I Think I Can: a tiny world of big ideas
Version 0 of 1. The week had started so well for the Robot Designer: he’d finally been recognised for both his role in Daft Punk’s fame and as the creator of a robot that could take the drudgery out of house cleaning – a robot so impressive that when it came to cleaning up after Perthville’s fair, in the presence of the Queen no less, there was only one non-human for the job. It was then that the Robot Designer’s week started to go downhill. Rapidly. Like most people faced with too much cleaning, the robot lost its cool. But unlike most people faced with too much cleaning, the robot exploded all over the Queen – leaving the monarch needing hospital treatment. Suddenly the Robot Designer was an outcast; shunned by Perthville, instead of being lauded. (Perhaps unfairly: the exploding robot didn’t do too much damage. Given that the town is made from the sets of model trains – Perthville is serviced by at least five different train operators – whole families of tiny, tiny characters could have been lost in the blast. Many of whom will have this week already dodged mansion fires, army-run music festivals, a distinctly dodgy looking hotdog stand, and the clutches of Death.) Which is where I come in. I Think I Can is the small-scale creation of puppeteer Sam Routledge and video artist Martyn Coutts, populated by the stories of the full-size residents of Perth, who control the diminutive characters. When you arrive at the installation, a personality test determines which citizen will be under your control – the Robot Designer could not escape my grasp – and a flick through the local paper reveals what your character has been up to lately. Then it’s up to you to determine their future. The whole project has a really gorgeous playful feel about it. A storyteller walks you round the town, explaining what’s been going on in Perthville, and asking what you think your character might do next. The joy of it is that it really could be anything – and with anyone. There’s a whole town of avatars waiting to be involved in your storyline, and meeting them all was my favourite part of the experience, as we gossiped about who was getting up to watch and where. But there is also much more to enjoy. Every new storyline is recorded via a news story in the very smartly written I Think I Can newspaper, and once you’ve decided what horrors await your teensy weensy character, you can watch them come to life: the tiny models manipulated by enormous needles, and these small scenes recorded and broadcast on a big screen. Even better, you can come back and give them further adventures. It is all beyond charming. A celebration of community and storytelling and being a bit silly with people who – thank goodness – take these miniscule puppets and their lives more seriously than they probably should. So did I make Robot Designer’s week any better? You can read all about it here – I shall just add, cryptically, that the Rabbi fainted at the suggestion – and hopefully find more updates as we manipulate the poor man’s life in the next few days. • I Think I Can is at Hackett Hall Foyer, WA Museum, until February 19 and will continue as part of the Perth International Arts festival’s Great Southern festival at Albany Entertainment Centre from February 22 to March 1. |