So I’ve been working on a project to create a chromatic whistle for roughly six years.  It’s a typically long and protracted process for designing a musical instrument, but like so many of the things I’ve been involved with in the last few years, it might be taking longer than expected but it is actually turning out better than expected.  The instrument, which is likely to be called a ‘Toob’, is based on a new key system which leaves the initial tone hole layout and architecture of the whistle in tact – making it easy for musicians to adopt.  At the moment, it exists as a working prototype (it works, but it looks rubbish!), but there are still a few challenges to be faced in terms of the making and refinement.

Until now I’ve kept the design ‘under my hat’ so-to-speak – this is certainly the ‘traditional’ way of approaching innovation – show somebody your ideas and they will steal them!  But watching the effect that several big companies with this approach are having, and the recent emergence of collaborative working methods like open source, has caused me to think that there’s a huge amount to be gained from throwing the gates open, documenting our progress, and inviting feedback – so we can harness the expertise of the music community to make the best possible musical instrument we can.  It’s an approach which will stand in complete contrast to the ‘romantic’ vision of a instrument maker, shut away, tirelessly working to perfect their ‘masterpiece’.

In addition to myself, designer Brian Loudon (http://loud1design.co.uk) will be collaborating on the project and it’ll be introduced in more detail and documented on the mk blog.  It offers the opportunity for anyone to get involved with the design and testing of a next generation musical instrument.  I for one am excited by what we might come up with.

I finally managed to finish the design for the display stand – something that took considerably more effort than it perhaps should have.  I find so many ideas start out simple, but developing these ideas adds layers which give it depth, but also erodes the simplicity of the original idea.  I find latter stages almost always involve whittling things back to capture the freshness of the original idea.   This is certainly something that I’ve found holds true in any of the creative fields I’ve worked in – music, design, writing, photography, but then this might also be an approach which is specific to me – after all, if we all approached creating things the same way, then the chances are we wouldn’t come up with much creative!

This display stand has been designed as a point of sale to display musical instruments.  I originally  all the profiling of the material cut by the amazing process waterjet cutting – a high pressure stream of water which can cut through most things including metals, wood and stone.  As you can probably imagine the foam and ali used on the stand didn’t cause it too much problem.  The waterjet however couldn’t replicate the detail as seen on the top plate, and so laser profiling emerged as the best way to do this – more expensive but able to handle fine detailing much better.   Both processes pretty new to me, it was a really interesting project to work on and should open up some doors in the future.

The last few months have been little more than making whistles and ice climbing.  Along with Nik Powell we’ve been reviewing and improving the production processes we use for making the instruments.  Aside from a display stand to go into shops there’s been little in the way of new design.  While the amazing climbing in the Scottish highlands this winter has provided it’s own excitement and the weekly routine has been productive, there has been little in the way of new experiences to provide inspiration to take into a new design stage.   At times like this I try to remind myself that sometimes you have to keep your head down and get on with things until a window of opportunity appears [keeping your powder dry - as my dad would say].  In the mean time, here’s some pictures from weekend adventures of late:

Winter has been raging around us here is Scotland and we’ve been buried deep in the engine room at MK HQ looking over the production processes we use to make the whistles.  Whether it be another file stroke here or there, cutting out unnecessary work, or micro detail inspecting, the idea is to leave no stone unturned, and year on year we make improvements that work their way through into the final quality.

I’ve spent the last few weeks sporadically working on the design of a display stand to display the whistles I make in music shops, galleries or where-ever.  With it being a while since I’ve worked on any kind of new design, it’s been a bit of a re-introduction to the process and consequently it’s taking longer than it should.

It’s really just a tiny project within a project.  Nothing like some other mammoths I’ve been working on for years.  Even so it has reminded me about what I consider to be the most important, and probably the most overlooked, approach to creating things.  And that is….

GO GO GO!  get making things!  don’t worry about what it sounds, looks, plays or reads like.  What you are after is quantity, not quality.  Judging things is simply unproductive.  Solutions always emerge unchallenged, and your best work always happens when you are not thinking about it – something greater takes over.

I found this holds true in any of the creative field’s I’ve worked in:- music, writing, design and photography.

Sounds easy eh?

Almost a year after publishing my first book about experiences in Africa, I’ve taken a little time to reflect on the project.  The book, Bamako Boom Boom, was written to chronicle the sights, sounds and emotions of visiting somewhere like Africa for the first time.  I hadn’t done much reading or research before leaving for the trip – if I had I would have known too much to present it as an initial reaction – previous knowledge would in fact have tempered the formation of my own views.

Reliving the experience by writing it down reinforced my interest in Africa, so much so that when the final manuscript was sent to be printed, I went on a reading binge – taking in all I could find on the subject.  The most notable findings were Blayne Hardens ‘Dispatches from a fragile continent’, Richard Dowden’s ‘Africa’ and various works by the Polish journalist Ryzard Kapusincki.  These comprised some of the most thoroughly researched, well thought-out, and incisive writings about Africa I could find.  I was worried that conclusions I had come to and expressed in my book, wouldn’t in fact be based on enough of a breadth of experience to be classed as anything more than naive.

I didn’t realise it before I went but Africa fascinates me.    It sits out there on it’s own, and is the continent that the world would miss the most – in a complete reversal of the value traditionally given to it in political and economic spheres.  It’s disparate collection of people, places and cultures, which never ceases to dumbfound, horrify and amaze,  is as thrilling as you’ll find.  For me, this has manifested itself into a long term interest in the continent; it’s unlikely I’ll stop thinking about it, and words and pictures are the product of the thought.  It would at least be nice to think that the first attempt at recording some of these thoughts didn’t produce something rubbish.  For the time being at least, I’m not cringing.