Not Sure I Would Like The Feel

There’s something both fascinating and faintly unsettling about this photograph. At first glance, it’s a familiar object — a double bass, resting in its case, warm varnished wood catching the light. But then the eye meets the alien appendages: an elaborate framework of carbon-fibre rods, clamps, and actuators, bolted to the instrument’s body. Tradition and craft meet machine logic here, in a way that’s almost confrontational.

From a compositional standpoint, the photographer has made a decisive choice to fill the frame with the instrument, anchoring it in the lower half while allowing the vertical lines of the robotic structure to carry the gaze upwards. The background, populated with drums, flight cases, and speaker cabinets, grounds the scene in the world of live performance, adding context without becoming clutter.

Technically, the exposure is very well judged. The sunlight streaming in from the right highlights the bass’s grain and colour without burning out the details, while the shadows cast by the metal rigging lend a welcome sense of depth. Focus is crisp, allowing both the wooden curves and the mechanical precision to be appreciated equally. The tonal balance between the warm timber and the cool blues of the robotic apparatus works to underscore the central theme: the collision of the organic and the engineered.

What makes this image particularly effective is its refusal to romanticise either side. The instrument is not diminished by the machinery, nor is the machinery fetishised. Instead, we are left to contemplate the implications — the feel of a bow drawn not by human muscle and intuition, but by servo motors and code. And, as the title suggests, whether we would truly like the result is another question entirely.