MAKING MISCHIEF

From Foundation Studies to Creative Strategies

Written and conceived by Terry Hayes
Interviewed by Raymond Hestery
Photography by Eric Riddler

What follows is a transcript of two interviews I recorded with Terry Hayes between 10-11 September 2020. Terry was one of a number of key participants in the First-year program and was part of a small handful of ‘provocateurs’ who were willing to ‘stir things up’. When approached initially to write an introduction to his selection of first-year projects, he declined (he was always rather reticent to talk about the ‘funny business’, as he described it). But when I suggested that without some kind of explanation as to their historical context and function within the program as a whole, they wouldn’t make a great deal of sense. He agreed, that they would probably read ‘as a whole lot of bullshit’. It was at this point I proposed interviewing him, so we could discuss the program more broadly. I began by asking him about his first impressions of the place.

“Back then in 1986, we were based out at Penrith, on the outskirts, at a place called Peachtree, a warehouse on an industrial estate, a long way from Head Office. It was a basic set up as factories go: raw material in one end, finished product out the other. When I first arrived I was told they were a bit short up the Front end and my job would be to assist with the initial fit-out of the product – basic unskilled labour stuff. A small crew was involved. The foreman was a bloke called Chai, a man of few words, who knew the business inside out and didn’t mind getting his hands dirty – ‘putting in’ as he called it. I warmed to him immediately, he never talked down to you. There was another casual who joined the Firm the same time as me, I think his name was Harry. He always had a smoke on the go, as you could back then, was good for a laugh when things got dull and a bit of a stirrer like myself.”

I asked him what the work entailed exactly and what he meant by ‘the initial fit-out’. He explained how the raw material from which the product was manufactured and the modifications necessary to process it into the generic prototype or ‘generics’.

“The raw material would usually arrive at the beginning of the year in one big load. The order would have already been partially pre-treated through pre-wash and fumigation and then put through a process called ‘Ice Cooling’ to freeze dry the material. Most of our orders came via the Western Sydney Treatment Plants. I always remember the foreman shouting: ‘Get yer gloves on, the order’s arriving, the truck’s backing up the loading dock, get ready to unload!’ One of our initial tasks was to remove from the belt any part of the order that had not been pre-washed and ice cooled; the ‘blow ins’ as we described them. They were often older stock, visibly grubbier and often still warm. We had to spray them with a decontaminant in case they cross-infected the rest of the batch; they were then returned to the conveyor and processed just like the rest.”

He went on to talk about an attachment called an Advice Receiver (ARs) that were fitted to each generic prototype. I asked him to describe the AR and its purpose.

“They were about the size of a fifty cent coin and while the generics were still thawing out we inserted them deep into the tissue, where they couldn’t be seen. They were a bit like a pacemaker that Kept Things Moving. Once attached and activated, they would speed up production no end. It was a very efficient time-saving device the old AR.”

He went on to explain how the Advice Receiver had been tuned to five pre-set frequencies that could be controlled remotely by a Systems Programmer (SP). This allowed the SP to switch the generic between different settings and to direct it to act on the advice transmitted without realising it had been programmed to do so. With the SP controlling the Advice Receiver, it was possible to effectively bypass unnecessary frequency interference – you know, all those annoying ‘questions’ and ‘Why’ business, that the generics would otherwise generate, holding up production for no real gain. Why five tunings? I asked.

“Well you see, there were these things called Deep Art Mentals at the Next Level Up that we had to prepare the generics to interface with. But we’re jumping ahead of ourselves. We should talk about the studdies next.”

‘Studdies?’

