The Guhl Forge · a personal exhibition by Eric Guhl
Notes toward an instrument for information.
Most software for notes treats the page as the shape of what you know. The work shown here starts somewhere else: with the things a page is about, how they can be told apart, and the different ways the same things can be seen.
1 As written
Mon, 1 Mar Must return the atlas by Thursday the 4th. Someone at the market said the orchard is in bloom all through April; worth the trip. Booked the 8:40 ferry for 12 June. Still humming a tune from the café and can’t place it. Calling 2027 the long-walk year.
2 As kept
3 As drawn on 2027
On view
Project Winchester
A continuing experiment in building an instrument for working with information, the way a music program or a drawing program is an instrument for sound or line: something to compose with, not only to file things in.
It exists as a private application in active development: a web app and its API, small iPhone and Mac apps, and a canvas drawn in Rust. Many of its forms are deliberately provisional. The exhibition shows its ideas, worked through one example at a time, and none of its contents.
Read the project overviewThree habits it questions
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i
A page is a carrier.
A page, a recording, a message: each is evidence worth keeping exactly as it came. It need not be the permanent boundary of everything it mentions.
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ii
Being inside is not belonging.
Something can matter in several collections at once without becoming a copy, or a child, of any one of them.
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iii
Every view is a projection.
A list, a table, a timeline and a map show different relations among the same kept things. None of them is the thing itself.
The works
The full catalogueProject Winchester
A continuing experiment in an instrument for working with information, where structure is earned through use instead of being declared up front.- No. 02 Reading is the resting state What has been written opens read-only. Writing is something you choose to do, and the page always says which of the two you are doing.
- No. 03 What a paste becomes Blank lines are already a kind of structure. Pasted onto the Slate, they decide where one piece of writing ends and the next begins, and the words themselves are never touched.
- No. 04 Constellations on a permanent canvas A canvas where things stay where they are put. Gather a few into a named constellation, move them as one, take them off the canvas and bring them back exactly where they were.
- No. 05 A month is not its first day If all you know is “April”, a calendar should not quietly turn it into midnight on the first. Each time is kept as finely as it was given, and drawn no finer.
- No. 06 One thing, arriving twice The same calendar event can arrive in an exported file and again through a live connection. It should be drawn once, keep both arrivals, and never be merged with a stranger that merely looks the same.
- No. 07 A word, or the thing it names “Mercury” can stay a word. It can also be made to point at a planet, an element or a god, without the sentence it sits in being rewritten.
- No. 08 Structure that accrues Nothing is declared a hub in advance. A thing becomes central because other things keep pointing at it, and the same picture, a core and its periphery, repeats at every scale.
- No. 09 Opening a summary back up “A trip to the island” compresses a dozen traces into one handle. Can that compression be opened again, back to what it was made from, disagreements included?
How to read the labels
- Built
- Exists in the application’s source today.
- Prototype
- A bounded experiment, kept apart from the rest.
- Direction
- Intended, argued for, not built.
- Open question
- A question the work is still asking.
- Ongoing
- A body of work with parts in each of these states.
Figures are drawn for this site: interactive illustrations of an idea, with invented contents. They behave as the application is documented to behave; they are not the application, and none is a screenshot unless it says so.