Steve Benford

Steve Benford
Mixed Reality Laboratory
School of Computer Science
The University of Nottingham
Jubilee Campus
Wollaton Road
Nottingham NG8 1BB UK
sdb@cs.nott.ac.uk
www.mrl.nott.ac.uk

Performing Musical
Interaction: Lessons from
the Study of Extended
Theatrical Performances

The field of Human–Computer Interaction (HCI)
has long been interested in how people interact with
digital technologies, including—through the closely
related field of Computer-Supported Cooperative
Work (CSCW)—how they collaborate through
and around these technologies. Although initially
focused on office applications and work, the spread
of digital technologies into nearly every aspect of our
everyday lives has led these fields to increasingly
focus on emerging leisure, entertainment, and
cultural applications of digital technologies in areas
such as games, museum installations, interactive
artwork, and, of course, playing and listening
to music. In its turn, the focus of studying and
designing interfaces has also shifted from issues
of usability and productivity to encompass new
goals such as pleasure, creativity, expression, and
aesthetics.

For more than a decade, research at Notting-
ham’s Mixed Reality Laboratory has explored the
use of digital technologies in live performance.
This has involved working with artists to create,
tour, and study a series of theatrical experiences
that mix fictional stories with real settings, virtual
environments with physical sets and props, and
interaction with computers with live encounters
with actors and other participants. Various exam-
ples have shown how digital technologies can be
embedded into extended theatrical performances,
including Can You See Me Now?, a game of chase
in which on-line players logged in over the Internet
were chased through a 3-D virtual model of a city
by actors who, equipped with handheld computers
with GPS receivers, had to run through the actual
city streets to catch them; Uncle Roy all Around
You, in which on-line and “street” players collabo-
rated to navigate a mixed real and virtual cityscape,
encountering various actors, props, and settings on

Computer Music Journal, 34:4, pp. 49–61, Winter 2010
c(cid:2) 2010 Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

the way (Benford et al. 2004); and Fairground: Thrill
Laboratory, which used bio-sensing technologies
and wireless communications to transform the act
of riding a rollercoaster into a public performance.
An overview of several of these performances can
be found in Benford et al. (2009). These experiences
were also the subject of ethnographic studies in
which observation of participants, including the
public, actors, and technical crew, revealed the fine
details of how the interactions were delivered and
experienced.

Reflecting on these experiences and studies led to
the development of various theories to account for
the design and experience of performance interfaces.
This article takes these theories, alongside others
from HCI and CSCW, and considers how they might
be relevant to the design of musical interfaces,
identifying key issues and approaches that might
inform an agenda for future work in this area.
The argument unfolds by following a trail of ever-
widening participation in a musical performance,
from an initial focus on the issues that arise
when just one musician interacts with their digital
instrument, through consideration of ensemble
playing, to different ways in which interfaces
might address an audience, to the embedding of
musical interfaces within an extended performance
structure.

Interacting: The Musician and Their Instrument

The first thing to note is that there are many
traditional forms of interaction with instruments
(plucking, bowing, and strumming strings; pressing
keys; striking drums; and so forth) that are not the
primary focus of this article. Also out of scope are
mainstream interfaces in which desktop displays,
mice, keyboards, and similar devices are used to
interact with musical software tools. Rather, the

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focus of attention is on emerging forms of interface
that might enable particularly interesting and
alternative forms of musical performance.

From enhancing traditional instruments (Bevilac-

qua et al. 2006; Poepel and Overholt 2006), to
creating modified digital instruments (Jord `a et al.
2007; Warming Pedersen and Hornbaek 2009), to
attaching sensors to their own bodies (e.g., Pamela
Z; see Lewis 2007), performers have employed
sensing-based interfaces to lend greater expression
to their playing, allowing interaction with digital
music through gestures and other bodily or facial
movements. Such interaction via sensing-based
interfaces is often indirect in the sense that the
musician is not immediately physically connected
to their instrument, and the sensors may even be
invisible, potentially allowing the kind of unteth-
ered and unencumbered interaction that could, for
example, support a more seamless integration of
music with dance.

However, interacting with these kinds of sensor

systems can be challenging, owing in large part
to their invisible nature, which is often combined
with a relatively high level of unreliability, at least
when compared to the operation of traditional
buttons, key, sliders, and wired devices. Bellotti
and colleagues have articulated these challenges
in terms of five questions for the designers of
sensing-based interaction (Bellotti et al. 2002):

(1) Address: How do I address one (or more) of

many possible devices?

(2) Attention: How do I know the system is

ready and attending to my actions?