“This was a complicated process you needed training for before you were allowed to work on the ‘studdies’ as we called them. It was where the generics were sent, along the belt once they’d had their Advice Receivers fitted. It was a four part process. The first of the four studdies – they all looked slightly similar from the outside, big adjoining booths with large metal cabinets inside them. They were situated up the side of the factory like four big stalls. We called them the studdies because they reminded us of the stables in stud farms where horses were gelded. They made a hell of a racket, lots of neighing and shrieking and frantic banging from the inside. This was where the generics were further modified as they passed through the four treatments. The first of the studdies was a large tank with ‘2D’ stamped on the side. This was basically an acid bath that would burn off all the nobbly bits and give a nice smooth flat surface to the product. Then it was slowly lowered into a similar tank labelled ‘3D’, which contained a thick viscous liquid that would fill in all the cracks and crevices leaving a very pleasing overall shape and uniformity, once the product had hardened and cured. From there it went through a third phase that was like a spray booth. It was known as ‘Complementary Practice’ but we were never quite sure what exactly was being ‘practiced’ in there. They came out the other end all shiny and bright with a glazed look. We used to joke about the CP treatment as being where the generics acquired good manners: ‘How are you today? Not bad thanks, and you? Good thank you. You have a nice day! You too!” The last of the studdies was a kiln-like structure labelled ‘Investigative’, where the generics were scanned for any internal blemishes or weaknesses not visible to the naked eye and then pressure tested. Occasionally you would hear one explode when the pressure was cranked up a bit, but most came through intact. The generics couldn’t be forwarded up the line to the Next Level Up until they’d been successfully processed through the four studdies and stamped with a ‘Quality Assured’ certification. And then there was the flight testing.”

Flight testing? What on earth was that?

“Ray, it was all about getting them to fly straight and hit their set target. We had to take them out the back of the factory where the testing took place, the ‘firing range’ we called it. It was where we fed them into a launcher called AIMS (Accelerated Impact Missile System). They were fired at great velocity towards a target that was known as ‘The Objective’. There were various technicians on hand to monitor flight path trajectory and to check they met all the targeted specifications as to speed, impact and accuracy. That they flew straight and direct with no deviation. This was known as a ‘Learning Outcome’ (LO). There were a few of these LOs that had to be ‘Signed Off On’. In this instance where they had clearly demonstrated they had a goal and had met their objective. The faulty ones, the ‘deviants’ as we called them, were quickly identified at this stage, they would misfire, overshoot, backfire, you name it. They were weeded out and sent back for recycling. The final job, once the Advice Receivers had been fitted, they’d been treated through the four studdies and flight tested through AIMS and Objective was to install the Concept Detecting Device.”

And what was that exactly? I asked, somewhat incredulously.

“Look Ray, to be honest none of us could quite work out the point of this device, but management insisted every generic be fitted with one. It was a little sensor programmed to detect these things called ‘concepts’. We thought of it as truffle hunting. To test that the device was working correctly, we were required to hide concepts around the building like a kiddie’s game. Think calling cards with ‘concepts’ printed on them. But in among these were a variety of pseudo-concept cards, that were printed slightly differently with things such as ‘ideas’ and ‘thoughts’, decoys in other words. This made locating a genuine concept more challenging and could confirm the efficiency of the device, once they had returned with a correct calling card and therefore could demonstrate they had ‘found a concept’. This was another of those ‘Learning Outcomes’ that the generic had to be ‘Signed Off On’, before it could proceed to the Next Level Up. We often came across forlorn looking generics, wandering the factory floor, despairing of ever locating a ‘concept’, they kept coming back with the false leads: the misleading ‘thoughts’ and ‘ideas’. We kept encouraging them not to give up, that they would find one eventually – but the prognosis didn’t look good and you sensed they knew they were not going to make it to the NLU.”

But Terry, I still don’t get the point of why the generics needed a concept in the first place.

“Well Ray, bear with me, the generics were programmed not to start anything until they had ‘found a concept’. As best we could understand, it had something to do with explaining what something was about and how to go about explaining what that something was about. It was thought that without a proper concept the product wouldn’t be the product it was, if you get my drift.”

Not really. Now that you’ve explained what happened at the Front end of the factory, could you talk about what happened at the Next Level Up with the Deep Art Mentals. Now they sound intriguing.

“Deep Art Mentalisation. Don’t get me started about the DAMs, Ray. This took place up the back end of the factory and was off-limits to those of us working up the Front end on the preliminary fit-out to ‘lock-up stage’. We had a vague idea of what went on back there from former employees who were prepared to break the code of silence. One of those blokes, who had been demoted for some minor misdemeanour or other, had very few kind words to say about the Deep Art Mentals; he thought they were a bit ‘up themselves’ (he was no Virgin Mary himself). Anyway, he told us it was where the five varieties were manufactured from the basic generic prototype through a process called ‘Disciplining’. The generic could be ‘disciplined’ one of five different ways. From what we understood each of the DAMs worked off a slightly different formula of the same basic set of ingredients: think of artificial colourings and flavourings. This allowed the Company to produce a product range. Each was packaged slightly differently to give it its own distinctive look. The Company ran five basic lines, consumer choice they called it. And this was where they were smart in fixing the pre-set tunings on the Advice Receivers, because this allowed them to adjust the quota of the generics coming up the line as they fed into the DAMs. You see, some were more popular than others and as demand changed from year to year, by switching between the optional tunings you could make more of this and less of that, thereby altering production quotas against consumer demand.”

