Bill Moggridge

It’s been a sad and bad year for interaction design losing some of its pioneers. Hillman Curtis, Andy Cameron and now Bill Moggridge, arguably the father of interaction design as a discipline and designer of the world’s first laptop, at just 69.

The Smithsonian’s Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum, where Bill was Director, has posted a lovely tribute (video embedded below) as well as resources of his talks and books. John Thackara, who has known him for many years, has also posted a nice personal tribute.

I’m particularly sad because Bill was one of the people on my “must meet one day” list, as his work and thoughts fed into many of my own. We were also hoping he would write the foreword to our book on service design, given his early interest and help in developing it and contact with the live|work founders, who appear in his Designing Interactions book. He would have been the man to connect the dots. Any of us working in this area – in design in general – owe him a great deal.

Andy Cameron


This morning I received the shocking and very saddening news that my ex-lecturer and colleague, friend and mentor, Andy Cameron died yesterday (May 28th) of a heart attack. Yet another great loss to the interactive media world.

Finding words is not usually something I struggle with, but today they are stuck in my throat. Andy quite simply changed the course of my life.

When I was a first year BA student, intending to become a film director, Andy was my “digital media” lecturer. He introduced us to Photoshop 2 and Macromind Director 3 and ways of thinking about this new thing called “interactivity”. It was with Andy that I wandered into the college’s VAX computer lab and got my first e-mail address, back in 1991, and where he first showed me “The Web” in line-mode text as it was back then and, later, Ted Nelson’s and Hypertext. Film directing went in the can as I saw the future potential of interactive media.

But it was Andy’s playful curiosity and enthusiasm that made the real difference. He encouraged us to explore and mess around with these new forms and technologies. He would gleefully tell us that we “should go and try” something, not really knowing if it were possible, but knowing that we would probably work it out. We did and we learned a great deal in the process. He would then feign his dismay at being out-done by his students – an experience I later had as a lecturer myself. He had a powerful intellect that placed these emerging media forms into context and was quick to call-out post-structuralist bullshitters – of which there were and still are many in the new media arts scene – and could do so due to his great knowledge of the material. His charming, slightly chaotic manner was a deceptive ruse. Underneath he was as sharp as a tack – just read some of his writing.

His greatest impact on me, though, was that he had the humility to let his students become collaborators and co-discovers. He saw the potential in the group of us who were playing with this new medium, going around to each others’ houses (including his) and showing off and swapping the little interactive “toys” we made. He encouraged us to take our playful exploration seriously, but managed to do so without sucking the life out of it. It was he who encouraged us to apply for an Arts Council grant and to set up shop as a collective studio. Andy was a pioneer, but shared his knowledge freely with us and encouraged us to come along for the ride. Without him, that group of us would never have eventually become Antirom and spawned the various careers and agencies with their roots in those early days and his intellectual generosity. We owe him a great deal.

Andy was a mentor for me for many years and shaped me intellectually and professionally more than anyone in my life, even after Antirom disbanded and I went on to have a similar hybrid commercial and academic career myself. His intellectual DNA is all over my PhD on playfulness and interactivity, which arose out of a conversation about trying to define the language of interactivity. I will always have fond memories of late nights at his place coding, designing and jabbering on about interactivity, of staying with him in Italy during a heatwave and his attempts to argue in poor Italian with the air conditioning engineers, and of those extraordinary formative years together at Antirom.

The other day I found a photo (a real, physical one) of Andy taken in the Antirom studios. I realised he was about the same age then as I am now and I realised just how much he gave me. Now I know just what a loss it is that he is gone.

My thoughts and sympathy go out to Emily and the boys.

(Creative Review has a nice tribute and comments about Andy).

R.I.P. Leo – 8.30AM, 22.3.2008

Double Leo

Our cat, Leo, who travelled with us all the way from Australia, died this morning having struggled with FIV (the feline version of HIV) for the last year.

For those of you who have never had a pet, this will probably sound ridiculously sentimental. Others will know how much they are loved and treated as much as one of the family as any human. And how heart-wrenching it is when they pass away.

Leo adopted us when we moved into our house in Sydney, having been abandoned by the previous neighbours, and quickly found his way into our hearts. I grew up with cats in the house and have known many, but rarely one with such character and never one that was so sociable. He was never aloof and always wanted to be around people. always sitting on our desks whilst we worked or on the sofa with us in the evening always chatty and purring. He even softened the hearts of even the most die-hard, anti-cat dog lovers.

He was truly one of a kind. For us he has been like a child over the past seven years. We both numb at the loss and sitting here swollen-eyed from all the tears. In some small way I hope that this little post secures his place and memory in the world.

Lastly, thank you to all the people who have cuddled him and looked after him whilst we were away. You all know what a lovely fella he was.

[tags]leo, rip[/tags]