(3) Action: How do I effect a meaningful action,
control its extent, and possibly specify a
target or targets for my action?

(4) Alignment: How do I know the system is

doing (has done) the right thing?
(5) Accident: How do I avoid mistakes?

One response to these questions takes the form

of a framework that encourages the designers of
sensor-based interfaces to systematically explore
a space of partially overlapping expected, sensed,
and desired movements and actions, consciously
seeking out misalignments between them (Benford
et al. 2005).

Expected movements are those that the user
might normally be expected to make owing to
a combination of their prior expectations, any
metaphor associated with the interface, its physical
affordances and constraints, and also the ergonomics
of their own bodies. In some cases, such as when
augmenting traditional violins bows with sensors,
the repertoire of expected movements might be rel-
atively predictable (Bevilacqua et al. 2006), whereas
with new instruments, it might be more emergent.
Importantly, this framework also explicitly encour-
ages designers to playfully envisage less expected,
unusual, or even impossible movements of the inter-
face alongside those that a user might normally be
expected to make. How might it be possibly manipu-
lated in bizarre and unlikely as well as normal ways?
Sensed movements are those that can actually
be measured by the interface’s sensing systems.
Here, designers are asked to chart out the range,
degrees of freedom, responsiveness, and accuracy of
each available sensor, and then to consider these in
combination. They are also encouraged to explicitly
identify any movements that might not be sensed
for some reason, such as limited coverage of the
sensors, their responsiveness, interference, and the
impact of other environmental conditions.

Finally, desired actions are those that result in

appropriate, useful, or otherwise engaging func-
tionality. Again, interface designers are asked to
consider what kinds of movements and actions
might be undesirable.

The key point is that these three facets of
interaction with sensors frequently only partially
overlap and so can be considered in terms of the
Venn diagram shown in Figure 1. The authors of
the framework argue that many interface designs
limit their view to the “sweet spot” where expected,
sensed, and desired movements overlap, but that
the other areas of only partial or even non-overlap
are also interesting to designers, both to identify
potential problems with the interface and as a source
of inspiration for new opportunities.

Even a brief exploration of this design space
reveals some interesting issues for the design of mu-
sical interfaces. In this case, the sweet spot—labeled
(1) in Figure 1—for designing the interface to an in-
strument is that point where the musician’s natural

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Figure 1. Expected, sensed,
and desired interactions
for musical performance.

expectations and most fluid physical movements
naturally map onto the capabilities of the sensor
system so as to produce a desirable response from
the instrument. Unsurprisingly, this confluence of
expected, sensed, and desired actions tends to be the
dominant focus for much interface design: It makes
obvious sense as a design strategy to build on the
most common or natural movements, work within
the capabilities of sensors, and produce pleasing re-
sults. However, the designers of musical interaction
might benefit from also exploring other less obvious
parts of the design space.

Movements that would be expected and ideally

desirable, but that cannot be sensed—labeled (2)
in Figure 1—are a potential problem, suggesting
that the range of the instrument is limited by the
constraints of the sensing technology; in other
words, the instrument is not responsive enough.
Designers may therefore wish to explore whether
the range or other capabilities of the sensors can be
extended somehow, or if this is not possible, they
may need to design the interface to communicate
these constraints to the musician, perhaps by
introducing physical constraints or visual markers.
Such strategies can avoid frustration as the musician
tries to trigger sounds that they would naturally
expect to play but in fact cannot, especially in
situations where they are not intimately familiar
with the instrument through many hours of practice.

Conversely, some movements that are expected
and that can be sensed may actually have undesirable
musical consequences—labeled (3) in Figure 1. A
common problem in this space occurs when a
musician first approaches an instrument and engages
with it prior to beginning playing (e.g., donning
wearable sensors at the start of a performance),
which can trigger clumsy, unmusical interactions.
Similar problems can occur when they set the
instrument down again or hand it to another
performer. This is also the territory of glitches
caused by inaccurate or jittery sensor systems that
need to be smoothed out, or, if this is not possible,
the musician’s expectations of fine-grained control
may need to be relaxed in favor of them anticipating
a less predictable or more ambiguous response from
the instrument. In these cases, designers need to
constrain or program the system to ignore some
kinds of expected movement.

