Artwork #4: Drum Hardware Malfunction

For my final project, I made a rhythm game with a custom controller. Notes move vertically down the screen in two columns in a similar format to Guitar Hero. The player must press a button corresponding to each column once a note hits a baseline. Pressing the button too early, too late, or not at all will negatively impact the player’s score. A snare drum sound is made when the left button is pressed, while the right button plays a bass drum sound. A servo on the controller will activate at random times, pulling a string that in turn pulls the wire connecting the controller to the game. This wire has a magnetic tip, meaning the USB-C tip plugged into the controller can be magnetically separated and reattached to the rest of the wire. When the servo pulls on the string, the wire’s tip breaks off, severing the connection between the controller and the game. To continue hitting notes in the game, the player must reattach the magnetic tip to the wire, which involves twisting the servo back into its original position. The player’s goal is to get the highest score they can, but a perfect score is nearly impossible due to the self-disconnecting controller. You can watch gameplay here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Fjpv5TO64HvtH2-Xw-vm0T13uW-cstFb/view

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My primary inspiration for this project comes from my numerous experiences playing drum kits, both acoustic and electric, that fall apart during play. These situations range from a bass pedal shifting out of place to an entire electric drum kit frame splitting in half and collapsing (though fortunately, the latter has never happened during a performance (knock on wood!)). In a scenario similar to my game’s controller, an older electric kit that I played with had a module that would unplug upon slight movements, causing it to stop taking inputs and producing sound. Essentially, whenever I’m playing a drum kit, I have to worry about it falling apart as I play: maintaining and fixing the kit on the fly has become a part of the challenge of playing the drums, just as much as skills like playing the right notes and keeping in time. I was also inspired by Chris Burden’s “Samson,” in which museum visitors contribute to the building’s potential collapse by passing through a turnstile to view an exhibit, and the instrument-destroying performances of The Who, themselves inspired by Fluxus artist Robin Page’s “Guitar Piece.”

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It’s worth noting that the controller is intentionally not very stable: its body is made from a ripped cardboard box; the electronic components aren’t encased in anything other than some tape; the wires connecting the servo and button to the microcontroller are loosely wrapped around the microcontroller pinholes rather than soldered. Any damage to these parts could render the controller permanently unusable and the game unplayable. There are other points of vulnerability that can cause the wire-unplugging mechanism to cease working: the string connecting the servo to the controller wire can snap or come undone; the servo can break due to the player manually twisting it; the tape holding the microcontroller down might come apart, causing the string to not have enough tension to pull the wire apart from the controller. In a sense, damage to these parts might make the game more playable due to the controller not being able to unplug itself, allowing the player to play the rhythm game uninterrupted. But would this make the game more fun? Without the controller disconnecting from time to time, the game loses its uniqueness, becoming a run-of-the-mill rhythm game without any distinct character.

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With the player being aware of the controller’s fragility, they know there’s the risk that as they play, the controller might permanently break in a way that makes the game unplayable in its intended state. The only way to ensure this doesn’t happen is to not play the game at all. Therefore, the player’s fundamental choice is to decide whether or not to play the game, and if so, for how long. Of course, this choice is based on the perspective of each player. Some might not want to play it out of concern for being responsible for breaking it and preventing others from playing it, though if all potential players were to make this choice, no one would ever play it. Others might only play it once because they simply didn’t enjoy the gameplay loop. If a player enjoyed the rhythm game mechanics but disliked the labor of reconnecting the controller during gameplay, then they might play in hopes that the wire-unplugging mechanism does break. Meanwhile, others might enjoy the physical toy-like aspect of twisting the servo, as it brings a dimension of interactivity uncommon in video games. Some people might be deterred by the theoretical impossibility of a perfect score, while others might be drawn to this challenge and push the limits of the controller’s workings to strive for perfection. Ultimately, if players do find the game worth playing, they must try their best to maintain the controller’s structural integrity, much like they maintain the controller’s connection during gameplay. Even if the controller may break in a way beyond the player’s control, I would hope the time spent playing the game is worthwhile.

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When so many things fall apart the more they’re put to use, it’s hard to decide whether or not to engage with them at all. Understanding the act of falling apart and/or putting back together as an essential component of the overall experience can make this experience better, but the choice still creates anxiety when there’s the possibility of permanent damage. I think doing something for the time being is often the better option when the alternative is doing nothing in fear of an eventual end. But if it’s something worth doing, then it’s also worth the effort to do it sustainably to make it last.