Tubographical Transactions No. 5: the Russell Square effect

I came to know and love Russell Square station while exploring the Tube for my London Underground Photo Exhibition. Russell Square is a small and relatively peaceful non-interchange station dwarfed by the gargantuan King’s Cross interchange right next to it on the Piccadilly Line. It is probably most vividly and painfully remembered as one of the stations that saw action in July 2005 during the London attacks. Beautiful turquoise tiles found nowhere else on the Tube adorn its walls and passageways, beautifully complemented with graphite- and ivory-coloured tiles, that from 1906 to this day stand as a monument to the great London Underground architect Leslie Green.

Emergency services surround the entrance to Russell Square station on 7 July 2005. Photo: Francis Tyers

Journey to the Centre of the Earth (Russell Square station) by Yangchen Lin, at the London Underground Photo Exhibition

The tiles on the platforms look even more mesmerizing because the horizontal edges appear to have a subtle and graceful convergence towards each epicentre of the symmetric pattern of graphite tiles:

The Russell Square effect. It looks even better in real life; take a look when you pass the station.

If you observe the actual tiles closely or use a ruler, they are in fact straight and parallel. This is a well known optical illusion where staggered rectangles make parallel lines appear bent:

Linked from www.illusionspoint.com

Linked from www.qedcat.com

It only works, however, if the pattern is repeated along the to-be-bent lines and there is no other pattern with an axis of symmetry perpendicular to those lines to ‘pull’ the lines back into parallel. In the case of Covent Garden and Caledonian Road stations, for example, the lack of horizontal repetition, the interference from vertical tiling patterns and the low colour contrast have eliminated the illusion:

Covent Garden station platform.

Very few stations harbour the illusion; the other one I know about is Gloucester Road (see this article) but the one at Russell Square is much more compelling because of the more striking contrast of ivory and graphite embellished by turquoise.

Was this by design and, if so, why is it not more widespread in Leslie Green stations with surviving original tilework?

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Tubographical Transactions No. 1 (exhibition music)
Tubographical Transactions No. 2 (exhibition music)
Tubographical Transactions No. 3 (photobook)
Tubographical Transactions No. 4 (spiral staircases)

Tubographical Transactions No. 4: the ‘Emergency Helix’

The helix is a geometric structure of enduring mathematical beauty, having been the object of inquiry of great natural philosophers like Archimedes and having been used by artists no less than Nature herself in deoxyribonucleic acid, collagen and other complex biological molecules.

Formula of a helix
x = r cos ty = r sin tz = ct

Such a venerable institution as the London Underground would therefore not be complete without helices. Thankfully, helices occur regularly in the London Underground in the form of emergency staircases, which are of critical importance in deep-level stations that are otherwise accessible only by elevator. While exploring the Tube for my London Underground Photo Exhibition, I noticed that some of the staircases were right-handed helices and others left-handed. The handedness of a helix can be determined by examining it along its axis. If the helix moves away from you in a clockwise rotation, it is right-handed; if it comes towards you, it is left-handed. Just like a pair of hands, the two cannot be superimposed on each other.

Right-handed helix at Oval station. Photo: Yangchen Lin

Left-handed helix at Queensway station. Photo: Yangchen Lin

Here is a provisional alphabetical compilation of relevant stations, including disused stations, and the handednesses of their emergency helices.

Aldwych – L
Belsize Park – R
Borough – R
Brompton Road – R
Caledonian Road – R
Camden Town – L
Chalk Farm – L
Covent Garden – L
Down Street – L
Earl’s Court – L
Elephant and Castle – R
Embankment – L
Gloucester Road – R
Goodge Street – L
Hampstead – R
Holland Park – L
Holloway Road – R
Kennington – L
Kentish Town – R
Lambeth North – R
Lancaster Gate – L
London Bridge – R
Old Street – L
Oval – R
Queensway – L
Russell Square – R
Tottenham Court Road – R
Tufnell Park – R

R: 15
L: 13

Particle Accelerator at Tottenham Court Road station. Photo: Yangchen Lin

My knowledge is incomplete; I welcome corrections and additions. It seems for now though that right- and left-handed emergency staircases in the Tube occur in roughly equal numbers. The observations do not suggest bias towards either hand. There does not appear to be any pattern related to geography or line identity. Factors that may have influenced handedness include architectural or engineering considerations relating to the construction of passagways adjoining the top and bottom ends of the staircase, but there is no a priori reason to suppose that local handednesses in these factors would not average out over a large number of stations.

