Architizer News
Mechanized Calligraphy
October 5, 2011
水书法器 Water Calligraphy Device – BJDW Clip from Nicholas Hanna on Vimeo.
For this year’s inaugural Beijing Design Week, artist Nicholas Hanna mounted a portable printing device to a tricycle that leaves behind a trail of dotted characters wherever it goes. Dubbed the “Water Calligraphy Device,” the machine is programmed by a laptop fastened to the handlebars that relays texts from Chinese literature back to the printer which then converts the characters into dots. Pressure valves synchronized to the printer release the droplets of water as the tricycle is propelled forward. Instant calligraphy! Read More!

Photo: designboom
Traditional Chinese culture finds its ultimate reality in its written language, which is, in turn, bound to the classical practice of calligraphy–the zero point of the history of Chinese art. Calligraphy may have begun with the first written language, around the 28th century B.C., a simple code comprised of a series of lines, broken or continuous, arranged in a manner which abstracted physical experiences. By the 3rd century B.C., a more robust system of writing was realized with the development of pictograms, the first characters, which initiated an artistic form that was to continuously evolve over the next millennium, up until Mao’s standardization policies and the drive toward Han unification of the 20th century.
BIG, Ren (People’s Building)
What does this imprecise historical overture have to do with the printable calligraphy machine in the video above? A lot, considering the fact that characters still play a central role in Chinese culture, whether in art, iconic architecture (BIG, anyone?), or recreation. This is most evident in the relatively common practice of water calligraphy, whereby people, particularly the elderly, slowly yet effortlessly inscribe pavement with evanescent calligraphy strokes. Characters pass in and out of existence in a matter of minutes, but despite this, the etcher faithfully continues his efforts.
Whereas water calligraphy is act of intent, both a form of therapy and physical exercise and an expression of individuality, Hanna’s machine is the opposite, aloof, ungraceful, and, perhaps, irreverent. Yet, while it would be easy to critique Hanna’s creation as an act of Western arrogance (the tourist’s infantilization of the native other), there is charm in the machine’s clumsy aping of this regional practice. As machines grow more and more intelligent, we may see maladroit self-learning mechanized metamorphosize into veritable artists.







