Twin Cities Makers
February 24, 2010
There were air canons and circuit-bent Gameboys. There was The Game of Life, a two dimensional cellular automaton (a computer program that makes calculations based on rules. When this program is run, it shows a visual representation of the calculations; it creates mathematical, abstract animation). There were guitars made out of cigar boxes, a life-sized version of the game operation, and a three dimensional printer. I was in a warehouse packed from the entrance to the exit with onlookers talking with DIY engineers about their homegrown constructions and sipping complementary coffee, and this was the inaugural exhibition of the Twin Cities Maker.
Twin Cities Maker is an organization in the Metro Area devoted more to building than buying. ??I like stop motion animation like Nightmare Before Christmas,?? Steffin Griswold, one of the members of Twin Cities Maker, said to me while explaining how he animates using stop motion, ??but I?d rather make something a little less polished, a little more like Fantastic Mr. Fox.?? He gestured toward a large, green piece of fabric on which was standing a twelve inch figurine of a diesel-punk inspired, female character. She was supported with an aluminum stand also wrapped in the same green felt. ??I can?t afford a professional, lit green screen, but I can afford a twenty dollar piece of felt.?? It was February 13 and Steffin Griswold and I were speaking at Twin Cities Maker?s Minne-Faire at their newly opened studio, The Hack Factory, located at 3119 E 26th street.
They were just a bunch of people building in their garages until January 1, when the Twin Cities Maker officially formed and rented out a warehouse. The Minne-Faire was designed both as a fundraiser for the group and as a announcement to the Metro area of their existence. I had been circling the fair for a half-hour, picking up tidbits from conversations between exhibitioners and the people standing on the other side of the table from them. There was no unifying aesthetic except for an enthusiasm for all things handmade. Mr. Griswold was standing near the entrance to the Hack Factory in front of a table filled with characters for his animation and the tools he uses to build them. I saw he had a cyborg baby and two wolves on the table, and I stopped and began to speak with him. Around us were onlookers peering onto the tables lining the walls. To our left was a man who had built a 1000 watt wind turbine and to our right was a table full of movie prop replicas. There was a man selling handmade, hemp bracelets in the back and across the room from him was the Game of Life; there was an exceptional volume and diversity among both onlookers and DIY exhibitioners.
Steffin explained to me how he builds each of his characters over adjacent conversations and the occasional beep from the life-size game of Operation: he first builds a K?NEX-like aluminum skeleton, then he wraps that skeleton in small gauge wire. He creates a body using a polymer clay, Sculpey, which can be baked in a conventional oven to harden instead of a kiln. He then fabricates clothing, glues on fir, and paints their faces. ??Because she?s a bi-ped,?? Steffin points to the character on his green screen, then points to the stand supporting her, ??I needed to make her support. With high end animation you?ll see characters with big feet, that?s because they have bolts in their feet. When they?re making it walk, they bolt one foot to the floor to support the character. I have smaller feet on my characters, so I built this stand to hold them upright while I?m animating them walk. Then I just wrapped it in more felt from the screen so I can edit it out with Photoshop and After Effects.??
He spoke to me further about how he integrates live footage with animation by using the green screen. I thanked him, and walked toward the back of the warehouse where Tim Kaiser was setting up the instruments he built for a performance later in the evening. I stopped and stared at the three- dimensional printer, it was making a honeycomb of hexagons. I thought about all the information Steffin Griswold and the other exhibitioners at the fair had told me. Within thirty minutes at the Minne-Faire I learned a way to make stop motion animation, how to build a battery-charging wind turbine, and how to make a replica of a lightsaber. Instead of selling me a How-To book or teaching a class and making me pay, The Twin Cities Maker makes by hand the things they want and they are willing to share that information with anyone who is interested. I stared at the three-dimensional printer for a while longer and thought about the potential of a community of builders and learners. I wanted people to use lawn mower engines and boat propellers to build go-karts, then drive that to work. And I smiled at this notion and I walked to the back of the warehouse and saw Tim explaining to an onlooker how he built his electric cello while he was surrounded by a glow of sine waves on screens on his homegrown orchestra of musical machines. I stood, watched, and listened to him explain the bridge of his cello and play odd notes to demonstrate. Occasionally there was a buzz from Operation in the front that could be heard louder than the voices in the Hack Factory.