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London Underground Photo Exhibition

Tubographical Transactions No. 1 (exhibition music)
Tubographical Transactions No. 2 (exhibition music)
Tubographical Transactions No. 3 (photobook)
Tubographical Transactions No. 5 (optical illusion)

Tubographical Transactions No. 3: the PhotoBook

This special edition of Tubographical Transactions gives a glimpse of the work for which I originally conceived the expression ‘Tubographical Transactions’: the photobook, sponsored by Bob Books, that will shortly be released in conjunction with the opening of my London Underground Photo Exhibition in celebration of 150 years of the Tube, with Loxley Colour as main exhibition sponsor.

As explained in the first of the Tubographical Transactions blog posts, ‘Tubographical Transactions’ is ‘etymologically inspired by the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, the great institution of natural philosophy that saw some of the most fundamental and fascinating scientific discoveries of the 17th century’. ‘Tubographical Transactions are discourses pertaining to my attempts at an inter- and multi-disciplinary approach to the photographic exploration of the London Underground.’

Measuring 8 by 8 inches and spanning 98 pages, this volume presents the complete collection of exhibited images on double spreads with text annotations, plus a few specially selected images not shown on the gallery walls, into dimensions compact enough for ease of handling at an intimate coffee table yet spacious enough to allow the pictures to breathe comfortably. The book features lay-flat binding of premium photographic paper on which the images have been developed using traditional photographic printing processes.

The cover photo emulates a monochrome negative, paying tribute to two of the older traditions of photographic expression and methodology. The text on the cover and within the book is typeset in the exquisitely beautiful Caslon typeface; my choice of Caslon over the London Underground’s legendary Johnston typeface is thrashed out here.

The book can be viewed at the exhibition and will shortly be available for online ordering and worldwide shipping. Large format hanging prints, however, remain unmatched in their ability to provide a true immersive experience. I invite you to visit the London Underground Photo Exhibition.

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Poster Art 150 exhibition at the London Transport Museum
Tubographical Transactions No. 1
Tubographical Transactions No. 2

Tubographical Transactions No. 2: Mahler’s Symphony No. 6 at the London Underground Photo Exhibition

In the previous edition of Tubographical Transactions I made the initial announcement that the theme music for my upcoming London Underground Photo Exhibition would be Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 6. It is one of the least appreciated of Mahler’s symphonies, owing partly to the dark and diabolical passages that have earned it the nickname ‘Tragic’. It can be misleading, however, to assign a single adjective to such a long and complex composition as a Mahler symphony; the Sixth is by no means reminiscent of the visceral tragedy of Tchaikovsky’s Pathétique or Richard Strauss’ Metamorphosen.

The beginning of Mahler’s Symphony No. 6. Linked from www.mfiles.co.uk

At the very outset of the symphony and throughout the first movement, the forceful pronunciation of repeated percussive notes on the violoncellos and double basses already evoke the rhythmic clatter of the underground steam locomotives that ignited the transport revolution in London and the rest of the world. During the quieter moments of respite, cowbells bring to mind the pastoral atmosphere of sky-lighted District Line platforms with pigeons wandering about and foraging somewhat like cows.

The Scherzo highlights the tumultuous years between the Tube’s glorious origins and its 21st-century renaissance, when it was becoming increasingly dishevelled for lack of funding. In contrast, the Andante views decades past in an alternative, nostalgic light.

In the monumental fourth and final movement, polyphonic textures transcend existing boundaries, with layer upon interwoven layer of musical lines creating the dramatic tension of a big and chaotic interchange like King’s Cross St. Pancras, interspersed with subdued and profoundly reflective periods as the train passes through quieter stations, only for the peace to be shattered again by Piccadilly Circus. The music never fails to convey the excitement of traversing the capital city of the world.

Novel percussion instruments and novel treatments of standard orchestral instruments are manifested in ways that embellish the storyline of the music and reflect the riot of colours and designs of ceramic tiles lining station platforms and passageways, adding spicy garnish to the dreary commute. The powerful, electrifying and emotionally charged tone of Austro-German brass, especially the unique instruments of the Vienna Philharmonic, not only reflect the chemical composition of the serpentine tunnels of heavy cast iron; they also glorify the innate, primeval beauty of the radial symmetry of those tunnels. (Note though that the British pioneered tunnel boring technology.)

