Electroplankton
- Platform: Nintendo DS
- Published by: Nintendo
- Developed by: Toshio Iwai
- Release Date: Nov 14, 2005
- Genre: Other
- Multiplayer: No
- Online: No
- The Good
- + You don't see stuff like this every day
- The Bad
- - Some people may not want to
Electroplankton Review
-- October 12, 2005 by: Chris Remo
As you may have read, I recently imported iNiN's crazy rhythm game Osu! Tatakae! Ouendan! (DS), and along with it I also picked up Toshio Iwai's Electroplankton (DS). Electroplankton, more than just about any game I own, is extraordinarily difficult to categorize. See, right there, I may have already been inaccurate, depending on your point of view. I'm not even sure Electroplankton is a game. It comes in the form of a cartridge that is used in a video game system, the Nintendo DS, but as a largely abstract music synthesis environment it lacks almost all of the qualities we would generally associate with a game.
I'm going to delay that particular esoteric discussion for another article, however. For now, let's not focus on what Electroplankton should be called, but rather on what it's all about and whether you might want it yourself. The game was "Created by Toshio Iwai," as stated on the game's packaging, its instruction manual, and even its tiny cartridge. Iwai, a multi-medium "media artist" of almost cult status in Japan and other parts of the world, handled the direction, design, and programming of the game. There was a small supplemental team, but as with all of Iwai's ventures he had complete creative control as well and handled most of the production and development himself. The game is packaged in a reflective blue cardboard box about the size of two standard DS cases, and contains a regular DS case and a set of ear bud headphones; the manual was a pleasant surprise. At least 80% of its 64 pages are completely hand-illustrated and hand-lettered (in incomprehensible-to-me Japanese) by Iwai. Nintendo has announced plans to bring Electroplankton to non-Japanese territories, and my hope is that the manual gets the full translation treatment. It would be heartbreaking to see the game ship with a standard 15-page glossy booklet instead of Iwai's surplus of simple but charming line art.
What did I call Electroplankton before? A "largely abstract music synthesis environment"? Sure, but for the sake of brevity, let's just stick with "game." Upon loading the game, the player hears the distinct sound of an orchestra tuning up and is given two options: Performance Mode and Audience Mode. In Performance Mode you choose from ten different types of creatures, the titular electroplankton. Each species gives the player a different means by which to create or manipulate music or other sounds. They are all presented as small smiling stylized sea creatures, and are all directed in some way with the stylus. In Audience Mode, the game will select one species and take control itself, sometimes randomly and sometimes through clearly pre-defined interactions. However, at any time, you are free to intervene and modify any aspect of what's going on. Since the plankton are so wildly varied in terms of control and purpose, here's an individual rundown on the workings of a few of them. Throughout the descriptions I have included a few links to examples of sound clips generated with Electroplankton. Give them a listen if it strikes your fancy!
Selecting the first plankton, Tracy, generates six triangular creatures, each one representing a different instrumental sound: piano, bell, a plucked string instrument, and a few types of pitched percussion. Using the stylus, you draw paths on the touch screen for each plankton to follow. As they travel, they play notes determined by the curve and location of the paths you draw. Additionally, the tempo at which the notes are played depends on how quickly you drew the path. If you begin dragging the stylus across the screen slowly then gradually speed up, the plankton's melody will start off slowly then increase in tempo. Pressing left or right on the d-pad will decrease or increase, respectively, tempo across the board, and pressing Select will erase all paths and stop the sounds.
In my experience, it is not worth attempting to form a coherent melody or harmony using Tracy, despite the presence of six distinct timbres. It is simply too difficult to approximate a melody given the sensitivity of the paths; even a slightly chance in curve or position can have a great impact on pitch. For this reason, when I'm in a Tracy mood, I just abstract it out completely. I'll draw shapes or write things on the screen--my signature, for example--in different places and using different timbres, just to see what they sound like. You won't create a brilliant piece of music to show off to your friends, but let's get one thing out of the way now: Electroplankton is not music creation software. It's a personal musical experience...thing. The game will not save your creations, which is a little disappointing until you realize that 99% of the time you won't be generating anything worth saving. Electroplankton is entirely about the experience, from its whimsical visuals to its tactile interactions to its variety of sounds.
I'll touch on that a bit more later, but for now let's move onto door number two: Hanenbow. With Hanenbow, the player is presented with a fern-like plant, whose leaves can each be rotated 360 degrees. The Hanenbow electroplankton themselves are launched up out of another leaf, which can also be adjusted to modify the plankton's trajectory. As the little buggers land on and bounce around on the plant leaves, they will sound notes; each leaf has its own pitch. Pressing left or right on the d-pad will decrease or increase, respectively, the frequency with which plankton are launched onto the plant. With the ability to change the angle of plant leaves and the plankton's speed, there are essentially unlimited possibilities in terms of where the plankton will bounce and thus what melodies and rhythms they will form. One rather obvious "game" I play is to attempt to keep the plankton bouncing on the leaves as long as possible before they finally bounce off and plop down into the water below. This is another mode in which you won't necessarily find yourself attempting to create a specific melody--but every so often you'll just happen to hit upon a perfect assortment of angles and speeds, and your Hanenbow will be locked into a pleasing and hypnotic musical line. In fact, I've been letting one loop as I write this paragraph. It just so happened that two plankton fell into a really pleasing descending harmony. This is one of Electroplankton's great strengths. You're never quite sure what you're supposed to actually be doing with the thing, and then suddenly--ah, that's it. As the little guys suddenly get it together, you realize that's what it's all about. It's currently 5am as I write this; one dim light is on in my studio apartment, I hear the occasional car pass by my window, and behind it all a short and haunting melody plays quietly.
