Lau Kofoed Kierstein: Playtime in the Land of Lego
Age:
30
What He Does:
Comes up with ideas for new toys; designs toys
For Whom:
Lego System A/S
Where He Does It:
Billund, Denmark
Fun Factors:
Tests prototype toys with children; travels around
the world to meet with toy designers and check out new
electronic components; plays with competitors' toys
"Up there is
where I have my table, but, unfortunately, you can't see
it," says Lau Kofoed Kierstein, smiling sheepishly and
pointing at some second-story windows in a brick
building with a red-tile roof. We're standing in a
charming, green, leaf-strewn quadrangle in the bucolic
headquarters complex of the toy giant Lego System A/S in
Billund, Denmark.
For a year now Kierstein has been the technical lead
"on a project of great strategic importance....It's
going to be a big blast when it comes out, that's for
sure. It will be a new era for Lego."
"We play a lot, and we test a lot of different
things," he adds. "Every week, we have kids coming in,
and we play with them to see what is cool for them, what
is hip for them. It's intense because we are on unknown ground."
That's all he can say about it.
Really? Nothing else? "Well, it comes out in 2005."
The world of high-tech toy making is viciously
competitive, with huge fortunes turning on the ideas and
expertise of a relatively small number of people. But if
the 30-year-old Kierstein is typical, these people are
not letting a little cutthroat competition stand in the
way of rather great amounts of fun. On our second day of
meetings, he apologizes for being a few minutes late. It
turns out he and his co-workers had spent the morning
racing some radio-controlled cars.
Toy Story:: Lau Kofoed Kierstein's first big project for
Lego was the Galidor Kek Powerizer, which
responded to cues broadcast by a children's
television show.
The ubiquitous primary-colored plastic building blocks
remain the backbone of the Lego line, but
electronics-based playthings—such as the MindStorms
line of modular robotic toys—make up about 10 percent
of the company's 450 different retail offerings,
according to Lego spokeswoman Mette Uhd Hansen. And
Kierstein, as senior technologist in Lego's Global
Innovation and Marketing Organization, finds himself
involved with almost everything the company is working
on that beeps, glows, talks, walks, or races around the
floor.
Besides designing toys and brainstorming about them,
he helps designers and marketers understand what can be
done with electronics, he travels around the world to
keep in touch with Lego freelance toy designers, and he
checks in periodically at the MIT Media Laboratory in
Cambridge, Mass., which Lego cosponsors.
At Lego's home base in Billund, he has a work area in
each of two Lego buildings; they're bright, open, airy
spaces where he and other Lego designers and engineers
talk, hash out designs, play with toys, and kick around
ideas. At the moment, those areas are strewn with secret
prototype toys, which is why I'm not allowed to enter.
A lifelong music fan who plays bass guitar in a U2
cover band called Elevation, Kierstein found his way
into the toy business through his specific passion:
acoustics. Four years ago, while he was working in
Copenhagen as an engineer at an acoustics institute
affiliated with the Technical University of Denmark, he
had an idea for an inexpensive circuit to detect where
sounds are coming from. He thought Lego might want it.
They didn't, but they did want him.
"I was lucky. Or they were lucky. I don't know," he laughs.
His first assignment at Lego was to come up with an
action figure to go with a children's sci-fi television
show called "Galidor." The company's franchise director,
Jacob Kragh, turned Kierstein loose on the project with
these words: "We need a $50 item. Do something interesting."
He did. He designed a doll that interacts with the
"Galidor" TV show, or with other dolls of its kind.
Placed up to a few meters away from a TV, the dolls
occasionally blurt out comments, seemingly reacting with
perfect timing to the TV characters' exclamations or
other events on the screen. It's all done with a simple
but powerful acoustic communications system of
Kierstein's conception.
Basically, the show's soundtrack sends out acoustic
signals that trigger any one of 227 prerecorded
utterances in the doll, or 85 simple animations that
play on a small LCD screen on the toy figure's back.
Viewers of the show don't notice the signals, an
extremely faint chirping, because Kierstein's system
masks them in other noises in the show's soundtrack and
also exploits psychoacoustic quirks in human hearing.
The ingeniousness of the system is in that masking,
and also in the fact that by relying on simple
electronic components and very clever design,
Kierstein's team held the cost of the entire acoustic
receiving system in each doll below 7 Danish kroner, or
about US $1.
For Kierstein, the project was a whirlwind
introduction to the world of big-time toy making.
Several months into the project, he had to fly to
California for some meetings with the producers of
"Galidor." "I had just started at Lego, and suddenly I'm
standing on Santa Monica Beach, talking to Hollywood
producers. Who could imagine that?"
The action figure, called the Galidor Kek Powerizer,
was well received by its target audience of six- to
eight-year-old boys. But the TV show wasn't a big hit,
and the doll is already hard to find in stores.
Nevertheless, the acoustic communications system will
show up in future toys, Kierstein hints.
Best of all, though, as far as Kierstein is concerned,
the toy made some children happy. Of all the possible
confirmations of a new toy's worth, the best one for him
is "looking at children's faces when they see something
surprising and they think it's magic."