This thought provoking essay is from Jason A. Tselentis
Graphic designers, illustrators, artists, and advertisers will continue delivering all of the persuasive, informative, narrative, and poetic visual stimuli we see every single day, but others may seek out inventive ways to create shelter from it. They will fabricate new media to help consumers escape from new media, where we turn off (or worse yet, hide) from the abundance of stimuli.
The solution to information anxiety may not lie in better visual communication, but rather, leaving it all together. Solving creative blocks may best happen without a pencil in hand, with no fingers at the keyboard. Hiding behind noise-cancelling headphones to enjoy the latest Brian Eno ambience may necessitate a sight-cancelling embodiment so we can fully appreciate the calming music without posters in our office distracting us. William Hurt’s character Dr. Eddie Jessup took that concept to a new high in the 1980 film Altered States, when he experimented with sensory deprivation tanks to achieve heightened awareness, crossing physiological planes of existence. During the 1980s, floatation tanks became the vogue method for relaxing one’s body, and some athletic teams such as the Dallas Cowboys and Bill Bergey of the Philadelphia Eagles used them to recover from strenuous play. Then, as much as now, floatation tanks and sensory deprivation appear luxurious, even bordering on voodoo; but in the future, we may require a similar means to fully shield ourselves from deafening noises and bombastic graphics.
Still, our bodies need to slip away, and we all know this, but sometimes need reminders. My reminder happened in a client’s small waiting room devoid of magazines, brochures, artwork, and disruptive noise. As luck would have it, I left my mobile phone in the car, and did not have the added tension of its ringer in my pocket for the thirty minutes I sat waiting. This small room was also equipped with a white noise machine, delivering a soothing sound. We’ve each had moments like these, sometimes they happen on accident; sometimes they happen purposefully. I would frequent James Turrell’s Skyspace, located in the Henry Art Gallery, to intentionally escape my graduate school rigors. Those who have experienced the Skyspace, or any of Turrell’s other light sculptures, can appreciate the spiritual effects. We may crave them so much, that we choose to live in a minimalist environment, similar to the one illustrated in BusinessWeek below.
Entering the vacuous apartment illustrated in BusinessWeek, sitting in a quiet waiting room for a client, or gazing out of Turrell’s Skyspace can help us take time off—even momentarily—and initiate the parasympathetic nervous system’s rest and digest process. As humans withstand more and more stimulation and interaction, through computers, hand-held devices, or televisions, we may need a greater distance from that media to relax and initiate the parasympathetic responses. Taking 30-40 minute breaks out of doors may not be good enough because a passerby has an obnoxious mobile phone conversation happening, or an iPod hooked up to portable Bose speakers with jarring music erupting at us. Selecting the right restaurant to escape our 9 to 5 jobs has become just as trying, with televisions plastering many walls and the clicking customer adjacently tapping on a Blackberry.
Creating artificial habitats that better isolate us from stimuli will require artists, designers, color theorists, or audio designers to partner with architectural, interior, or exhibition designers. James Turrell is one artist who has taken on that challenge, and while some view Skyspace as art, it looks like the future to me. Designers such as John Maeda and Peter Saville also experimented with spirituality in the DVD ColorCalm: By Design: juxtaposing sound with light for the comfort of your living room or office computer.
Because the battle to win consumer and audience attention grows bigger and bigger, covering more and more space, soothing our senses may require more extreme measures than visiting an art gallery or plugging in a colorcalm DVD. The cold war brought about a rise in bomb shelters. Crime sprees during the 1990s pressured homeowners to install panic rooms. What residential innovation will we see over the years, when the ever-growing information superhighway becomes pervasive? Futurists see hover cars, video phones, space travel, and touch-screen computing this century or next, but I believe sensory deprivation rooms will reside in every home.
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