Turning to another part of the design space, there

are some movements that are to be expected, and
cannot be sensed, and where it would not be desirable
to trigger musical interaction—labeled (4) in Figure
1. As with a golfer’s swing, the actual moment
of interaction may be preceded by a preparatory
movement and succeeded by a follow-through
movement, both of which are vital to the successful
performance of the overall interaction but do not
directly trigger any sound. Similar movement may

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be essential to allowing the musician to temporarily
disengage from the instrument so as to reposition
or rest before reengaging again (the equivalent of
shifting position on a traditional keyboard or fret
board). More broadly, other gestures that naturally
occur “around the instrument” but that are not
sensed and thus do not trigger music can lend a
degree of physical expression to a performance,
revealing the performer’s emotional engagement as
well as their skill and control over the instrument.
(Think here of the movements of a pianist’s hands
when they are not actually striking a key.) Rosen
(2002) describes how a performer’s gestures at the
piano influence spectators’ appreciation of the skill
and emotion involved in the performance of a
piece of music, whereas Sudnow (1978) describes
how seemingly extraneous gestures become part
of the practice of productions at the keyboard.
Wanderley et al. (2005) conducted an exploratory
study of what they term the “ancillary gestures”
that are made by clarinetists. By analyzing video
recordings alongside data gathered from movement
sensors, they found that ancillary gestures are an
integral aspect of musical performance; that they
tend to be consistent for a given performer across
multiple performances; that performers can be
grouped based upon the parts of the body that they
tend to move (e.g., knees vs. waist); and that there
are two dominant trends of movement in relation to
groupings of notes: regular and consistent rhythmic
movements versus flourishes at the endings of
phrases. In a similar vein, previous HCI research has
discussed the role of performative gestures in playing
electronic instruments, using the term “expressive
latitude” to refer to performance gestures that are
not directly sensed by the instrument (Bowers and
Hellstr ¨om 2000).

Finally, it may be useful to limit interaction
with the instrument to take place in one or more
local “hotspots” on a broader stage of movement,
for example restricting musical interactivity to
certain areas of the stage during a wider dance
production in which dancers may only occasionally
wish to trigger music as a special effect. In short,
there are several compelling reasons why designers
should deliberately build in to a musical interface
opportunities for movements that are to be expected,

but that are not sensed and so do not trigger
music.

A final interesting area of the overall design space

occurs where it may be desirable to deliberately
sense relatively unusual movements—labeled (5) in
Figure 1. Such movements might allow innovative
musicians to experiment with novel or extreme
ways of playing the instrument in which they must
push themselves into unusual positions and actions
to create particular sounds, which could lend an
interesting dynamic to their performance. More
mundanely, it may be useful to have a class of
relatively unusual gestures that trigger meta-level
control of the instrument, changing its tonal and
other parameters, without having to resort to “out of
band” controls such the foot-pedals and additional
switches and buttons that are routinely used with
electric guitars and keyboards. In other words, the
performer might be able to use the same underlying
interaction mechanism to both play and configure
the instrument, although the two sets of gestures
may have to be clearly separable to avoid confusion,
with playing gestures being more expected and
configuration ones less so.

In summary, although we have avoided an
exhaustive presentation of the expected-sensed-
desired framework, this discussion demonstrates
that designing a sensor-based musical instrument
involves both opportunities and challenges that arise
from having only partial overlaps between expected
movements, those that can be sensed, and desired
outcomes. In particular, the framework may help
designers identify several key aspects of performa-
tive musical interaction that need to be considered
including supporting gestures around the instru-
ment that are not sensed; supporting meta-control
of the instrument as well as the direct generation
of music; and considering how the instrument is
picked up, set down, and handed over to others.

Collaborating: The Ensemble
and Their Instruments

So far, we have discussed interaction between a
single musician and a single instrument. However,
for much of the time music is played in ensembles,

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Figure 2. Multichannel
collaboration around an
instrument. Adapted from
Dix (1997).

leading us to the topic of how multiple musicians
interact with multiple instruments. The field of
CSCW has many things to say about the design of
collaborative interfaces that are frequently summa-
rized under a “space–time” classification, which,
as a high-level generalization, divides collabora-
tive interfaces into those supporting face-to-face
interactions (at the same time and in the same
place); remote interactions (same time but different
places); continuous tasks (different times but the
same place); and communication and coordination
(different times and different places; Johansen 1988).
Although all of these broad modes of collaboration
are relevant to music-making in general, especially
when we extend our view to collaborative compo-
sition and various forms of music distribution and
sharing, we restrict our discussion here to those
aspects that affect live performance, i.e., that take
place at the “same time.”

