Yixi (Chris) Wu

Bread Reader

In the night, I SEE a light

Dancing LIGHTLY BETWEEN the trees

I SEE the old MILL

Standing firm, its blades KEEP turning

I SEE the world with new eyes

Written by a slice of bread.

The Waste Machines exhibition poster on a clipboard

It began in a studio about electronic waste.

Waste Machines, an Advanced Synthesis Options Studio at Carnegie Mellon's School of Architecture, fall 2024. We took discarded electronics apart to question planned obsolescence, and made something new from them.

A toaster taken apart on a workbench, its shell, lever and parts laid out

A $10 toaster nobody claimed. A ten-year-old scanner from eBay.

Bread Reader from above: a stripped toaster with a handheld scanner and wiring, a slice of bread beside it

Together they became

Bread Reader

A machine that reads a slice of bread, and turns it into a poem

A hand pushes a slice of bread into the machine, a laptop running beside it

Push the bread down, and the scanner reads it.

A capacitive sensor made of a resistor, a wire and aluminum foil starts the scan as you push. A button at the bottom stops it.

Pen sketches of the toaster hack: the shell off, a foil sensor and button, a relay to the scanner, a pulley and rope to move it

My sketches of the hack, step by step.

I took over the scanner's power, its button and its motion.

No backup scanner, a casing that would not open, tiny solder points on the switch, and many 3D-printed parts that never quite fit.

To the scanner, a slice is a picture.

Bread is data.

I wrote a program that reads its pores as words.

Each pixel's shade becomes a letter, darkest A to lightest Z. The letters around each pore are matched against 5,000 common English words.

ON a crooked path,
A FEMALE crow caws loud,
With feathers on her HEAD.

A fish with a GILL
Dances in the mist,
Whispering of LIFE.

CHAFF swirls like secrets,
“Shall I DECIDE to fly,
Or sink like the DEAD?”

A paper BILL flaps,
HIGH in a twisted tree,
Caught on a bright BEAM.

To FEED on the strange,
As shadows FALL like rain,
A rusty BELL peals.

Then the bread speaks.

The OpenAI API writes a poem around the found words, in the order they were found. The Mac reads it aloud, and the printer prints it.

Printed poems pinned to a wall, each with the slice of bread it came from

At the Waste Machines exhibition, December 10, 2024.

Every slice writes a different poem.

Visitors took home their bread, and its poem.

A poem is only a few bytes. It can last for centuries.

Role
Concept, hardware hacking, fabrication, software
Course
Waste Machines, Advanced Synthesis Options Studio, Carnegie Mellon University, with Daragh Byrne
Year
Fall 2024
Video
Watch the demo

ELino

DGraduate, year two

CGraduate, year one

BGap year

AUndergraduate

Selected works · Playground