Task 9: Golden Record Curation
When I loaded the quiz data into the Palladio tool for visualization of our Golden Record data, it appeared to be a single, dense cluster, a tangle of connections that made it hard to tell where one participant’s choices ended and another’s began. As I began to explore more carefully, small groups started to emerge. These clusters revealed that while our selections overlap, they also diverge in subtle ways. The network functions as both a map of shared taste and a reflection of our individuality within a collective.
Below are some selected screenshots from my Palladio visualization, used to illustrate and consider key patterns and limitations within the dataset. Each image represents a different aspect of how our musical preferences connect, and what remains unseen beneath the surface of those connections.
Figure 1: The full Palladio network of class selections, appearing as one large cluster but containing smaller communities of shared musical taste.
At first glance, the visualization seems to represent a unified cluster, a dense web of connections linking participants to the tracks they selected. Yet when you look more closely, the graph begins to fragment into visible subgroups. These modularity-based clusters suggest that while our choices overlap, our patterns of musical preference are not identical. The visualization makes visible both our collective identity and the quiet distinctions within it.
Figure 2: The Well-Tempered Clavier acts centrally, connecting many participants through shared familiarity with Western classical music.
When highlighting Track 17, The Well-Tempered Clavier, a dense network of links emerges. I pulled this track towards the outer edge and the entire cluster reacted. With its numerous connections radiating outward, its connections suggest a common point, perhaps due to its general familiarity or its perceived timelessness. The visualization reflects not just popularity but also the deep cultural circulation of certain musical works that have become absolute classics.
Figure 3: Peripheral tracks, chosen only once or twice, sit at the outer edge of the network, nearly detached from the dense centre.
At the margins of the network are tracks that were selected by only one or two people. These peripheral nodes, such as Track 16, Rite of Spring, Sacrificial Dance, highlight the rarity or unfamiliarity of some pieces. Their physical separation with only minor connections to the core mirrors how exposure, cultural familiarity, and even naming conventions might influence what gets recognized. The visualization invites reflection on how rarity is not equivalent to insignificance. These isolated selections often embody the diversity and nuance that risk being overshadowed by collective consensus.
Figure 4: Panpipes and Drum (Peru) links multiple clusters, serving as a bridge between distinct musical communities.
In contrast to the isolated nodes, some tracks span multiple clusters. Track 13, Panpipes and Drum (Peru), is one such example, connecting participants who otherwise share few other selections. This bridging quality suggests that certain sounds carry cross-cultural resonance, a universal rhythm or texture that transcends genre and geography. Yet the visualization alone cannot explain why these bridges exist. They might reflect curiosity, recognition, or the allure of the unfamiliar. The network can only show connection, but cannot reflect motivation.
As I considered this network in light of Abby Smith Rumsey’s reflections on preservation and digitization, one idea stood out: we have, in a sense, reenacted her central question, “What should we digitize?” In examining the Golden Record through a new lens, our class collectively reaffirmed that almost every piece deserved to be preserved. Nearly every track resonated with someone, even decades later. What fades from our selection is not proof of irrelevance but evidence of limited visibility, access, or familiarity.
The visualization ultimately shows the power and limitation of data representation. It captures what we share but cannot reveal why we share it. Like the Golden Record itself, it is both a celebration of connection and a reminder of what remains unsaid, a partial yet meaningful archive of human choice filtered through the lenses of time, memory, and technology.
References
Elmer-Dewitt, P. (1993, April 12). Take a trip into the future on the electronic superhighway. Time Magazine, 141(15), 50–55. https://time.com/archive/6722878/take-a-trip-into-the-future-on-the-electronic-superhighway/
Leetaru, K. (2017, July 31). In the digital era, if it hasn’t been digitized, does it even exist? Forbes Magazine. https://www.forbes.com/sites/kalevleetaru/2017/07/31/in-the-digital-era-if-it-hasnt-been-digitized-does-it-even-exist/
NASA. (1977). Voyager golden record: Sounds of Earth. NASA Science. https://science.nasa.gov/mission/voyager/golden-record-contents/sounds/
Smith, A. (1999). What is digital information? Digitization is not preservation—at least not yet. Digitization is access—lots of it. What is gained and what is lost. In Why digitize? (CLIR Publication No. 80, pp. 1–13). Council on Library and Information Resources. https://www.clir.org/pubs/reports/pub80-smith/pub80-2/