The starting point for our exploration of live col-
laboration considers the situation in which several
musicians share a common musical instrument.
Although this can happen with traditional instru-
ments (e.g., two pianists playing a duet on the same
piano), it is a relatively rare occurrence. CSCW,
however, has considered various technologies to
support collaboration around and through a shared
interface including tabletop displays and other tangi-
ble interfaces in which everyday objects can be used
to interact with shared surfaces (Ishii and Ullmer
1997), and also wall displays and “roomware” (Stre-
itz et al. 1999), many of which fall under the general
heading of Single-Display Groupware (Stewart,
Bederson, and Druin 1999). Such technologies are
now finding their way into musical instruments, for
example the reacTable, a modular synthesizer with
a multi-touch tangible interface that was used by
the musician Bj ¨ork during her 2007 world tour (Jord `a
et al. 2007). Blaine and Fels (2003) have conducted
an extensive review of how such co-located displays,
especially when deployed in public environments,
can support social music-making by novice rather
than virtuoso musicians. Through an analysis of
eleven examples, they identify key factors in the
design of such instruments including their degree
of focus towards the audience or performers, the
location of the interface, the media involved, the

level of scale in terms of the number of players, the
nature of individual interfaces, the extent to which
these enable physical interactions, whether players
have identical interfaces, the musical range of the
instrument, the extent to which interactions are
directed, the learning curve for the instrument, and,
following on from this, the pathway to more expert
performance (Blaine and Fels 2003).

These new forms of musical instruments in which

multiple musicians share a single display raise
significant interaction–design challenges, not least
of which is the multi-channel nature of collaboration
which, as Dix (1997) articulates, involves both
direct coordination between musicians who can
see one another and communicate, and feedthrough
in which each musician’s interactions with the
interface are indirectly passed onto the other
via the interface itself. Both of these channels—
direct coordination and feedthrough—must be
considered in the design of a musical instrument,
as shown in Figure 2. On the one hand, how
do its shape, size, layout, and placement in the
local performance setting afford direct coordination
between musicians? Can they easily see one another,
share talk and gestures, and witness each other’s
interactions? On the other, how does the instrument
itself provide feedthrough that reflects the players’
actions upon it? Are these actions highlighted in any
ways and identified with the different musicians?
A situation perhaps more familiar to many
musicians is one in which each person brings their
own instrument. With electronic instruments, these
can then also be networked together using protocols
such as MIDI to create further possible channels of
communication. Figure 3 shows a typical situation
in which two musicians have networked their
instruments such that feedthrough passes through

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Figure 3. Feedthrough and
direct coordination around
networked instruments.

Feedthrough may be especially useful for deal-
ing with the effects of network latency, which are
especially challenging for distributed musical per-
formance (Zimmermann et al. 2008). Studies of both
distributed drawing tools and simple networked
3-D games have shown that enhancing users’ visual
embodiments with indications of the current level
of network delay can improve their performance
of collaborative tasks and have led to proposals for
a variety of “decorators” that can be attached to
embodiments (Stach et al. 2007).

Beyond remote interactions, there is also the
need to support orchestration work—the process of
shaping and guiding a performance, often invisibly
from behind the scenes. Observational studies of a
sequence of interactive theatrical performances have
repeatedly stressed the importance of orchestration
work and the need to support this with dedicated
interfaces to support monitoring, intervening, and
communicating (e.g., Koleva et al. 2001; Crabtree
et al. 2004). Of course, musical performance also
routinely involves orchestration work, carried out
by technical groups including a sound crew, lighting
crew, and others; for large performances, each crew
can involve many individuals who are themselves
distributed across multiple locations. These individ-
uals also require channels of communication if they
are to coordinate with the musicians and with each
other, including channels of direct coordination as
well as feedthrough channels through which they
can remotely monitor (and even intervene in) the
state of individual instruments.

Drawing these various threads together, we
can see that ensemble playing can involve quite
complex ecologies of instruments, musicians,
and technicians. Figure 4 shows a general case
that combines different forms of collaborative
interfaces (single-display groupware and networked
individual instruments) in both face-to-face and
remote modes. The key lesson from CSCW is that
designers must consider the use of both channels
of direct coordination and feedthrough in each
case, whether they are needed, and if so, how
they can be best supported. Moreover, while direct
coordination is already quite well supported through
side channels such as walkie-talkies, monitor
systems, or simply the careful arrangement of the

each instrument and over the network to the
other. Although this is a common performance
situation, it is notable that the current generation
of commercial electronic instruments does not
generally support feedthrough: There is generally
a lack of representation on their displays of other
instruments, musicians that are on the network, and
the actions they are performing (e.g., of the notes
they are playing or the settings of their instruments).
One immediate lesson from CSCW then is that
future instruments might incorporate this kind of
feedthrough to better support collaboration.