The great harmonic tension that is the hallmark of the late 19th-century Austro-German symphony, especially the symphonies of Mahler, not only echoes the tension between man and machine but also the tension amongst the disparate architectural styles spanning 150 years that are now mixed together in a kaleidoscopic self-organized mosaic, sometimes consonant, sometimes jarring.

The Sixth is a monster of a symphony to perform, demanding the highest mastery of individual technical skill and orchestral coordination to go beyond the mere rendering of musical notes and produce living, breathing music. Every performance of Mahler’s Symphony No. 6 is a monumental undertaking and a celebration of man’s fraternity and creativity. The immense breadth and depth of the Sixth has earned it an enduring place in the deepest realms of my mind.

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Tubographical Transactions No. 1
Tubographical Transactions No. 3

Tubographical Transactions No. 1: Theme Music for the London Underground Photo Exhibition

As this is the first post in my new Tubographical Transactions series, a quick introduction is in order before I let you listen to the music, pun intended. I define ‘tubography’ simply as a noun meaning Tube photography, specifically the photography of the London Underground (alternative definitions of ‘tubography’ exist). Tubographical Transactions is etymologically inspired by the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, the great institution of natural philosophy that saw some of the most fundamental and fascinating scientific discoveries of the 17th century. Tubographical Transactions are discourses pertaining to my attempts at an inter- and multi-disciplinary approach to the photographic exploration of the London Underground.

Big Brother. Photo: Yangchen Lin

Theme Music for the London Underground Photo Exhibition

Music has been in my life for considerably longer than photography. As I went through successive stages of education I developed a particular affinity for the Austro-German symphonic tradition, starting principally with Beethoven (although the symphony had considerably earlier origins) and progressing through increasingly complex tonalities from Brahms to Bruckner and, finally, to Mahler. A tendency began to develop during my Brucknerization phase, of associating particular musical compositions with significant experiences in my life. For example, an expedition to a great mountain called Gunung Tahan, where I experienced an epiphany at a point gazing across a bottomless gorge filled with swirling mist and the muffled roar of distant waterfalls, was beautifully captured for posterity in Mahler’s Symphony No. 2. When I finally stood at the foot of K2, the world’s second highest mountain, surrounded by 8000-metre Himalayan giants of snow, ice and rock, only Mahler’s Symphony No. 8 could handle the immensity of it all.

Gustav Mahler, 1907. Photo: Moritz Nähr

It is now 2013, and I have just completed the most recent significant project in my life, that of exploring and photographing the London Underground in celebration of its 150th year. In the course of the artistic conception of my London Underground Photo Exhibition that would soon be showcasing this work, the question soon arose as to what form its aural manifestation should assume. The London Underground was a revolutionary idea and engineering marvel that radically changed not only London but also many of the great cities of the world; I recommend Christian Wolmar’s shining testimony to it in his book The Subterranean Railway. My Tube photography therefore needs music that can match the Tube in monumentality and in the diversity of texture and colour.

But it wasn’t easy to decide on the music because the Tube, being a network of slender tubes many of which are buried out of sight in the ground, does not immediately come across as a single entity of magnificence and grandeur. While going through the photos my mind experienced the beauty of the Tube and its people manifested in all manners of musical periods and styles including J. S. Bach, Mozart, Sibelius, Brahms, Richard Strauss, Mahler, Messiaen, Wagner and Verdi. So I would admit that the final decision was more analytically deliberate than spontaneously evolved, but I believe it goes well with the Tube. It is the same music that accompanied me several years ago to the summit of Tambora volcano, whose cataclysmic eruption in 1815 was 10 times the power of Krakatoa and reduced the mountain from a height of 4000m to 2850m and a caldera seven kilometers in diameter that is still smouldering today. There is nothing apocalyptic about the Tube—it shares the grand scale but not the gory mechanistic details which I will discuss in the next edition of Tubographical Transactions.

Meanwhile, why not listen to this and let it speak to you?

