A
month and a half ago, we walked into the classroom to a few videos
about an amazing display of sand, sound and steel. The first video
showed a metal plate, mounted on a few sturdy legs and sprinkled with
sand. A man came onscreen and coaxed a ringing noise from the plate
with the help of a violin bow. As the noise built in intensity, we
all gasped; the sand slowly drifted into complex patterns, seemingly
of its own volition. While we were still trying to understand that,
the man dampened the corner of the plate with one finger and again
drew the bow across its edge. It rang out clearly, this time with a
lower sound, and the sand slid smoothly into a new pattern. With his
bow and fingers, the engineer in the video pulled pattern after
pattern from the sand. We all loved it. Just when we thought we had
it figured out, Leigh put on another video. In the center of the
frame stood a round old table, weighed down with four piles of
multicolored sand. Another hand came on-screen and began dragging a
rubber mallet across the top of the table. It let out a similar
ringing noise and the sand began immediately to spread into a star
pattern. As we saw differences and similarities between this video
and the last, we realized that we didn't understand the phenomenon as
much as we thought. A final video showed the same phenomenon as the
first two, but instead of an acoustic sound, the designer had hooked
the plate up to a set of speakers and was using a tone generator to
make it ring.
Leigh turned the TV off and stepped to the front to ask us a few questions and make us think about what we'd watched. After a few minutes of discussion, she called for attention and told us that what we were talking about was a device called a Chladni Plate, named after Ernst Chladni, an 18th century scientist who pioneered studies in sound and physics. Splitting into three teams, we awaited our assignment. She gave us six weeks and thirty dollars to build a plate of our own. With that, she left the room and we were left to our own devices. I led one team, Austin led another, and Christopher took the third. We met that evening and talked through some ideas, trying to make sure we didn't overlap on each others projects. My original plan was to experiment with multiple plates and a myriad of tools to gain a better understanding, Austin's goal was to program and build an electronic plate like the final example, and Christopher thriftily decided to try to replicate that first plate using as little money as possible.
We weren't always thinking about it, but we made pretty steady progress over the next few weeks. We all agreed that a Chladni Plate has roughly three elements: a resonating surface, a tool to resonate it with, and an indicator, such as sand, to show the sound waves. To understand the plate, each of the leaders assigned a few people to research various aspects of the plate. One of the researchers commented on the project saying, “It was very enjoyable to me, as I had never considered in detail how sound waves produced distinct physical patterns.” Someone else told me, “I liked the project because it was unique; not something you see every day.” The research came along well, though it got extremely technical at times. Even so, we seemed to understand the concepts well enough. Unfortunately, because the project had so few parts, the leaders weren't able to give everyone a lot to do. Gathering feedback after the project, we heard one criticism more than any other: that the groups were too large and some people felt like their potential was being wasted.
Austin and Samuel were well into the programming phase of their setup by the time we started assembling our plate. With more than a week to spare, my group left to find a plate. By this time, we had decided to build one thing which we knew would work before going off on an experimental binge. So the first thing we had to find was something which would resonate. At the hardware store, we found a twelve-by-eighteen inch steel plate which rang beautifully when we tapped it. We thought it was perfect, so we picked it up, along with a post to support it on, a bolt to attach it with, and a few washers to keep it away from the wood. Because we had seen it work in an abundance of videos, we also ordered a cheap violin bow online.
The problems came when we put it all together. Though the suspended plate had a great ring to it, the flimsy bow couldn't get a squeak out of it. We had been counting on the bow to work, so when it failed, we began to worry. As the deadline approached, the development side of our team tried everything to get the plate to work. No matter what we tried, we couldn't reproduce the patterns which Ernst Chladni discovered. The same story pervaded each team. “It was fun,” wrote one of the fellows, “but a bit directionless and frustrating. We knew our plate wasn't working right, but we couldn't figure out the exact problem, let alone the solution.”
The night before we had to present, we found ourselves clustered in three dejected groups, trying final experiments and more importantly, brainstorming problems and solutions. Our only hope lay in the presentations we had been preparing. If we couldn't make the plates work, we could at least attempt to understand them.
We presented the next day.. As we expected, none of the plates worked like we wanted them to, and while we were able to display the beginnings of some hazy patterns, they were nothing like the wild curves which we would have indicated our success. Leigh brought a friend, someone who knew the ins and outs of Chladni plates, to observe our attempts. He talked with us and gave us some information we hadn't found elsewhere, vital, practical tips for building a working plate. He left and we continued talking through our problems. We all had money left from the original supply, so we resolved to revisit the plates after we return from Italy and our schedules are a little less hectic.