This argument may not at first be fully convincing

in purely face-to-face situations; after all, groups
of musicians appear to be able to use electronic
instruments reasonably well with just channels of
direct coordination (e.g., using glances, nods, and
talk to coordinate their actions across a shared stage).
The introduction of remote interactions, however,
changes the situation greatly. Now we must consider
a fellow musician who is not physically co-present,
and so there is no immediate channel of direct
coordination available. A common solution is to use
separate video and audio links to restore this channel
so that the musicians can now see one another over
a remote link. However, a host of CSCW systems
and related studies have highlighted the benefits of
also providing a feedthrough channel by embodying
users within the digital space of the interface itself.
For example, shared drawing tools have effectively
enhanced remote collaboration through telepointers
that convey the presence, identity, and activity of
remote others, and virtual worlds routinely use
avatars to embody their users within a 3-D digital
space (Benford et al. 1995).

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Figure 4. An example
ecology of distributed
instruments, musicians,
and technicians.

performance space, feedthrough channels in which
information about the use of instruments flows
through the network connections between them
alongside MIDI performance data to be displayed
on the interfaces of instruments, appears to be
far less well supported—probably much less so
than in many other non-musical collaborative
applications where it has proved to be a very
successful.

Spectating: Addressing the Audience

A performance also involves an audience, and so
we now turn to the question of how this audience
experiences the musicians’ interactions with their
instruments and with each other, an issue referred
to as “transparency” by Blaine and Fels (2003).
As computers have increasingly spread out of
the workplace into public settings such as cafes,
bars, and city streets, so our interactions with
them have taken on many aspects of being a
public performance. Some of these performances
are consciously part of new forms of theatrical
event, staged by artists who are drawn to the
potential of mobile, wearable, embedded, and other
increasingly ubiquitous interfaces to interweave
digital media with the everyday world around
us, which then become a rich backdrop for new
theatrical experiences. Others are more implicit
everyday performances, such as when mobile phone

calls are consciously “performed” with a local
audience in mind. In either case, the field of HCI has
become increasingly concerned with how interface
designers can address the performative nature of
public interaction or, put another way, how they
can create interfaces that reflect the needs of nearby
spectators (deliberate or accidental) as well as of
their direct users.

A recent taxonomy of spectator interfaces clas-
sified various public and performance interfaces,
including some musical examples, in terms of the
extent to which they hide, reveal, or even amplify
a performer’s manipulations of the interface com-
pared with the extent to which they hide, reveal, or
amplify the effects of these manipulations (Reeves
et al. 2005). Manipulations here include both direct
inputs to the interface that trigger interactions,
but also the kinds of expressive gestures around
the interface that were previously discussed. In
turn, effects include the direct outputs that are
displayed by the interface, but also the visible ef-
fects of these in the performer. A classification of
many different interfaces, from everyday mobile
phones, laptops, kiosks, and projection interfaces,
to modified instruments and installations revealed
that different styles of public interface can adopt
radically different strategies with regard to hiding or
revealing combinations of manipulations and effects
to nearby spectators. However, these can be grouped
under four high-level design strategies for spectator
interfaces, as depicted in Figure 5.

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Figure 5. Strategies for
designing spectator
interfaces.

of official spectators (e.g., who hold tickets) from
others, traditionally accomplished through the
more permanent barriers of the auditorium walls.
Recent writing in HCI has considered how the
boundaries or “frame” of an interactive performance
become increasingly blurred in public settings
and makes a distinction between the audience
who are within the performance frame (i.e., who
are aware that a performance is taking place and
are able to interpret the action appropriately)
versus possibly unwitting bystanders who may
be passing through the performance space and
may be less able to interpret what is taking place
(Benford et al. 2006). New modes of performance
such as “Flash Mobs,” which might potentially
include performing music, may involve apparently
spontaneous outbreaks of performance and thus
deliberately blur the performance frame, introducing
a degree of ambiguity as to who are the performers,
audience, and bystanders.

