Friday, September 13, 2019

The electric eye torpedo.

 
In 1934, Vladimir K. Zworykin, the inventor of the Iconoscope video camera tube, stared into the sun and imagined... explosive laden Japanese fighter planes, manned by fanatical suicidal pilots, crashing down onto US military assets in an imminent war. 




In a flash of inspiration he decided his device should be used to counter this threat; that it should be placed into the noses of an unmanned military aircraft to become a 'flying torpedo with an electronic eye'. Its signal would be transmitted to a remote operator who would use the cameras vision to guide the aircraft, laden with explosives, into a enemy targets.

This highly classified project that would become known as Block was responsible for multiple breakthroughs in television imaging and transmission, radically reducing the equipment's size and weight while developing image resolution and contrast level that matched the transmission limitations against the quality of image required to identify and guide the projectiles towards a chosen target.¹


The system was used during WWII , though apparently infrequently, with many over produced Iconoscope cameras later finding their way into the post-war army surplus market² Project Block remains a little known footnote in the history of video, overshadowed by the medium's post war boom years, rapid technological improvements and commercial broadcast television's entry into so many aspects of Western culture.

The concept of an electric flying torpedo would have to wait some fifty years until advances provided increased accuracy and lethality, and a means to record higher definition images that could be disseminated to millions of television viewers before Zworykin's idea would have genuine military and cultural impact.
In the 80s, Paul Virilio draws attention to early era the film makers who wanted to cast their cameras through the air from Vertov's kino-eye to Abel Gance's desire for cameras thrown like snowballs. In War and Cinema he quotes Nam June Paik as proposing the root meaning of video as being not 'I see' but 'I fly'.

But the provenance of the electronic eye torpedo evades him, the idea of a missile guided by television seems startlingly new. 

Virilio: ''with the advent of electronic warfare.. projectiles have awakened and opened their many eyes: .... warheads fitted with video-cameras that can relay what they see to pilots and to ground controllers sitting at their consoles. The fusion is complete, the confusion perfect: nothing now distinguishes the functions of the weapon and the eye''³ 

During the Gulf War the POV of a television guided missile became a familiar sight on television and inspired thinkers and commentators. The idea of a 'clean war', a conflict fought only on television seemed to be, for commentators like Baudrillard, entirely a reflection of the contemporary technological state of the art. In 1993 Lev Manovich seems startled that he had 'witnessed what was "seen" by a machine, a bomb, or a missile'  

The electric eye torpedo became posited as a facet of the end game of electronic visual media, rather than it's beginning. 

While Project Block may appear to have been forgotten it's legacy endures - though perhaps, not where we might first look for it.

In the years prior to Project Block being developed, representatives of science, business, the entertainment industry and state were wondering what this new technology, electronic moving pictures should be used for; in which direction should it be taken.

After the second world war ended, television began to position itself as the dominant media platform until, by the end of the twentieth century continuous advances in miniaturization, image quality, stability and cost reduction delivered accessible video cameras first to state, then industry and community before the home and later, towards the present, they were to be found in every into every pocket in the developed world. 

Low cost, low power consumption, miniaturization, means they can now be anywhere, everywhere, to perform any task.

This moment of ubiquity, of universality may prompt questions similar to those asked in the 1930s. 

Where should we go with this now?

And from this position, privileged by the multitude of potentials for new direction that went with it emerged, among many others, an answer: the action cam. 

 

The construction and outward appearance of the action cam, like its great, great grandparent, the Block 1 is marked by the plainness of it's housing and an apparent lack of design flair. An entirely uniform and utilitarian unit, aesthetically, little more than a box with a lens. 

It's return to archetype may signal something significant. But there is difference to found here as well as similarity.
Despite the absence of a viewfinder and it's non-ergonomic design, the action cam is very much designed to function as a body worn device; a device that is 'potentially multi sensory and may not feature visuality as the most important modality of camera engagement. The experience may be more immediately physical and tactile,'֩ (5)Like the animated tripod in Vertov's Man with a Movie Camera, it's place of mounting will direct it's gaze, share it's gaze. 

The Block was operated from a position and state of disembodiment, the operator using visual display, joystick and command functions in a manner prescient of multiple remote technologies.

And despite any external similarity, there is another difference indicated if not  outward appearance, then by it's external materiality. The action cam's body is designed to withstand impact; significant impact and trauma beyond any level built into consumer level photographic products previously. It's exoskeleton must protect fragile inner components and optics not just from everyday use, but the strains of high velocity impact and extreme environmental conditions.

The Block, like the Japanese airmen that troubled Zworykin, and like so many assets during a time of war, was considered expendable. A successful mission would involve the delivery and detonation of high explosives mounted just a few feet from the camera body, tube and lens. It's rigid shell, was intended to protect the unit from extreme cold of high altitude, etc.; the rigors of it's single journey to it's target -- but not from it from it's final planned event.

And this is where similarity can be said to re-emerge for both cameras are expected to document high impact. The Block, imagined in the shock of the concept of suicidal dare devils and eighty years later - the action cam would appear to be designed to tolerate violent impact beyond that which it's operator's body could physically endure. Both cameras seem to ultimately share a purpose, to record (possibly fatal) impact and destruction.  

The video eye's first major deployment was as the ersatz eye of a suicide bomber; both cameras betray a desire to document the violent impact sustained of being thrust onto the photographic subject; a high velocity union where gaze is concertinaed, the focal plane and image are conjoined with the subject, possibly destroying it, or the operator, the camera or all three.  

As of 2018 Go Pro alone has sold in excess of 30 million action cams. Perhaps Mary Lucier was wrong. The purpose of the video camera was not to watch a rising star, but one that is falling. 


 

1. WWII Military Television Systems by Maurice Schechter was at the New Jersey Museum, InfoAge Science Center,


3. Paul Virilio, War and Cinema, Verso, 1989.

4. The Mapping of Space: Perspective, Radar, and 3-D Computer Graphics – Lev Manovich 1993 http://manovich.net/index.php/projects/article-1993

5. My Hero: A Media Archaeology of Tiny Viewfinderless Cameras as Technologies of Intra-Subjective Action, Lisa Cartwright and D. Andy Rice, 2016. http://sfonline.barnard.edu/traversing-technologies/lisa-cartwright-d-andy-rice-my-hero-a-media-archaeology-of-tiny-viewfinderless-cameras/0/


6. https://www.thestar.com.my/tech/tech-news/2018/07/17/gopro-has-now-sold-more-than-30-million-action-cameras-worldwide/