ART AND SPACE: AN EXHIBITION OTAGO MUSEUM H.D. SKINNER ANNEXE DUNEDIN 16 SEPTEMBER—2 OCTOBER 2016 CATALOGUE
Pam McKinlay, The Big Picture, 2016. Image credit: photograph of nebulae and simulated gravitational waves, Pam McKinlay, 2016 and visible spectrum of hydrogen, Jan Homann, 2009.
Introduction Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited, whereas imagination embraces the entire world, stimulating progress, giving birth to evolution. It is, strictly speaking, a real factor in scientific research. Albert Einstein, 1931 The idea for an Art and Space Project, to follow three previous successful joint-ventures between the Dunedin School of Art at the Otago Polytechnic and the University of Otago, in what is now known as The Science Series, arose when it was announced that the Perpetual Guardian Planetarium at the Otago Museum, the southernmost planetarium in the world, would open on 5 December 2015. This seemed a particularly apt topic to choose as the Otago Museum had already worked as a third participating institution in the Art and Light Project 2014-15. Art and Space would therefore further enhance this significant relationship. The Science Series is a unique institution. A group of artists working in the city of Dunedin, most of whom are staff, students or graduates of the Dunedin School of Art, came together in late November 2015 with a similar number of research scientists at the University of Otago to talk about “art and space.” A principle of the Series is that the artists should not simply illustrate the science. Indeed, as the catalogue makes clear, scientists make a very good job of doing that themselves, both pictorially and diagrammatically. The task of the artists is to familiarise themselves with the research of the scientists, during initial presentations and subsequent discussions, and for “something” creative to emerge from the artists out of
this experience. For both scientists and artists this may at first seem rather woolly or fuzzy, as indeed it is and is meant to be. For many outsiders science seems to be about finding, measuring, describing and labelling. But how do you decide what to try to find? What questions present themselves about us and our world? Many emerge from scientific ideas and research that have come before, others from curiosity, serendipity, intuition, musing—the very same activities of the imagination that mark the creative work of artists. Illustration, representation, depends also on traditions of graphicity upon which the imagination of artists are nurtured, but to extend the boundaries of those traditions, to push out into new realms of the imagination is what we have come to expect of both the avant-garde in science and art. It is at first fuzzy, then becomes focussed, then becomes the new norm, in turn to be revised, even cast aside, by fresh efforts of hand and mind. Science colliding with Art makes fuzzies. Any single fuzzy has the potential to become a New Big Idea. In Paris on 6 April 1922 the scientist Albert Einstein and the philosopher Henri Bergson publicly debated the nature of Time. Einstein the physicist seemed to win the day with his mathematical exposition of the theory of relativity. But Bergson made a stout defence of his notions of Duration and Intuition. Bruno Latour commented that we have here an example of the way some scientists deal with philosophy, politics, and art: “What you say might be nice and interesting but it has no cosmological relevance because it only deals with the subjective elements, the lived world, not the real world.” However, over time, many of Bergson’s ideas—and they are only ideas, the use of intuition, of imagination, of thinking outside the square—seem as valuable to the
development of probability and quantum theory as the hypotheses (for such they are) of Einstein. In previous topics tackled in The Science Series the perceived distance between artists and scientists noticeably narrowed over the duration of the projects. Artists learned a lot about science and scientists appreciated the necessary waywardness of the artistic imagination. The public also responded positively to this unusual conjunction. The word “Space” has a wide range of meanings. It is multivalent. As we started off the project with the Planetarium in mind, we naturally looked to Outer Space, the Cosmos. We soon found that though this did indeed fire the minds of some artists and scientists that others were interested in different varieties of “space”—the sound waves that we do not see, the spaces opened up when something previously there disappears. There is also social space, mental space, mythic space. Space, we suddenly realised, is both nothing and everything. When it is found, measured, described and labelled it seems to morph into something else that is equally will-o’-the-wisp. This exhibition covers a range of understandings of “space”—inner, outer and social, among others. The exhibition itself is, of course, art in space, the space of the gallery—but some works are trying to get out, others are both in and out, whilst one or two are already outside lying in wait. Visitors will walk away from the exhibition carrying impressions with them in the space of their memories, as they navigate the space of the city to make their way home under the arc of the heavens, the vast space of our universe. Welcome to space exploration! Peter Stupples, exhibition curator 30 August 2016 All dimensions in the catalogue are in centimetres.
