Studio process and projects 26

Lucinda Zhang recorded all sounds that are characteristic for the Floating University territory. With these sounds Lucinda created an immersive audio experience that she performed in a building flled with fog. Lotti Gostic focused on the large amounts of insignifcant plastic waste that she found on the Floating University site. The plastic bottlecaps and packing materials were reused by her in games or melted into souvenirs.

Laura Frias Munoz del Serro celebrates the fascinating history of dropping food on the Tempelhof Airport area during the air siege in the Cold War. With her New Cargo Cult she provides the Nation with a ceremony to bless food. Yungkyung Lee provides the Floating Nation with a strategy for acquiring energy. Yunkyung mapped all public electrical outlets and designed a battery car, disguised as a planter box, to cunningly mask the act of stealing.

WHERE THE WATER FLOWS A mobility story Text by Jack Bardwell, illustrations by Guy Field

The recent rush towards autonomous vehicles and automation in general seems to be based on the idea that effciency and convenience are the only criteria for travel. In the framework of the Studio The Floating University I wanted to take a look at this seemingly inevitable path towards a driverless future and what this might mean for the experience of the city. While researching the topic of mobility with a particular focus on utopian ideas and corruption it became apparent that there was a media narrative appearing, driven by large corporations such as Google and Tesla towards their version of a driverless utopia. Seeing as these future speculations are fctional narratives spun by companies to spark imagination and generate hype around their brand and ultimately increase sales I decided that the best format for a counter argument would be that of fctional short story. Fictional writing, especially science fction has a brilliant way of getting us to ask the questions of today disguised as questions of the future. Are we able to operate on another plane to this emerging future and create a utopia of our own and if we did what would this feel like? Walking is the least corruptible form of transportation. The more we rely on technology for our mobility within the city the more opportunity there is for the manipulation of that process and therefore control of how we experience it. Walking is the least corruptible form of transportation. The more we rely on technology for our mobility within the city the more opportunity there is for the manipulation of that process and therefore control of how we experience it.

The Commute I turned the tap and waited, the water was always slow coming through this time of year. I heard it start somewhere above me, the cracking of the pipes readying themselves for the fow. I could hear its journey through the house until its release in front of me, crashing out into the basin like a river reaching a waterfall. I splashed the cool water over my face imagining I was out in a lush green landscape pausing for a moment’s refreshment. How free the water must feel when it is released for that moment from the confnes of the pipe. What does it make of this fork in the road? Is it just a feeting moment before returning into the next pipe below? Just a moment across my skin? Or, caught by my mouth, the start of a new journey into my body?

I close the tap. I’m late for work.

I was going to have to catch the next ride from the spot just around the corner from my local pickup point. I was beginning to get a reputation for being the outsider in this AVR (Autonomous Vehicle Rota) and a recent software update meant it was no longer possible to squeeze an extra person inside if it was already full, but they usually had a spare place. The cameras inside the car also made me feel uneasy. It’s not like anybody did anything worth watching inside, however. The morning commute rarely consisted of a nod to each other, although this seemed to be enough for them to communicate their distaste for me getting on at the wrong location. These AVRs may be referred to as car ‘sharing’ but the atmosphere was anything but. The sense of ownership that had been lost with the demise of the automobile seemed to have been replaced by a strange form of territorialism. The rest of the journey was an audio tapestry of separate conversations playing out simultaneously resulting in an incomprehensible whole. I sometimes liked to play a game where I imagined that they were engaging in some sort of new complex conversation with each other. In reality this overlapping of speech in physical space was a new form of silence. Just the illusion of sound, a shadow if you like, of sound produced for another space, it was not present there, it belonged somewhere else.

The more I thought about this the more it was not just about sound but the physicality of the people. Each person not present in their physical space but existing for another location for another conversation another place. In this way, within these modes of transport we became invisible. The streets were full of ghost cars, an empty city where the only real presence was the data streams themselves fowing from one place to another. We were merely the producers of the information, sometimes unaware of what we were even producing. I called this disappearing act travel silence.

although the speed of transport was getting close to making that a reality, but my presence was in the offce. Each person disappearing as their screens sparked to life. It became quite impossible to use the space for anything but working. It was my moment to catch up with stuff that I had left loose from the day before. I would listen to my emails, the same soothing voice in themorning, my responses adding to the on board travel silence. The bing and hiss of the doors signifed the end of email checking and my day at the offce began. You could really hit the ground running and since signing up the AVR scheme I was more productive than ever.