Now what can you tell me about what came to be known as ‘The Great Disruption’, which caused the Company to radically rethink its operations. How did it come about and who was involved?

“I won’t be naming names if that’s what you’re after, except for Fritz of course (but that’s not his real name). From time to time management would schedule consultation sessions with its employees, ‘Retreats’ they were called, feel good stuff to make everyone feel like a Valued Part Of The Firm. This is where the bosses from HQ gleaned feedback from those of us on the shop floor about ways we could Do Things Better. There was a lot of talk about the need to ‘Innovate’ to maintain ‘Market Share’ and we had to come up with ‘Fresh Ideas’. The Front end workers always thought they talked a whole lot of bollocks and these meetings were a complete waste of time. We went along mainly for the day off work and the tea and biscuits. After those of us at the Front end had been in the job a few years we were starting to become brain-dead, as they say. Then one day, after one of those tea and biscuit sessions, a few Frontenders went off and had a beer as we often did to recover. After we’d downed a few, one bright spark suggested we should make some mischief to liven things up. After a few more beers, we agreed, why not. Things couldn’t get any duller. We plotted to implant a gizmo into the Advice Receiver that could remain undetected but could corrupt its operational tunings and send the generics out of control. Imagine Ray: Chaos, Anarchy, Mayhem! Now that would put the wind up management and make it sit up and pay attention.”

I asked him to elaborate on how the ‘gizmo’ worked. He went into great technical detail about an FSP interfacing with a CSC. Most of it went over my head. From what I can gather, the FSP was a piece of software that could override the AR’s system program and communicate directly with a thing they had developed called a Creative Strategic Capability (CSC), which could trigger a partial system meltdown and scramble existing settings. Unpredictable outcomes would then be generated in relation to any subsequent advice received. The generic would then ignore any directive given and appear to have developed what one might call a ‘mind of its own’.

“The FSP was Fritz’s System Program. Fritz was the brains behind it so we thought we should name it after him. He came up with the idea of encrypting the existing systems program with a rogue virus. As I’ve already explained, the existing system program triggered the predictable response it required, Pavlov Doggy Fashion. It was Fritz’s idea to meddle with the signal so it would instead generate the ‘funny business’. Ray, the best way I can explain it is this: think of old radios where you could tune the dial to different frequencies and pick up reception to different stations. Now imagine the dial having a mind of its own, wandering up and down the stations at random, generating what sounds like white noise – that’s what the FSP did. The thing we called the Creative Strategic Capability (meaning we didn’t really know what we were getting involved in, with this little device) basically powered up the reception of the FSP signal to dangerous levels. Some of us thought we were moving too quickly into ‘Manhattan Project’ territory and we should pull back before we get into deep trouble. But then, we thought, what the hell, what’s the worst that can happen? If things get out of hand, they might shut us down? Prophetic words Ray, prophetic words. So we supercharged the CSCs and inserted them when we inserted the Advice Receivers, stood back and waited for the shit to hit the fan. The only problem was once the CSCs had been activated, we realised they could not be deactivated. We had lost the means of stabilising the tunings back into the five pre-set frequencies attuned to the Deep Art Mentals. All the generics were starting to malfunction and exhibit ‘aberrant behaviour’ – they were all over the dial. A team of diagnosticians were brought in to rectify the problem. They said the generics were suffering from what they termed ‘interdisciplinary disorder’. ‘Interdisciplinarity’ had somehow infiltrated the processing and there was little they could do to fix it. The Deep Art Mentals were not happy about this outbreak. They complained that the tried and tested formula upon which the Company had built its reputation was being compromised by this apparent coding mutation. Complaints arrived stating that all manner of oddments were coming up the line that breached formula guidelines. The Company needed to step in and address the issue before things got out of hand. More inspectors arrived and we were directed to fully overhaul all the machinery at the Front end, where they assumed the problem resided. We Frontenders came under suspicion and were sent to Head Office and quizzed about the problem. We acted dumb and pleaded ignorance. Once management realised they couldn’t fix it, they would have to let things run their course and hope for the best. The irony is that things never did come good but something unexpected happened instead. Even those of us up the Front end, who were only really in it for the mischief, were as surprised as everybody else that our ‘spanner in the works’ ended up infecting the entire program with this interdisciplinary virus. It was beginning to produce a whole new range of product the like of which had never been seen before. Who would have thought? Management quickly changed their tune and came on board, referring to their new multipurpose product as ‘cutting edge’. The publicity people were right onto it. Our market share picked up overnight and once management realised they were onto a good thing, well, we couldn’t produce enough of the stuff. It was boom time and the business had a bright future. We were given the go ahead to reorganise the assembly line and adapt it to the new interdisciplinary-friendly situation. All the initiatives generated by the Creative Strategic Capability needed a very different set up to accommodate the new ID (internally driven) imperative. The Deep Art Mentals were scrapped and the old studdies switched off once we realised we could produce a better multipurpose product if we left the nobbly bits on. With the new multidirectional capability, the old style of aiming to hit only the one target of AIMS and Objectives, well that was now completely out the window”.