HOLLY AITCHISON and DAVID BILKEY
Holly Aitchison, 2016, In Such a Glen, On Such a Day, watercolour and pencil Holly Aitchison The painting takes its name from Matthew Arnold's 1852 poem, Empedocles on Aetna. Arnold used a classical story to illustrate his own time’s schism between hard science and
Art's need to draw from a broader, less quantifiable palette. While Empedocles implores both sides of the argument to be both broad minded and rational, the young musician Callicles sings that In such a glen, on such a day, On Pelion, on the grassy ground, Chiron, the aged Centaur lay, The young Achilles standing by. Chiron being the mythic age’s expression of the being who holds all of the culture’s secret knowledge, and Achilles the young hero who will take those teachings forth to the arena of politics and war. Callicles is saying that every age has its own measure of the pinnacle of wisdom, though they stand in the same spot seeking similar ends—namely, best practice by the lights of their own ruling gods. Art, in our culture, is older than science, but knowledge has always needed to find many routes to understanding. We have sought to deal with David Bilkey's research in a poetic, sideways fashion, moving, perhaps, between Empedocles’ attitude of doubt and Callicles’ sense of mythic recurrence. Holly Aitchison is an autodidact artist working primarily in oil, graphite and watercolour. This is her third Art and Science collaboration. hollyaitchisonartist@gmail.com
David Bilkey, Place Cells 1
The hippocampus is a structure located bilaterally in the medial temporal lobes of the brain. It is shaped somewhat like an overgrown cashew nut, roughly 7 cm long in adult humans. This little structure is critically engaged in helping us to navigate through environments and also allows us to incorporate “where” into the “what, where and when” of our memories of events. Residing within the hippocampus is a particular type of nerve cell called a “place cell.” These cells fire bursts of activity when you are in one particular location but in other locations they might be completely quiet. Each individual cell, of which there are likely over a million in each hippocampus, have their own preferred region of space so that over the population they are capable of forming a brain-based “map” of the whole environment. The image above, constructed from data from our lab, shows where one particular place cell fires as an animal runs back and forward, left and right, on a rectangular platform. The hotter the colour, the higher the firing rate of the cell. You can see that this cell only fires (reds and yellows) in a
small region of the environment. It is silent (blue) elsewhere. Each of the sub-images shows how the cell fires under some change in condition. On the left hand side of the figure the animal is running in one direction (right to left), and on the other side in the opposite direction. As we move down the figure we can see the effect of tilting the platform from flat at the top to 25 degrees (up on the right) at the bottom. This cell fires most strongly when the animal is running rightwards and uphill. This appears to be one way the brain encodes both movement direction and the slope of the environment. This information would be critical for navigational purposes and is also used to predict future paths through space. Our lab is interested in how these cells work during sleep and wakefulness, how they encode space and memory, and how they are disrupted in brain disorders such as schizophrenia. EMILY BRAIN and DAVID BILKEY
Emily Brain, Hippocampal Astrolabe, 2016, wood, perspex, copper Emily Brain Inspired by the designs of historical navigational tools such
as planispheres & astrolabes, these Hippocampal Astrolabes combine real-world navigation with the topography of imaginary places. When a place cell fires in your brain, it marks a specific “place field,� recognition of where you are in space, either real or virtual reality. These tools allow you to explore the possible places or states of mind that could be associated with a random place cell, a potentially real geographic coordinate, or a virtual internal space. I am an Australia-born Jewellery and Metalsmithing student, currently in my third and final year at the Dunedin School of Art. My work explores relationships between people and everyday objects, using a variety of traditional silversmithing and textile materials and processes.