Our third strategy, magical, involves revealing

effects but hiding away the manipulations that
caused them. This strategy is clearly relevant to
the public performance of illusions as part of stage
magic, but more generally, enables a performer to
hide clumsy interactions that might detract from
the overall aesthetic of the performance. A recent
study of a computer-vision system being used to
support a stage magic trick showed how magical
interfaces may even deliberately exploit the multi-
channel nature of interaction around and through
shared interfaces as discussed earlier, by deliberately
misdirecting the spectator’s attention from direct to
feedthrough channels or vice versa, so as to reveal
manipulations that support the fiction of the illusion
while hiding others that are concerned with the way
in which it is actually achieved (Marshall, Benford,
and Pridmore 2010). In terms of musical instru-
ments, the magical strategy might be applied to in-
teractions that are concerned with the “meta-level”
control of instrument settings, rather than the im-
mediate production of musical sound, often accom-
plished by the use of foot-switches, pedals, and simi-
lar devices that are not always immediately visible to
the audience. Another example lies in the design of
“augmented instruments,” traditional instruments
that are extended with (often invisible) sensors so

The horizontal axis shows whether the manip-
ulations of a given interface are hidden, partially
revealed, revealed, or even amplified in some way
(e.g., by making the controls particularly large or
otherwise drawing attention to them). The vertical
axis does the same for effects. One popular design
strategy, expressive, aims to make both manipula-
tions and effects as visible as possible, emphasizing
the connection between the two and hence the vir-
tuosity of the performer in being able to control and
manipulate the interface. This is an approach that
is well suited to the design of musical instruments,
and the reviewed examples included Toshio Iwai’s
Piano that used dynamic lighting to augment his
interactions with the keyboard (Wilson 2002), and
also Pamela Z’s use of body-worn sensors to enable
her to use large, effectively amplified, gestures to
produce music (Lewis 2007).

The opposing strategy is secretive, in which
both manipulations and effects are hidden from
spectators, in the extreme case by hiding the
interface behind barriers such as curtains, or in
kiosks that are deployed in public places but that
wish to maintain a sense of privacy for the user (e.g.,
passport photo kiosks). A related facet of privacy
considered by subsequent work is the separation

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that apparently conventional musical interactions
produce surprising additional effects. In practice,
the design of musical instruments might benefit
from applying both the expressive and magical
strategies in tandem, revealing those manipulations
that convey the performer’s skill in playing (making
gestures, plucking strings, and so forth) while hiding
other more mundane interactions that might control
less-interesting parameters of the instrument.

Finally, the strategy of creating suspenseful spec-

tator interfaces involves revealing manipulations
to the spectator while hiding their effects. At first
glance, this may be the most counterintuitive strat-
egy of the four: Why would an audience not be able
to see or hear the output of an instrument or other
display? However, it may be a useful strategy in
some situations, especially where audience mem-
bers are waiting in line to experience an installation
and can benefit from seeing in advance how others
use it (so that they know what to do when their
turn comes), but without seeing the “payoff” until
it is actually their turn. An example discussed in
Reeves, Fraser, and Benford (2005) involves a mu-
seum augmented-reality display in the form of a
telescope that overlaid video images on a collection
of bottles displayed on a pedestal. Bystanders could
see from the actions of others that they had to ap-
proach the telescope, look through the eyepiece, and
rotate the display, but they only saw the payoff (the
video augmentations) when they took their turn.
Musically, this strategy is perhaps best suited to the
design of public sound installations in exploratoria,
museums, galleries, and similar settings.

In summary, interfaces, including musical
instruments, must be designed with spectators in
mind, and previous work in HCI has identified a
range of complementary strategies for approaching
this task in terms of hiding, partially revealing,
revealing, or even amplifying different combina-
tions of manipulations and effects, and it has also
discussed related issues concerning the framing of
performances in public spaces.

Trajectories Through an Entire Performance

In this final section, we further expand our perspec-
tive to consider the manner in which interaction

with a digital instrument can be successfully
embedded into the wider context of a musical per-
formance. HCI is increasingly turning its attention
to the question of how designers can understand
and create entire user experiences (Law et al. 2008).
One response has been to draw on expertise from
performance studies to develop a theoretical account
of the nature of “mixture reality performance,” i.e.,
of the emerging genre of performances that combine
physical and virtual spaces in various ways to create
mixed-reality stages and that also combine elements
of live performance with interaction with digital
technologies (Benford et al. 2009). Mixed-reality
performances reported in the literature appear to be
extremely complex, combining multiple physical
and virtual spaces, multiple timescales, different
performative roles, and diverse interfaces into
complex hybrid structures. However, it has been
proposed that they can be understood using the
overarching concept of “trajectories.” Inspired by
recent writing about the nature and history of
lines and of the importance of continuous rather
than discrete structures in many disciplines (Ingold
2007), a trajectory is intended to capture the idea of
artists and performers trying to construct coherent
and more or less continuous journeys—threads of
experience—through an extended performance that
are then negotiated with participants, each of whom
who may follow their own path, and where these
paths then meet and separate as part of a complex
social tapestry. Specifically, it has been proposed
that a mixed-reality performance can be described
in terms of three fundamental kinds of trajectory:
canonical trajectories, participant trajectories, and
historic trajectories.