Gustav Mahler · Symphony No. 6
Leonard Bernstein · Wiener Philharmoniker

(beginning of the fourth movement)

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Typography of the London Underground Photo Exhibition
Tubographical Transactions No. 2
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The Typography of the London Underground Photo Exhibition

One of the fundamental concepts in typography is that no single typeface is perfect for all applications. Nevertheless, one could settle on a favourite typeface that identifies with one’s personality and serves most of one’s needs, as long as ‘favourite’ is not taken as a synonym for ‘universal’. The medallion I designed for my upcoming London Underground Photo Exhibition offers a glimpse of my favourite serif and sans-serif typefaces; admittedly their true practical and aesthetic utility can only be revealed in more substantial volumes of text as will be found in the gallery image captions and the photo book that will be released in conjunction with the exhibition.

Photo: Matthew Coleman. Note that this plaque is not in Caslon typeface.

The rim of my medallion features one of the Caslon family of typefaces, the original of which was created by William Caslon in 1722. Caslon is one of the most venerable British typefaces, and appears on the United States of America inscription on Air Force One. It combines ease of reading in large blocks of prose with exquisite classical beauty in both upright and italic forms. Of course, it also comes with the true small capitals, oldstyle numerals and ligatures that are vital to the appreciation of flowing text. William Berkson writes about the different incarnations of Caslon that have appeared on both sides of the Atlantic over the centuries, describing the numerous subtle features that make Caslon so appealing in many respects.

Typographer Justin Howes made the most accurate and comprehensive digital recreation of the original Caslon before passing away in 2005 at the tender age of 41. Howes’ Caslon can be admired in this document. It was here that I discovered a typeface that captivated my sense of sight like no other. It immediately displaced Computer Modern as my favourite serif typeface but, true to the aforementioned typographic philosophy, Computer Modern remains singularly unmatched for typesetting articles with mathematical expressions in LaTeX.

Edward Johnston (1872–1944). Linked from London Reconnections.

In his rare book Johnston’s Underground Type, Howes wrote that Edward Johnston’s famous typeface for the London Underground ’owes so much to Caslon that in some respects it is virtually a monoline sans-serif version of the original face’. This is echoed on page 122 in Mark Ovenden’s beautiful book London Underground by Design. But Professor James Mosley at the Department of Typography and Graphic Communication at the University of Reading does not agree totally with this assessment; Mosley says that although Johnston claimed that his typeface was ‘based on classical Roman capital proportions’, the ‘G’ and ‘M’ are more akin to 15th-century pre-Roman Italian designs.

The original printing blocks of Edward Johnston’s Underground typeface at the London Transport Museum. Linked from London Reconnections.

News Gothic, designed by Morris Fuller Benton in 1908, occupies the interior of my exhibition medallion. Like Caslon, it has an austere and refined literary feel about it, making it a good companion to the former. In the medallion, I have spaced the letters out somewhat more than the default kerning so as to lessen the forward momentum that would otherwise have been experienced by the reader in what is not predominantly ‘storyline’ text.

Linked from Ladd Design. News Gothic (third from top) has an elegant fineness that distinguishes it from many other sans-serif typefaces.

Why not the Johnston typeface? I could have used the legendary Old Johnston which, unlike the New Johnston currently deployed on most of the Tube, is available for license to the public. I thought long and hard about it. The licence was well within budget and it could go very far in the way of invoking the London Underground spirit in my promotional materials. The ambience created by Johnston Old or New, however, is not of the kind I was looking for here. Johnston talks straight into your face with letters whose aim in life is to tell you what they are. It helps you parse, or string together, the letters of a dimly-lit station name quickly, even from a moving train, but does not encourage prolonged contemplation of complex ideas in the manner of something like Caslon. It thrives in the London Underground where I fell in love with it a decade ago, and that is where it belongs. As the maxim goes, ‘take nothing but photographs’, and that is what I did.

The London Underground Photo Exhibition takes place at The Strand Gallery, a stone’s throw from Trafalgar Square, from 26 March to 6 April 2013, sponsored by Loxley Colour (main sponsor) and Bob Books.

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Gareth Edwards’ article on the Johnston typefaces
Opening night of Poster Art 150
Chinese script

The best way to get expert judgement is not to ask the expert?

In our personal and public lives, we are often faced with the possibility of events that are unlikely to happen but will have catastrophic consequences if they do; we have heart attacks, collapse of banks, earthquakes, Space Shuttle disasters, and invasive species precipitating ecological meltdown, just to name a few. We cannot ignore these events, and it is important to make the best estimates of their probabilities of occurrence in order to formulate judicious and ethical risk-management policies. This is a formidable challenge because the rarity of these events makes it impossible collect enough data within a reasonable time horizon to arrive at statistical estimates, especially if the potential consequences are grave enough to necessitate urgent preventive measures. Furthermore, empirical investigation may be altogether impossible unless we make happen the very catastrophe we are trying to avert.