David Bilkey: Place Cells 2 We record place cells with tiny electrodes that are much thinner than a human hair. However, since place cells are packed tightly together in the hippocampus it can be difficult to discriminate the activity of one cell from its neighbours. For this reason our electrodes are bundled together in groups of four, close enough together so that more than one electrode picks up a signal from any one cell, but far enough apart so that the signal strength will be different at each electrode. We then use the difference in the characteristics of the signals picked up from each electrode to separate each cell from its neighbours. The figure above shows the results of a typical discrimination procedure where different firing characteristic have been converted into a distance measure so that each burst of activity from the cell can be transformed into a location in three-dimensional space (the dots). Groups of dots that cluster together are likely to belong to one particular place cell (the different colours). Once we have this information we can label the cell and determine what particular events cause it to fire. alternativeparallels@gmail.com Professor David Bilkey, Dept. of Psychology, University of Otago
HEREMAAHINA EKETONE and IAN GRIFFIN
Heremaahina Eketone This image I have chosen for the catalogue isn’t part of my exhibition piece but does tie into it. It’s the design that I did for puaka/ Matariki this year. Exhibition work: Ngā Taurapa o te waka o Tama-Rereti
Individual titles: Canvas – Ikarangi Glass – Ipurangi, in collaboration with Jesse-James Pickery Wood carving – Taurapa Medium : glass, wood, canvas and acrylic paint I have always been fascinated by the sky and lately have been somewhat obsessed with the stars and navigation. My framework has been designed into a sail with a taurapa (stern) woven into it that also resembles a hand. The whakaaro is about navigating our way, whether it is through something in particular or life in general. The hand looks at the idea of a fresh start for some, or of tautoko for others. The weaving in particular talks of the idea that we are all woven together and that with the right tools, like our tūpuna, can sail the biggest oceans and can get through anything. There are three different exhibition pieces that can either stand alone or come together to represent the various entities within our universe. Both the canvas and the carving, represent the procession of the equinoxes, where both the north and south poles move in a circular direction, taking 25,992 years to do a full circuit of 360 degrees. The wrapping of the Taurapa around the wood is the continuous changing and moving of the stars, more specifically Te Taurapa o te waka o Tama-rereti, and is a symbol of the precision in navigation and the cyclic nature of Māori. The weaving within both the carving and canvas represents every individual thread that comes together to create our universe, right down to the very carbon atoms that were made inside the stars. The rotation within the canvas and carving are in honour of
indigenous peoples who obviously had an awareness of the stars and placed value on them. Ipurangi The idea is to make the stars accessible to the visually impaired, more specifically to my 94-year-old grandmother who has macular degeneration. Each star within the constellation is represented through different heights. Each height is in relation to the approximate distance the star is from earth. Ten millimetres is equal to one hundred light years. This is a contemporary piece in acknowledgement of the revival of pre-colonial astrological, navigational and meteorological sciences, and knowledge of Māori (specifically Tūhoe), which has been brought to light by Associate Professor Dr Rangi Matāmua The sculpture of the constellation is a snapshot in time. Within the next seventy-two years the constellation will not look exactly like this, but it does if you go out and look at the stars tonight. The sculpture was first made out of clay. We stand on the earth to transpose the stars into an accessible medium. It was then cast into recycled glass, pointing out the need for sustainable resources in order to heal our environment. I think we have gone too far to just say that we need to “protect the environment.” www.twoa.ac.nz: Heramaahina.Eketone@twoa.ac.nz Ian Griffin It was a delight working with Heremaahina, who is using her talents and creative mind to explore and communicate some fascinating aspects of astronomy, such as stellar distance, temperature and colour.
IAN GRIFFIN
Aurora Australis Panorama: 20:56:28 25/7/2016, photographic print, 12” x 36” on card On 25th July 2016, just after sunset, ionised material which had left the sun a few days earlier began to interact with the Earth’s magnetic field thousands of kilometres to the south of my vantage point at the southern end of Papanui Inlet. For the next few hours an enticing display of the aurora australis captivated my heart, my eyes and my camera as beautiful, dancing, magnetically-confined beams of gas moved across the sky. This composite image, taken with a central time of 20:56:26 is a panorama created by adding 8 separate images taken through an 85mm lens using a Canon 5DSr camera. It’s no wonder that Māori thought mystical forces created the dancing lights; for some iwi the aurora was Tahunui-arangi, “The Great Glowing of the Sky,” the reflection of huge fires ignited by their forebears, signalling to their distant relatives in New Zealand. Ian Griffin is an astrophotographer and aurora chaser based in Portobello. He is also Director of the Otago Museum.
CHRISTINE KELLER see Pam McKinlay MARY MCFARLANE, GUEST ARTIST
Mary McFarlane, The Moon Knows, 2014, 90 x 74, mixed media on mirror plate The mirror works embody different aspects of science, astronomy as subject matter, chemical reactions, ‘'a seemingly magical process of transformation & creation” alluding to the mystery of the Universe. Mary studied at Otago and Canterbury Universities, Otago Polytechnic and RMIT, Melbourne. She has exhibited work in public and dealer galleries since the 1990’s. Currently showing an installation Room Temperature, at Eastern Southland Gallery, Gore.