Artists create canonical trajectories that express
one or more ideal journeys through a performance.
In a sense, canonical trajectories capture the design
of the underlying narrative that guides the perfor-
mance, although this is broadened to include all
aspects of the experience from ticketing and admis-
sions, framing and engaging with interfaces (as dis-
cussed earlier), to the structure of the digital media,
to the ending of the performance. Multiple canonical
trajectories can be created for a given performance
expressing the routes taken by different roles or the
choices that any one participant may make.

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Participants in the performance then follow
participant trajectories that inscribe their actual
journeys through the work. Each participant creates
an individual participant trajectory that describes a
specific experience, and a participant will tend to
create a new participant trajectory each time that
person revisits the work. Interactivity, in which
participants make their own choices about how
to act, drives their trajectories to diverge from un-
derlying canonical trajectories, while the opposing
force of orchestration as discussed earlier tends to
steer participant trajectories back toward canonical
trajectories. An unfolding performance therefore
involves a continual and productive tension be-
tween interactive and orchestration, leading to
continuously diverging and re-converging canonical
and participant trajectories. In a similar way, the
convergence and divergence of multiple partici-
pant trajectories expresses the social dynamics of
a particular performance, reflecting moments at
which different participants are brought together to
share aspects of an experience, as well as important
moments of contemplative isolation in which they
are deliberately separated.

Historic trajectories provide the ability to record
and replay a performance by constructing particular
historic views of what took place. This involves
selecting and recombining segments from among
different participant trajectories that have been
recorded by the underlying system. In the simplest
case, this may involve replaying a given participant
trajectory to recreate a particular individual’s
experience as it took place. However, it might also
include mixing elements from multiple participants’
trajectories to create new fictional views of history,
including mixing elements of different recorded
journeys by a single participant to create an idealized
view of their experience (e.g., showing one’s overall
history in a game by just selecting the best attempt
at each level). Finally, historic trajectories might
then be reused as canonical trajectories in future
experiences so that previous participants can act as
guides for future participants.

Although the concept of trajectories is intended
to capture a sense of a continuous journey through a
performance, this ideal of continuity is in fact often
threatened by various transitions and significant

moments in the structure of a performance that
require careful design to maintain an overall sense
of coherence. Key transitional moments in mixed-
reality performances may include the following:
beginnings (carefully designing how the performance
is framed and how participants are admitted,
briefed, and otherwise engaged); endings (how the
performance ends, often including the use of various
physical and digital mementos that are given or sent
to participants after the event to provoke reflection
and discussion); role and interface transitions
(supporting people changing roles, for example,
moving from bystanding to spectating or from
spectating to performing, and also how they pick
up, put down, or hand over interfaces, which can
be challenging where invisible sensing technologies
are involved as discussed earlier); seams (coping
with the practical constraints of underlying digital
technologies, especially the limited coverage and
accuracy of wireless communications and invisible
sensing systems, which may threaten the smooth
running of the performance); access to physical
resources (unlike their purely digital counterparts,
physical resources such as props, physical interfaces,
and also real spaces, cannot readily be replicated;
as a result, designers must pay careful attention to
how access to these is scheduled and managed so
as to avoid potentially disruptive contention, for
example, when several participants arrive at a key
physical location at the same time and have to wait,
which may detract from their engagement with
their individual experience); and finally episodes
(some performances, for example slow games
that are delivered over long time periods using
mobile phones, involve highly episodic modes of
engagement in which frequently disengagement
and subsequent reengagement need to be carefully
managed).

This emerging theory of trajectories captures
many of the concepts that we discussed in earlier
sections and tries to wrap them into an overar-
ching conceptual framework through which we
might analyze and ultimately design new kinds of
performances that make extensive use of digital
technologies. In particular, trajectories express the
idea that an overall performance can combine mul-
tiple interfaces and roles (e.g., performer, audience,