Space Shuttle Challenger, 28 January 1986. Photo: NASA

When we are thus stuck between a rock and a hard place, expert judgement may have to serve as a substitute for quantitative data; this was the focus of two seminars given by Mark Burgman, Professor of Environmental Science at the University of Melbourne and Director of the Australian Centre of Excellence for Risk Analysis, at the Cambridge Conservation Seminar series and Cambridge Public Policy seminar series.

One of the first messages to hit home from Mark’s empirical research with human subjects is that there is no correlation whatsoever between how expert a given person is perceived to be by his or her peers in a given discipline and how good his or her actual judgement is of a given problem in that discipline. People assess the expertise of their peers based mainly on age, appearance and number of publications, but there is no correlation of one’s judgement with any of those criteria. Indeed, there is no known way to pre-segregate people who would deliver good and bad judgements of a given problem.

Mark’s studies also show that groups containing a mixture of experts and non-experts collectively make judgements with lower bias and higher precision than individuals, as long as the group is not too large. Equal weighting should be given to everyone’s contribution; although the perceived experts may have more experience and context-awareness, they also have a higher tendency to be overconfident. The empirical results show that their judgements are no less error-prone than those of the novices. Furthermore, it was found that no individual, expert or otherwise, performed consistently across different problems within the same discipline.

Such teamwork can be a powerful tool for practitioners in diverse disciplines, all dealing with problems embedded within complex dynamic systems from ecosystem conservation to business dynamics, where numerous factors interact with one another through a convoluted topology of causal feedback loops. One can only hope to arrive at the best possible solution when all stakeholders in the problem at hand partake in the discussion from beginning to end. It is because this allows the problem to be tackled from diverse and complementary perspectives and provides ample opportunity to reconcile conflicting objectives, in order to arrive at the best possible understanding of the problem and a consensus that everyone truly believes in. This, you would probably agree, is preferable to a situation where disputes cannot be resolved and have to be put to the vote. There are numerous voting systems but, as Mark highlights, none of them is completely satisfactory and there is no known perfect solution. True democracy is an illusion, although it doesn’t work too badly in practice.

Linked from doniganmerritt.wordpress.com

Mark walked us through the basic nuts and bolts of group-based expert judgement using a very simple but highly illustrative example of estimating, or judging, the number of beans in a jar. Unlike a real-world rare extreme event, this setup was amenable to experimental manipulation. A judgement is first obtained from each individual in the group. He advocates four subsidiary questions for the individual:

1. What is your highest estimate of the number of beans?
2. What is your lowest estimate?
3. How confident are you that the actual number lies within those limits?
4. What is your best estimate of the number of beans?

This four-step process has been found to elicit the most accurate estimates from individuals—Mark welcomes ideas on how to do even better.

Next, one can improve the estimates by obtaining a consensus from multiple individuals. This is done by incorporating the innovative four-step process above into what is known as the Delphi Method. After each member of the group has independently given his or her answers to the four questions, the answers are collated and shown to the whole group. Each member is then asked to revise his or her personal answers given the collated figures, and the whole sequence may then be repeated again. This has been empirically shown to yield even more accurate estimates. Furthermore, the variation in inputs from multiple individuals with different cultural and educational backgrounds gives an idea of how robust and reliable the estimate might be. This is reminiscent, albeit tenuously, of a ‘sensitivity analysis’ of the robustness of mathematical model predictions in the face of parameter uncertainty. Despite the real-world importance of determining the degree of sensitivity of predictions to parameter uncertainty, sensitivity analysis is rarely done or required even by peer-reviewed ecology journals.

Conservation could benefit from group-based expert judgement, since ecological data are often scarce and incomplete and the nonlinear behaviour of complex ecosystems makes low-probability high-risk events inevitable. Mark’s take-home message is that expert judgement should be accorded the same reverence as scientific data, but it should be harnessed in a systematic way that minimizes bias and maximizes precision rather than being a haphazard question-and-answer session. The complementarity of quantitative data and expert judgement in turn feeds nicely, I think, into the system dynamics framework for simulating and solving complex nonlinear problems in many disciplines.

I am grateful to Mark Burgman for permission to communicate his research and hope it will be of value to my readers.

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