20 HP · sequencer
A sequencer you don't write. Workers walk a comb of thirty-seven lit cells, each a note. Every visit leaves honey, the cells they keep coming back to fill and play, and the tune settles into their paths.
Turn a knob: drag it, roll the wheel over it or use the arrow keys; a double click puts it back. WORKERS and SCALE click from number to number. Press QUEEN to call the workers home and take the honey.
example patches
The comb and the notes here are HONEYCOMB's own engine, its firmware's, running in your browser: where each worker steps, the honey it leaves, what plays, how the cells light. HONEYCOMB makes no sound of its own; the clock and everything you hear are stand-ins for the rest of a rack.
Thirty-seven hexagonal cells of bare circuit board, lit from behind, each a note. The middle cell is ROOT. The cell next door is always a third or a fifth away in the scale, so any three cells that touch make a chord: the middle of the comb is the chord on ROOT, with the sevenths and ninths further out. Across the comb the notes rise from left to right, up to about two octaves either side of ROOT.
On every clock one worker takes a step, the next in turn, so the notes keep the clock's pace however many are out. A worker plays the cell it lands on only if there's honey enough in it. No two workers share a cell.
Every visit leaves honey, and a cell plays once it holds a quarter. So a fresh comb is silent: the cells a worker comes back to start to sound, and glow brighter as they fill. Each worker follows the freshest honey it has laid, so it keeps coming back. The cells it walks fill, the full cells get walked, and within a few bars it's walking a short path, often three cells that touch: a chord picked out a note at a time.
Now and then a worker tries an empty cell, and the path drifts. Honey dries: a little of it in seconds, a full cell over a minute. A path that's still walked stays full; an old one fades.
QUEEN, the button or a trigger at its jack, calls every worker home to the middle and takes the honey. The comb drains in half a second and goes dark, and the tune grows again from silence. A clock divider into QUEEN gives a new tune every so many bars.
Twenty HP, every part on the line's staggered grid and mirrored about the middle. The art is a honey bee in gold dots, pinned out like a specimen with its wings spread round the comb. The comb is bare circuit board in the middle of the panel, lit amber from behind, a light of its own under every cell.
One four-layer board sits 10 mm behind the panel, with the jacks, the knobs, QUEEN's key switch and an RGB LED under each of the 37 cells on its front, and everything else on its back. A printed black block between them gives every cell a chamber of its own, so each window is lit by its own LED. An RP2350 runs the walk 4,000 times a second; a clock edge reaches it 1.5 ms after it arrives, so a ROOT that changes with the clock has settled first. PITCH and SWEET come from a 16-bit DAC, and each unit's ROOT and PITCH can be calibrated over USB with a meter.
Drag to look around. Lift the panel to see the baffle's cells, lit from the LEDs on the board.