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and bystander), with people moving between them
at different times. The idea of transitions relates
to picking up and putting down musical interfaces,
which in turn relates to Bellotti’s five questions
discussed earlier. The distinction between canonical
and participant trajectories reflects the degree of
direction, orchestration, or alternatively improvi-
sation that might be possible. Up to now, these
concepts have been driven from studies of theatrical
rather than musical performances, but this is not
to say that there are not clear resonances with the
latter. When we consider the potential application
of trajectories to musical performance, we must be
careful about how to describe various performance
roles. In the following, we consider that a perfor-
mance is first “designed” by some combination of
composers, directors, set designers, stage managers,
and others who plan how it is intended to unfold and
who arrange the combination of digital and physical
materials (sounds, scores, interfaces, auditoria, and
so forth) that constitute its canonical trajectories.
These shape the actions of performers, who may
often be trained musicians giving a deliberate perfor-
mance, but might also potentially be more everyday
users of musical interfaces that are displayed in
public settings, for example in sound installations
in galleries and exploratoria. These people interact
with the various technologies involved to create
their own participant trajectories, often in the pres-
ence of watching spectators, who might comprise
both audience and bystanders, as discussed previ-
ously. Musical performance is often recorded of
course, which is where historic trajectories come in
to play, ranging from a simple recording of a live per-
formance to more complex overdubbing and mixing
that can be described in terms of the synthesis of a
historic trajectory from many recorded participant
trajectories. These recordings can then be sampled
and replayed in future live performances, which may
in turn be recorded, and so forth (a popular trend in
modern music).

In other words, the concepts of canonical, partici-
pant, and historic trajectories can be seen in musical
as well as theatrical performances, and some of the
discussions of how they may converge and diverge
may therefore be of value when designing musical
experiences—so too should be an analysis of the

various forms of transitions that need to be consid-
ered during a performance, including the challenges
of handing over instruments and designing for the
constraints of sensing interfaces that we discussed
earlier, as well as the importance of framing. It is
interesting to speculate whether other important
transitions that are seen in theatrical experiences
such as dealing with episodes of engagement and
access to physical resources also have to be consid-
ered in designing new forms of extended musical
performance.

Conclusion

There is an emerging body of work within the fields
of Human Computer Interaction and Computer-
Supported Cooperative Work on mixed-reality
performance, i.e., the use of computers to support
new forms of theatre that extend interaction out
to city streets and other public settings. Studies of
these works have informed a growing understanding
of what it means to perform with a computer
interface, either as part of a deliberately staged
theatrical event or as part of the performance of
everyday interactions. This article has attempted to
distil some of the key concepts from this body of
work and consider how they might potentially apply
to the design of musical performances.

Beginning with how a musician interacts with an

instrument, especially one that employs invisible
sensing technologies, we have argued that a sys-
tematic comparison of expected, sensed, and desired
actions can generate new design possibilities in
areas such as allowing for expressive gesture around
an instrument, building in opportunities for rest
and repositioning, enabling unusual performance
effects, supporting meta-control of an instrument’s
settings, and recognizing the potential difficulties of
gracefully picking the instrument up and setting it
down again.

Widening our perspective to consider an

ensemble of musicians playing multiple—possibly
networked—instruments, we have argued for
the importance of recognizing the complex
multi-channeled nature of interaction, requiring
designers to consider different opportunities for

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direct coordination but also for Dix’s concept of
feedthrough (1997). Rich and effective feedthrough
is less well supported with the current generation of
electronic instruments, and there may be potential
in exploring richer forms of embodiment here.

Next, we introduced the audience, considering
how interaction with an instrument might be de-
signed with spectators in mind. By comparing the
ways in which instruments might hide, reveal, or
even amplify different combinations of manipula-
tions of an interfaces with the resulting effects of
these manipulations, we revealed four broad design
strategies: expressive, secretive, magical, and sus-
penseful. Although the “expressive” strategy seems
well suited to designing digital instruments (and
can already be seen in many), it is worth considering
whether the other strategies might also be relevant
too.

Finally, we considered the embedding of all
of these aspects of musical interaction into an
overarching structure of performance. Here, we
drew on an emerging theory of trajectories through
mixed-reality performance to consider how the rela-
tionships between pre-composed, live, and recorded
actions could be expressed through so-called canon-
ical, participant, and historic trajectories, and also
how such trajectories must negotiate various key
transitional moments if an overall sense of coher-
ence is to be maintained.

This article has focused on how the design of
digital instruments might incorporate concepts
from HCI. Although this is ideally a useful and
thought-provoking exercise, it is of course also the
case that HCI will have much to learn from the
design of digital musical instruments. An important
future step is to try to apply these ideas in practice,
which will no doubt challenge these concepts and
ultimately lead to their refinement and or extension
in important ways.

Acknowledgments

I gratefully acknowledge the support of the Engi-
neering and Physical Sciences Research Council
(EPSRC) through their funding of the Challenge of
Widespread Ubiquitous Computing project (grant

EP/F03038X/1) and of the Research Councils UK
(RCUK) through their funding of the Horizon Digital
Economy Hub (grant EP/G065802/1). I would like
to thank Michael Gurevich for his insightful com-
ments and suggestions for revising the initial draft.

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