i · zárhang — the lock that sounds
logikai · inference — the game that will not tell you the ruleThe lock has a voice: four notes, in an order of its own. Answer it, and it answers back. Nothing here will tell you what a good answer is — there is no correct, no chime, no tally. There is only how open the lock sounds. Four answers it accepts and it rings open. Wrong answers cost nothing at all; the lock simply replies a little duller, and waits. If you leave it alone it will start offering you things to hear.
Silent. Press listen and the lock speaks first.
what the instrument recorded
How to play it, if you would rather be told. Answer the lock’s four notes with four of your own. Never simply repeat it — the lock will not accept its own phrase back. It accepts four different kinds of answer, and finding out what a kind is, by ear, is the game. Wired headphones. Keys A S D F, or the four pads.
Mindennapi játékok fő képességet, a következtetést úgy közelítjük meg, hogy a jutalom hangbéli megvalósításával alaposan megküzdünk. A gyakori elvonatkoztatások beleépülnek a játékba azáltal, hogy a rendszer kivárja az interakció létrejöttét miközben ezt az arra alkalmas hangok fokozatos bemutatásával serkenti. Amikor a hangbéli siker és sikertelenség megalapozódik, akkor a játékok különböző ha-akkor szabályok teljesítésre tanítanak.
Inference — the principal faculty of everyday games — is approached here by wrestling seriously with the sonic realisation of reward. The abstractions common to games are built in by having the system wait for the interaction to occur, while stimulating it through the gradual presentation of suitable sounds. Once success and failure are established in sound, the games teach the fulfilment of various if–then rules.
source note, 25 October 2017 — paragraph 2what this strand isolates
The capacity to induce a rule from evidence you were never given in words. Every player arrives at the same starting position — a device, some buttons, a sound — and no instructions whatsoever. Whatever structure they end up with, they built from what they heard. Three commitments follow from the source paragraph, and all three are unusual.
Reward is a timbre, not a token. The system never says correct. It becomes clearer, more open, more resonant: each accepted answer lifts the lock’s low-pass filter by one stage, adds a partial to its body, and lets it ring longer into its own room. The player learns to read a spectrum as feedback, which is itself a trainable skill and the reason this strand quietly teaches listening as well as logic.
The system waits. It does not prompt, nag or time out. It sits in a room tone until something happens. The 2017 phrase is kivárja az interakció létrejöttét — it waits out the coming-into-being of the interaction, which inverts nearly every commercial interaction pattern of the last twenty years.
Hints are graded, and they are sounds. While waiting, this lock introduces suitable sounds one at a time — the phrase again more slowly, then the phrase followed by one transformation of itself, then by another. Affordances offered rather than explained. The tutorial is made of instruments, not of arrows. Because nothing is stated, the hint ladder is the difficulty curve, and its rung spacing is the single most important tuning parameter in the strand: too fast and the game solves itself, too slow and the player concludes the device is broken. Getting it right is an empirical question, and one worth publishing — which is why the log below records when each hint arrived and how long after it the next attempt came.
the rest of the strand
- L2
Ha–Akkor · If–Then Weather
Two or three buttons over a soundscape — rain, wind, insects, a room somewhere behind them. Each button is a hidden conditional rather than a switch: if it is raining, this stops the rain; if it is not, this starts the wind. Six to eight states, reachable only along certain edges. The target scene is played once at the start, for six seconds, and then withdrawn. Find your way back to it. Field recordings morphed granularly rather than crossfaded, so a transition is travelled and not cut, and you can hear yourself moving even when you are moving the wrong way. measures — state-space coverage · redundant-press rate · planning depth · latency from last informative press to solution - L3
Kivárás · The Waiting Room
One button. Nothing happens. There is a room tone, and every forty seconds or so the room acquires one more thing that could be played: a click that rings faintly, a hum that bends if you hold it, a knock that answers once, after a pause. The only task is to find out when a press does something. Pressing at the wrong time costs nothing at all — and is logged. Its real subject is the player’s tolerance for a machine that does not immediately reward them; in a gallery it is the piece that sorts visitors into those who listen and those who have been trained by twenty years of interfaces to expect an answer within 400 ms. measures — press rate under zero reinforcement, an extinction curve · latency to first press · phase-locking to the room tone · tolerance before abandonment
Neither is built here. L2 needs a corpus of location recordings and a granular morph that a page cannot carry; L3 needs a player willing to sit with a browser tab for twenty minutes doing nothing, which is a thing a gallery can ask for and a web page cannot.