I joined the scheme coming up to a year ago now. It was a no-brainer really. Petrol and diesel vehicles were banned in many places, prices were consistently rising, before even thinking about tax or insurance, which for non-automated vehicles became ridiculously expensive as automated vehicles were almost 100% crash free. On top of that I’d only be using the car for the small time I was driving it and then having to pay a stationary fee while it sat empty in the street. Less and less roads were free to use and so unless I took a really long route into work I would be paying that on top of everything else. Whereas with an electric vehicle, I would be paying €1 maximum to fully charge up, which would cover the journey to work and back a couple of times. However, if I signed up to one of the AVRs it cost only a little bit more a month and everything was covered. I don’t have to worry about fuctuations in the road pricing, insurance, tax or any stationary fee as the AVR would always be in use for other journeys while I was at work.

Just like my phone contract it means that we always get upgraded with the latest vehicle. All with the added bonus that no one has to drive, hence all the extra time to work. Unlike public transport it’s never late and now that there are more and more automated vehicles on the road, traffc is no longer a problem. Some of the public transport was now also automated but it took the longest routes via all the advertisements and they were so large that the amount of stops became ridiculous. Not to mention that my premium monthly AVR pass from Google was only nominally more expensive than a public pass. Come to think of it I didn’t know anyone who had a public pass now.

Surface Tension The next morning I was late again, I didn’t even have time to splash water over my face. I grabbed my laptop and rushed out of the door to the usual spot. I ran over to the door and jumped in.“phew” I gasped. “Really thought I wasn’t going to make it.” My speaking was met with awkward glances, the usual response to someone breaking the unspoken code of Travel Silence. But it seemed longer and more tense than usual. There were no conversations, just fickering of eyes from me to the foor. In an attempt to change the scene I reached out action.“of course” I mumbled, realising how futile my attempt to pull close an automatic door was.“No, it’s not going to start moving until you leave.” I fumbled for my phone in my pocket and passed it against the reader. It turned red with a clunk. Those territorial bastards had turned on their location services meaning only people in their catchment area could use the AVR. They could see I was paying for the service in my area. What difference did it make?“no problem” I snapped, trying to keep my voice as insouciant as possible, even though I bubbled up with rage inside. I stepped outside.The door immediately hissing behind me, the vehicle snaking off into the city.

The air was cold and a light mist fell, doing little to cool my face, now hot with rage. I began walking but I had no clue as to the direction I should walk to get to work. I could perhaps fnd the nearest public transport hub but I didn’t have a pass and you could no longer pay for single journeys. My feet carried me on regardless, my head still in a haze of rage. I pulled my phone from my pocket trying to remember the address of my work, did I ever know it? I typed in the company name but there were more than six locations across the city and I had no idea which address I worked at. Trying to squeeze my phone back into my pocket I tripped and it went tumbling to the foor the glass smashing immediately. I froze. Looking down, I felt light headed and sick with anxiety. I folded over reaching for my phone but then, feeling the blood rushing to my head I steadied myself and slowly unfurled lifting my head up and drawing a deep breath. I felt the cool air flling my lungs and a sense of calm came over me. For the frst time I looked around.

I was stood in the middle of a junction, an untouched patch between paths of speeding vehicles. They did not notice me. Now more blurs of colour than moving objects, I could walk straight through them. As I began to move again I realised my power. Vehicles slowed automatically as they approached me or changed course to avoid me, their passengers oblivious to their manoeuvrings and to my presence. I was invisible to them now, I was no longer producing data and yet I had never been so present. Like the water leaving the tap I was no longer constrained, only a distant gravity of past experience was guiding me, I began to fow. I had purpose now. Not some location that I was to reach but rather each step became my destination, became home. Everything felt so crisp at this speed, there was so much detail and texture to the surfaces. The sound of cars became a distant ambient tone that soon disappeared along with their streaks of colour. I felt heavy, yet buoyant, like I was swimming through its