Colour Chaser has been picked up by Hexaproject, a Japanese nonprofit that plans to mass produce the design in collaboration with the toy manufacturer Cube-Works. “There’s something amazing about mass production in that it allows my work to reach people I might never have expected,” says Suzuki, who was born in 1980 and grew up at a time when computers were beginning to liberate music-making in both instrumental technique and musical knowledge, speeding the proliferation of new electronic genres, as well as instruments like the synthesizer. “Electronic instruments used to be expensive, but that was a transitional time for things becoming cheaper,” he says. “The second-hand market was taking off and you could discover so much in the music shops. I’m a designer, so I’m always looking at the aesthetic of equipment – that time saw so much movement between design, sound and interface.” It is fitting, then, that the experiments and prototypes in his studio have a charmingly old-school feel, held together as they are by crocodile clips and insulation tape. Dozens of projects are in train, with assistants and interns grafting away, hunched over computers. Suzuki picks up Qu’est-ce que c’est, a contraption made of multiple criss-crosssing wires that was commissioned by designer Tord Boontje for his 2016 exhibition Electro Craft, a show examining ways of producing consumer electronics away from the constraints of mass production. On closer examination you realise that Qu’est-ce que c’est is creating the illusion in a 3D outline of a mid-1980s portable cassette player – a method of highlighting the interior workings of the appliance, but also of representing such devices iconographically in a gesture towards their role in cultural history. Asked about it, Suzuki cites the ghetto-blaster that Talking Heads’s David Byrne carts on stage to perform ‘Psycho Killer’ at the opening of the concert movie Stop Making Sense (1984). “Ghetto blasters were not only playback equipment,” says Suzuki. “They really penetrated the culture and a big part of my practice is looking at the cultural context around sound. Sound is one of the most significant elements in most people’s daily lives, but we don’t typically consider that.” The abundance of visual noise in Suzuki’s studio is emblematic of its owner’s methodology. Suzuki moves between process and products, speculative design and practical outcomes, as part of a portfolio approach that is not dependent upon any one patent or device. “I feel quite Japanese in that respect,” he says. “I want to bite many different things. My mentality is like a bento box, with a lot of different elements that I want to experience within one practice.” Suzuki has built a client list that includes specialist companies such as the synthesizer brand Moog, as well as corporations like Google. “It’s important to be dedicated to a single project sometimes,” he says. “But my approach means that I can generate a lot of ideas and then have the space to take them in whatever direction I please.” AR Music Kit, an android app developed with Google’s Data Arts Team, began life as a consultancy project, before resulting in a series of patterned paper cards that can be attached to any object to form an impromptu musical instrument. The user plays notes by covering up the patterns, which are detected by a smartphone camera, enabling the phone to generate a corresponding sound in response. It’s an accessible invention that 196
A wire maquette for Qu’est-ce que c’est, developed for the 2016 Electro
Craft exhibition.
Qu’est-ce que c’est, 2016.
AR Music Kit, 2016.