Overall, the project was a great experience. We had the chance to work together to create something exciting, and while the plates didn't quite work the right way, we had a great time exploring them with each other. Some of us gained insight into our own skills, like one of Austin's teammates who said, “I really enjoyed it. I like electronics work, but hadn't had much hands-on experience until now. My team leader taught me a lot in a subject I might want to pursue.” Some dug in to building the plate itself, and most people enjoyed the communal aspect. It pushed everyone involved and forced us to try to work through seemingly impossible difficulties. None of us were fully comfortable, and we were forced to adapt to a tough situation. Everyone was fully committed to seeing it through, and personally, I don't think I've ever enjoyed working on a group project more, even though we were all disappointed and frustrated by the outcome. We take comfort knowing that we're not finished, and we echo the words of Thomas Edison, saying, “We have not failed, we have just found ten thousand ways not to build a Chladni Plate."
Leigh turned the TV off and stepped to the front to ask us a few questions and make us think about what we'd watched. After a few minutes of discussion, she called for attention and told us that what we were talking about was a device called a Chladni Plate, named after Ernst Chladni, an 18th century scientist who pioneered studies in sound and physics. Splitting into three teams, we awaited our assignment. She gave us six weeks and thirty dollars to build a plate of our own. With that, she left the room and we were left to our own devices. I led one team, Austin led another, and Christopher took the third. We met that evening and talked through some ideas, trying to make sure we didn't overlap on each others projects. My original plan was to experiment with multiple plates and a myriad of tools to gain a better understanding, Austin's goal was to program and build an electronic plate like the final example, and Christopher thriftily decided to try to replicate that first plate using as little money as possible.
We weren't always thinking about it, but we made pretty steady progress over the next few weeks. We all agreed that a Chladni Plate has roughly three elements: a resonating surface, a tool to resonate it with, and an indicator, such as sand, to show the sound waves. To understand the plate, each of the leaders assigned a few people to research various aspects of the plate. One of the researchers commented on the project saying, “It was very enjoyable to me, as I had never considered in detail how sound waves produced distinct physical patterns.” Someone else told me, “I liked the project because it was unique; not something you see every day.” The research came along well, though it got extremely technical at times. Even so, we seemed to understand the concepts well enough. Unfortunately, because the project had so few parts, the leaders weren't able to give everyone a lot to do. Gathering feedback after the project, we heard one criticism more than any other: that the groups were too large and some people felt like their potential was being wasted.
Austin and Samuel were well into the programming phase of their setup by the time we started assembling our plate. With more than a week to spare, my group left to find a plate. By this time, we had decided to build one thing which we knew would work before going off on an experimental binge. So the first thing we had to find was something which would resonate. At the hardware store, we found a twelve-by-eighteen inch steel plate which rang beautifully when we tapped it. We thought it was perfect, so we picked it up, along with a post to support it on, a bolt to attach it with, and a few washers to keep it away from the wood. Because we had seen it work in an abundance of videos, we also ordered a cheap violin bow online.
The problems came when we put it all together. Though the suspended plate had a great ring to it, the flimsy bow couldn't get a squeak out of it. We had been counting on the bow to work, so when it failed, we began to worry. As the deadline approached, the development side of our team tried everything to get the plate to work. No matter what we tried, we couldn't reproduce the patterns which Ernst Chladni discovered. The same story pervaded each team. “It was fun,” wrote one of the fellows, “but a bit directionless and frustrating. We knew our plate wasn't working right, but we couldn't figure out the exact problem, let alone the solution.”
The night before we had to present, we found ourselves clustered in three dejected groups, trying final experiments and more importantly, brainstorming problems and solutions. Our only hope lay in the presentations we had been preparing. If we couldn't make the plates work, we could at least attempt to understand them.
We presented the next day.. As we expected, none of the plates worked like we wanted them to, and while we were able to display the beginnings of some hazy patterns, they were nothing like the wild curves which we would have indicated our success. Leigh brought a friend, someone who knew the ins and outs of Chladni plates, to observe our attempts. He talked with us and gave us some information we hadn't found elsewhere, vital, practical tips for building a working plate. He left and we continued talking through our problems. We all had money left from the original supply, so we resolved to revisit the plates after we return from Italy and our schedules are a little less hectic.
Overall, the project was a great experience. We had the chance to work together to create something exciting, and while the plates didn't quite work the right way, we had a great time exploring them with each other. Some of us gained insight into our own skills, like one of Austin's teammates who said, “I really enjoyed it. I like electronics work, but hadn't had much hands-on experience until now. My team leader taught me a lot in a subject I might want to pursue.” Some dug in to building the plate itself, and most people enjoyed the communal aspect. It pushed everyone involved and forced us to try to work through seemingly impossible difficulties. None of us were fully comfortable, and we were forced to adapt to a tough situation. Everyone was fully committed to seeing it through, and personally, I don't think I've ever enjoyed working on a group project more, even though we were all disappointed and frustrated by the outcome. We take comfort knowing that we're not finished, and we echo the words of Thomas Edison, saying, “We have not failed, we have just found ten thousand ways not to build a Chladni Plate."
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