The unintended consequence of the ‘Great Disruption’, the ‘mischief making’ as you refer to it, sounds like it really stirred things up in a good way. It sounds like you were becoming leaders in this new field of multi-purposing, with the inbuilt CSC now guaranteed. So how come the Company folded?

“Takeover Ray, takeover. There had been rumours circulating for some time that a takeover was on the cards. Some big corporation could see market potential for the Peachtree product. They could see an International Market opening up and with the right kind of investment and build a new ‘facility’ (as they liked to call the factory). The new ‘facility’ was relocated to the Corporation’s HQ in Kingswood, a sprawling light industrial precinct with abundant office space. Head Office could now keep an eye on things, the ‘Executive’ or ‘Upper Level Management’ could have something called ‘oversight’. The various facilities on the main site were ascribed alphabetically. Our ‘facility’ was located at the arse-end of the alphabet and was known as Z building or Z block. That’s how the corridor between Y block and Z block became Space YZ, pretty clever stuff. We moved to Z and geared up for production in 1992. Given the Corporation’s investment and their so-called ‘Upscaling’ and ‘know how’ about ‘How best to run things’, it became apparent early on that trouble was brewing. Bean counters could be seen wandering the factory floor with clipboards, tasked to come up with ‘ideas about greater efficiencies’. Most every year there would be this thing called a ‘restructure’, where we were required to keep re-arranging things: moving furniture about for the sake of moving furniture about. It took up a lot of time and energy but seemed to keep the bean counters and upper management happy. They liked to ‘keep us on our toes’, ‘implementing the new restructure’. After a while we got get jacked off with all this restructuring and complained to those ‘upstairs’ that it was not part of our initial job description: all the mindless paperwork involved and having to have everything ‘Signed Off On’ all the time. We could see that this was beginning to impact on the quality of the product, what with all the additional ‘cost cutting measures to increase efficiencies’ bullshit. Many of us got pissed off, being ordered about by management to ‘change our procedures’ as if we didn’t know what we were doing. Many experienced workers left and the place was never quite the same. The tipping point was when they realised they could shift more product at a lower cost if they powered down the Creative Strategic Capability, to simplify the design by lowering the complexity quotient. They loathed complexity as they believed it slowed down production. They insisted we shut down any further production of the full strength CSC to ‘streamline things’. The product could no longer be fully CSC Guaranteed. We knew without a fully charged CSC the product was virtually worthless. Then came the announcement: we were going to be closed down, as we were ‘running at a loss’ and were ‘no longer viable’. The figures they gave us were always very rubbery – ‘creative accountancy’ we called it. Production ceased in 2008. I was there to see the last of the product roll off the assembly line.”

Over the 20 years or so that the factory was in full production Terry reckoned they would have been involved in the manufacture of a thousand or more CSC guaranteed Multipurpose Products. He was pleased to note that many of them are still functioning in the world and are now, he understands, highly sought after Collectors’ Items. He comes across them from time to time in exhibitions of one kind or another pleased to see the CSCs still ticking away.

“Hey Ray, that should be enough to give them some idea of how all this came about, now switch off the recorder and let’s go and have a beer”.