SARAH MCKAY and CHRISTINA HULBE
Sarah McKay, Contained, mixed media, glass, light, photography. 5 works, approx. 30x30 in surface dimensions but different heights, from 55 to 115 I am working with Professor Christina Hulbe from the Otago University School of Surveying. My work has been inspired by the methods and results of the research she undertakes in Antarctica but also the location. My pieces have been created from the idea of looking into the physical space in Antarctica to find out something about its past to help us anticipate the future through the changes taking place over time. One key thing Christina said that really stuck and inspired my work related to her personal respect not only for Antarctica itself, but also the science and the scientists working there, not only now, but also those who came before, who informed the future, and the scientists of the future who will draw upon current and past research.
This idea of the connectivity of scientific research was highly important and influenced both the choices of materials I used and the way, I hope, that you experience this work. I graduated from the Dunedin School of art in 2015 with a Bachelor of Visual Art (Honours), majoring in Photography and Electronic Arts. I’m predominantly a photographer who also works with moving image and installation, creating large-scale installation works that deconstruct the ideas of a photograph transforming the idea of looking into an experience of looking. My work comes from a fascination with perception, light, space and with how a camera works, and what I can do to it to manipulate both machine and image. I hope to transform photography into a mean of perception so that it is not only an experience of the eyes but of the whole body. sarah.mckay11@yahoo.com Christina Hulbe Earth's polar regions are changing rapidly and understanding both the causes and implications of change have great scientific and social relevance. My interest is in how and why ice sheets change over time. In many cases, there is a mismatch between the relatively short time spans over which people have been observing polar ice and the much longer time scales for processes at work in those systems. so placing contemporary change in the right glaciological context, something that can be helped along using physics-based computational models, is important. On-going projects involve formal uncertainty estimation in model projections of Antarctic ice sheet change, the search for diagnostic patterns in ice sheet change that might be used to infer underlying processes in ways not biased by researcher “intuition,� and fracture mechanics in floating ice. Professor Christina Hulbe, School of Surveying, University. of Otago
PAM MCKINLAY and CHRISTINE KELLER with DAVID HUTCHINSON and IAN GRIFFIN
Christine Keller and Pam McKinlay, 21 cm H SPECTRUM, 2016, 100% cotton, handwoven
Christine Keller and Pam McKinlay Recipe for a Star: The Interstellar Medium and the Supernova Feedback Loop People have been sitting around their campfires and gazing at the night sky for thousands of years. The stars occupy pretty much the same relative position, now as then, but the way in which we view the stars has changed. Where once the stars were considered a sacred repository of knowledge we now ascribe a different set of meanings when we “read” the stars. The holders of knowledge and storytellers have changed. The big questions have been reposed by modern space exploration. Who are we? What is Space? Are we alone? Going about my housework I think about how we seek to control the chaos of our home locale and how this is a microcosm of the universal housework taking place on a grander scale in our galactic backyard. “We are made of space dust” memes, competing with cat gifs on Facebook tell us this, so it must be true! I whizz around the house doing the vacuuming and consider the nature of terrestrial dust, which intellectually I know must once have been cosmic baryonic matter also. Without stars there would be no life. Space is a living entity. Life on our planet is sustained by our star—the sun, Sol, call it what you will—it supplies us with heat to keep our water liquid and provides light energy for photosynthesis (our food and oxygen). Once upon a time all the earthly elements were also forged somewhere out there in space. Space is a living entity. Thousands of years ago our relationship with the macrocosm and microcosm was an intimate personal experience and the stars were our guide. Today we search for a daily reminder, which acknowledges the abstract enormity of space and the humbleness of our existence. Our new talisman should tell a story—present the data with a humble soul, it should be representative of the macrocosm
