|
RICHARDSON, Texas (AP) — David Hanson has two little Zenos to care
for these days. There's his 18-month-old son Zeno, who prattles and
smiles as he bounds through his father's cramped office. Then there's
the robotic Zeno. It can't speak or walk yet, but has blinking eyes
that can track people and a face that captivates with a range of
expressions.
At 17 inches tall and 6 pounds, the artificial Zeno
is the culmination of five years of work by Hanson and a small group of
engineers, designers and programmers at his company, Hanson Robotics.
They believe there's an emerging business in the design and sale of
lifelike robotic companions, or social robots. And they'll be showing
off the robot boy to students in grades 3-12 at the Wired NextFest
technology conference Thursday in Los Angeles.
Unlike clearly
artificial robotic toys, Hanson says he envisions Zeno as an
interactive learning companion, a synthetic pal who can engage in
conversation and convey human emotion through a face made of a
skin-like, patented material Hanson calls frubber.
"It's a representation of robotics as a character animation medium,
one that is intelligent," Hanson beams. "It sees you and recognizes
your face. It learns your name and can build a relationship with you."
It's no coincidence if the whole concept sounds like a science-fiction movie.
Hanson
said he was inspired by, and is aiming for, the same sort of realism
found in the book "Supertoys Last All Summer Long," by Brian Aldiss.
Aldiss' story of troubled robot boy David and his quest for the love of
his flesh-and-blood parents was the source material for Steven
Spielberg's film "Artificial Intelligence: AI."
He plans to make little Zenos available to consumers within the next three years for $200 to $300.
Until
then, Hanson, 37, makes a living selling and renting pricey, lifelike
robotic heads. His company offers models that look like Albert
Einstein, a pirate and a rocker, complete with spiky hair and
sunglasses. They cost tens of thousands of dollars and can be
customized to look like anyone, Hanson said.
The company, which
has yet to break even, was also buoyed by a $1.5 million grant from the
Texas Emerging Technology Fund last October. The fund was created by
Gov. Rick Perry in 2005 to improve research at Texas universities and
help startup technology companies get off the ground.
Hanson
concedes it's going to be at least 15 years before robot builders can
approach anything like what seems to be possible in movies. Zeno the
robot remains a prototype.
During a recent demonstration, Zeno
could barely stand and had to be tethered to a bank of PCs that told it
how to smile, frown, act surprised or wrinkle its nose in anger.
Robotics,
Hanson believes, should be about artistic expression, a creative medium
akin to sculpting or painting. But convincing people that robots should
look like people instead of, well, robots, remains a challenge that
robot experts call the "uncanny valley" theory.
The theory posits
that humans have a positive psychological reaction to robots that look
somewhat like humans, but that robots made to look very realistic end
up seeming grotesque instead of comforting.
"Nobody complains
that Bernini's sculptures are too darn real, right? Or that Norman
Rockwell's paintings are too creepy," Hanson said. "Well, robots can
seem real and be loved too. We're trying to make a new art medium out
of robotics."
So just how did Hanson end up with two Zenos, anyway?
It all goes back to when his wife, Amanda, gave birth to their first child and Zeno the robot was already in the works.
They
rattled off several names to their baby boy, but it wasn't until they
whispered "Zeno" that "this look of peace fell over his face; it was
like soothing to his ears," Hanson recalled.
"There was no way we could give him any other name. He chose Zeno as his name," he said.
That was just fine with Amanda.
"I thought that it was very endearing, very sweet," she said.
The
similarities go beyond the name. Though Zeno the robot was built to
resemble the animated Japanese TV show character Astro Boy, his plastic
hair and saucer-shaped eyes bear a striking resemblance to the curly
locks and wide-eyed smile of the real Zeno.
"So by coincidence
they're both Zeno, and in other ways this robot has become more of a
portrait sculpturally of the son, although it's almost coincidence,"
said Hanson, whose previous jobs include working as a character
sculptor for The Walt Disney Co. "We didn't consciously sculpt this
robot to look like him. It's the way things filter through the hands of
the artist."
Hanson says one of the robot Zeno's biggest
advancements is that its brains aren't inside the robot. Instead Zeno
synchs wirelessly to a PC running a variant of Massive Software — the
same Academy Award-winning code that enabled the fantastical battles
among humans, orcs and elves in the "Lord of the Rings" movies.
Like
some modern version of Geppetto's workshop, Hanson's office is crammed
with rows of shelves stacked with books about robots next to toy robots
and plastic skulls. Notes ranging from mathematical formulas to design
sketches cover several white boards like high-tech graffiti.
There
are scattered bits from Hanson's previous creations, including Albert
Hubo, a white robotic body topped with a realistic head of Albert
Einstein that has graced magazine covers and even shaken hands with
President Bush.
Hanson has been recognized for his work,
garnering accolades from the Association for the Advancement of
Artificial Intelligence in 2005 and a "best design" award at the
Smithsonian's Cooper-Hewitt National Design Triennial last year.
But Hanson is most proud of the real Zeno, a rambunctious toddler who frolics with free rein among priceless electronics.
"If
the robots become popular I suppose it will pose an identity crisis for
my son," Hanson said. "But I think that the amount of love that he
receives will make him feel like an individual no matter what."
- http://www.zenosworld.com
Trackback(0)
Comments 
Write comment
 |
TrackBack URI for this entry
Subscribe to this comment's feed