponge, felt, or soft rubber – anything that feels “wet” or absorbent.
  • Possibly include overlays from my land-use prototype (gravel, concrete, grass) to link impermeable surfaces to higher flood risk.

By combining these, I hope to answer:

  • Can we physically feel the risk tied to elevation and development?
  • How does texture communicate urgency or vulnerability better than visuals alone?
  • Could this be used in climate education or planning contexts?

Why Flood Risk?

Austria isn’t immune to climate impacts. The floods in Vienna and along the Danube aren’t isolated events. They’re part of a broader pattern of intensifying risks tied to both urban development and changing weather patterns.

A tactile map could:

  • Make climate data more accessible to visually impaired users.
  • Create a more memorable experience for general users.
  • Encourage reflection and conversation around geography, infrastructure, and preparedness.

Final Thoughts

What began as two strange lo-fi experiments have merged into something more purposeful. This third prototype will be a test of that synthesis: Can elevation, land use, and flood vulnerability live on the same board? Can they tell a story not just visually, but viscerally?

References & Links

by cornelia.wysoudil -

#a NIME-Paper Review – Listening to Swarms – Thoughts on “Interactive Sonification of 3D Swarmalators”

The NIME 2024 paper Interactive Sonification of 3D Swarmalators by Pedro Lucas et al.—a project that merges swarm intelligence with sound and music systems in an unusual and intriguing way. Their work explores what happens when coupled oscillators (called “Swarmalators”) move in 3D space and interact through both spatial and phase dynamics, resulting in emergent sonic behavior.

What I Found Fascinating

First, the concept of “sound swarming” is compelling. Each swarmalator acts as a tiny sound generator (an oscillator), and together they form a swarm that evolves over time. As the swarm grows or changes state, the collective sonic output transforms, producing emergent, ambient textures. It’s like a synthetic ecology where sonic patterns ripple through space and time.

I really appreciated the balance between individual control (through the interactive swarmalator) and system-level complexity. The way one agent—controlled by a user—can gently nudge the entire swarm toward a new sound state (syncing phases or shifting spatial positions) reminds me of soft systems thinking, or how small disturbances in dynamic environments can guide large-scale changes. It’s a musical metaphor for influence and emergence.

Also interesting: the decision to use 3D space—not just as visual flair, but as a functional parameter in the sound synthesis. The angle between an agent’s position and the swarm center is mapped to modulation (LFO phase), which adds spatial logic to the sonic texture. This connection between location, rhythm, and pitch expands the expressive range of the system without overwhelming the user with complexity.

Critique or Question…

While I found the system architecture well thought out (especially the modular design between Unity and Max), I do wonder how accessible the musical outcomes really are for performers or audiences who aren’t already embedded in experimental sound practices.

  • What does “sound swarming” feel like to someone who isn’t reading the underlying equations?There’s an assumption that emergent sonic behavior is interesting in itself—which is often true—but I’d be curious about perceived musicality or narrative structure. How does the user know when something meaningful is happening?
  • How intuitive is the control? The interactive swarmalator is a smart concept, but its influence seems subtle and potentially slow. In a live performance context, would that control feel satisfying? Or would it feel like poking a beehive and waiting to see what happens?
  • Sonification or Composition? I’m torn between seeing this as a sonification project (data → sound) or a compositional tool. It seems to sit between both, but I’d love to see clearer articulation on whether the goal is to represent something through sound, or to compose emergent music through interaction.

What I Would Like to Explore Further

This system opens a door to interesting possibilities for multisensory representation, especially when combined with haptics or extended reality (which the authors mention as future work). Imagine if you could feel vibrations from nearby swarmalators, or use your hand in an AR space to guide sound clusters around you.

It also made me think about accessibility: how could this system be made tangible for someone who doesn’t rely on visual interfaces? Could you “hear” the swarm’s shape or “feel” its convergence? Maybe adding another sensory layer could help bridge that gap.

Finally, I’d love to see this concept applied to non-musical data—for example, using environmental or physiological data as inputs to control the swarm behavior. That could transform this into an ambient, perceptual feedback tool rather than just a sound art piece.

This paper definitely broadened how I think about interactive systems, sonic feedback, and emergence. While the sonic aesthetics may lean toward experimental music, the design principles offer insight into how complex systems can be explored through sound—not just explained, but felt.

Reference:

P. Lucas, S. Fasciani, A. Szorkovszky, and K. Glette, “Interactive Sonification of 3D Swarmalators,” in Proc. Int. Conf. New Interfaces for Musical Expression (NIME), Utrecht, The Netherlands, Sep. 2024. [Online]. Available: https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10948289

https://artsengine.engin.umich.edu/previous_projects/unnatural-nature-eco-art/

by cornelia.wysoudil -

#10 Information Aesthetics – Designing Data for Meaning and Emotion

Listen, Hear, Feel the Data

Data is more than numbers and patterns—it holds meaning, tells stories, and can evoke emotions. The concept of information aesthetics explores how data can be visually, sonically, and physically designed to stimulate perception, enhance comprehension, and create emotional engagement.

When we experience information through multiple senses, its impact extends beyond cognition into intuition, memory, and even decision-making. Whether through color, sound, movement, or tactile feedback, aesthetically designed data fosters deeper interaction and stronger connections between people and information.

The Art of Seeing, Hearing, and Feeling Data

We often judge visualizations based on their clarity and efficiency, but aesthetics play a crucial role in guiding what we focus on, how we interpret relationships, and how long we stay engaged. A well-designed data experience is not just informative—it is compelling. Consider how:

  • Color Theory Influences Interpretation: A thoughtful color palette can enhance clarity, while poor color contrast can distort perception.
  • Rhythmic Sonification Structures Attention: Sounds designed with natural rhythm and progression help listeners identify anomalies and trends.
  • Spatial Composition Guides the Eye: The placement of elements determines where users look first, how they navigate data, and what insights they extract.

Just as visual artists and musicians use balance, contrast, and movement to evoke responses, information designers must think beyond efficiency to craft experiences that engage both the analytical and emotional mind.

Aesthetic Principles in Multisensory Data Design

  1. Minimalism vs. Expressiveness – Some data benefits from minimalist clarity, while other datasets gain meaning through rich, expressive representation. Over-simplification can strip data of nuance, while overly complex displays risk overwhelming users.
  2. Flow and Rhythm – In interactive data experiences, transitions and animations should mirror the natural way we process information—progressively revealing insights rather than dumping data all at once.
  3. Contrast as a Communication Tool – Just as bold colors or sharp sound changes draw attention to key insights, subtle variations add layers of meaning without overpowering the primary narrative.

A well-balanced information aesthetic does not compete with understanding—it enhances it.

Multisensory Aesthetics in Action

  • Sound-Responsive Data Sculptures: Transforming datasets into physical, auditory installations allows users to walk through and experience information in space.
  • Generative Music from Climate Data: Environmental conditions translated into dynamic, evolving compositions make shifting weather patterns tangible.
  • Interactive Narrative Dashboards: Rather than static charts, users navigate data as a story unfolding in time, with smooth transitions and layered insights.

Data, when designed aesthetically, is not just understood—it is felt, remembered, and lived.