and personalize in the local (the microcosm). In this search for a new spaciographic iconography we are interrupted by the pragmatics of conquering our own personal chaos and regaining order in our domestic domain—there are dishes to be done and we must step back into the mundane. RECIPE FOR A STAR Ingredients: one ripe old star at close to expiry date. Method: Take star and explode violently. Gather in far flung cosmic dust, add to molecular clouds in near vacuum. Conserve gas reservoir and cool to 10 Kelvin to prevent dissipation. Observe in the 21cm radio frequency to detect ISM. Separate neutral Hydrogen and put aside in balmer series chamber. Shield pooling plasma from differential interference and random colliding radiation. Rotate with gravity for millennia to desired luminosity. Optional: add exo-planets to taste. The inspiration for this work came from the Amazing Universe show written by Ian Griffin, and his Sky Watch column in the Otago Daily Times. Stars are not the only important celestial landmarks in our night sky. Our attention was drawn to the fuzzy patches or nebulae. When magnified these gaseous clouds, revealed the most glorious picturesque formations. Dense regions of the Interstellar medium (ISM), they are composed mainly of hydrogen gas and “cosmic dust” and are the loci of star nurseries. David Hutchinson The hydrogen emission spectrum, illustrated in this work, is light that gives us information about the underlying quantum
world of wave-particle duality. Each spectral line comes from light emitted as an electron drops from one allowed energy orbital about the hydrogen's proton core to another lower level. The allowed energy levels themselves are determined by the wavelength of the electron particle in its orbital. Explaining the spectrum of hydrogen was the first great success of Schrödinger's quantum mechanics. This year marked the opening of the world's southernmost planetarium in a project led by Dr Ian Griffin, Director at the Otago Museum. The Perpetual Guardian Planetarium is a leading-edge facility aimed at inspiring more young people to explore the night skies. The digital dome allows visitors to gain an experience of the wonders of our universe in a 360° immersive theatre. “All of the shows talk about the sky you can see over Otago,” says Otago Museum director Dr Ian Griffin. “We always talk about what you can see this evening, and to my mind that really brings the whole universe down to Earth.” German born New Zealand-based artist Christine Keller holds an MFA from Concordia University (2004) and a Masters equivalent from Gesamthochschule Uni Kassel, Germany. In late 2012 she founded the Dunedin based Weaving Studio Weaving on Hillingdon and in 2015 opened Dunedin's LOOM ROOM where she teaches weaving. Pam McKinlay works at the Dunedin School of Art. She has a Dip HSc (Clothing/Fashion Design and Textile Science) and a BA in Art History from the University of Otago. David Hutchinson is the Director of the Dodd-Walls Centre for Photonic and Quantum Technologies and a Professor of Physics at the University of Otago.
Pam McKinlay, Composite image, photograph from simulated G-wave series and one of the weavings based on series of photographs (monofilament and wool), dimensions variable. Pam McKinlay, David Hutchinson and Terence Scott, There’s a (Black) Hole in my Bucket Dear e-LISA: Experiments in Search of the Perfect G-wave in the Woven Universe When we think of observatories we usually think of high tech facilities with powerful telescopes built on isolated hilltops far from the madding light pollution of modern urban centres. Telescopes are instruments that collect light, like a bucket collects rainwater. They magnify and reflect distant starlight so that they appear closer when viewed
(optically) through an eyepiece. Other telescopes view the universe through radio waves collected in big radio dishes a kind of “radio eye.” The radio waves are then deciphered by radio-astronomers skilled in the arcane field of radio-data analysis. In the search for gravitation waves the observatory takes on yet another shape. The Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory (LIGO) is an instrument/facility built on a multi-kilometre-scale. Designed to detect gravitational waves as predicted by Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity, LIGO uses laser interferometry to measure the minute ripples in spacetime caused by passing gravitational waves in our local solar neighbourhood. It consists of two widely separated interferometers within the United States, which operate in unison to detect gravitational waves. This year, in February, gravitational waves were detected for the first time and the one-hundred-year-old predictions of Einstein were proven! The next step in the search for capturing the perfect gravitational wave is to attempt to make observations of gravitational waves from space. Enter The Evolved Laser Interferometer Space Antenna more commonly called eLISA. This will be the first space-borne gravitational wave observatory. Scientists think of eLISA as a kind of radio-ear. She will also be the most expensive piece of space bling ever to leave earth containing a pair of identical 46 mm gold– platinum cubes at the centrepiece of her detection array. Although we can’t see gravity, we can learn about it from its effects. As in Plato’s cave analogy, we see the “effects” of gravity as a play of shadows and echoes cast by forces that, as for Plato’s prisoners, we cannot see. Gravitational waves are the so-called ripples in the fabric of spacetime. “Gravity IS bent space,” says David Hutchinson. Gravity is the experience of the geometry of the fabric of the universe. Spacetime tells matter how to move; matter tells spacetime how to curve. (John Archibald Wheeler)
In the first response to the project I attempted to photograph simulated gravitational propagation waves in an imagined model of a geometric universe (spacetime) by photographing the effects on a lattice being acted upon by unseen submerged forces in water. This was done in my Backyard Universe Simulated Gravitational-wave Observatory (BUSGWO). Of course space is not water, it is, well, “space.” The negative image of the photographs came close to simulating the effects of smoke injected into an invisible system where one could imagine seeing the slip trails from falling swirling objects, these-trails were only visible at certain vantage points made visible by raking light. Terence felt that that the idea of simulating “ripples” in the fabric of spacetime in a fluid environment was a useful analogy, because ripples in water are called gravity waves— internal waves, which are generated within a fluid medium, at the interface between two media when the force of gravity or buoyancy tries to restore equilibrium. What I describe as slip trails, he thought of in terms of streaklines, a term from fluid dynamics—imaginary lines in a fluid flow that help to better understand the flow. Fluid flow is characterized by a velocity vector field in three-dimensional space, within the framework of continuum mechanics. In the second part of the project I made experimental weavings of the photographs. Both fabrics were woven flat but once the warp tension was released they relaxed into a highly dimpled surface. For one piece I wove in black on monofilament using a freedom weaving technique. The resulting fabric appears flat until back-lit at which point a subtle shading becomes visible, caused by variation in cramming and spacing and controlled manipulation of individual picks during the weaving. In the second weaving piece I wove the negative photographic image using an eccentric tapestry technique to provide a counterpoint (mono on mono inserted with random wool weft) which in raking light effects has dramatic three-dimensional moiré
effect—in places the weave seems to disintegrate and disappear entirely in the valleys. The two pieces are displayed suspended and constrained within a catenary system as a reference to the classical physics at the heart Newton’s mechanistic model of the universe and the shift this intellectual framework underwent with Einstiein’s Theory of General Relativity. Published just over 100 years ago Einstein’s theory made a conceptual breakthrough with regard to the curvature of spacetime and predicted the existence of gravitational waves. Gravitational waves were reported to have been discovered, for the first time, in February of this year. This project began where the Art and Light project left off with conversations about the effect of gravity on light, gravitational lensing, and led very quickly to explanations of Einstein’s theory of General Relativity and the long standing prediction of the existence of gravitational waves.
The relationship can be most simply described to a nonphysicist as: the left hand side tells you how spacetime curves and the right hand side tell you about the mass/energy density in that bit of space, thus this equation says the mass/energy density on the right is causing the spatiotemporal curvature on the left. Gravity is a force, which is a result of changes of length due to spacetime curvature. The shortest distance between two points is not necessarily a straight line, but may be a curve if there is a significant concentration of energy or mass nearby. Dr Terence Scott is a senior teaching fellow in the Physics Dept, University of Otago with a PhD investigating the dynamics of Bose Einstein condensates.
RUTH NAPPER and DAVID BURRITT
Ruth Napper, Carefully into the Future, necklace: fabricated from sterling silver, copper, resin and found objects This necklace is in two parts: a conventional necklace, as worn resting on the chest, that uses a collection of individual components, each with a message, to depict the conflict as to whether germplasm or seeds is the way to ensure the survival of plants in our world, whether on earth or in space. The second part of the necklace covers the back of the wearer, hidden at first, but representing we have to be aware of and in particular what we do not know and are not able to control. Ruth Napper I am a scientist but I also practice as an artist, a craft-jeweller, in my spare time, working primarily with silver and copper. My jewellery is strongly influenced by my desire for people to be inquisitive and talk about science as both are beautiful and wearable but that are about more than just ornamentation. I fabricate objects to symbolise both the processes of scientific method and the knowledge we have. I also use words, often as a scrambled texture of letters, as each word has meaning, historically and into the future, as
well as within the viewer’s context. What seems to be a texture is message to the viewer. I aim that my jewellery holds a story that begins another story and so it goes on, a conversation with a thread of the initial science, reinterpreted and embellished over time. I was fascinated when Dr David Burritt spoke of the storage of plant germplasm in liquid nitrogen for travel into space and for the long-term storage of our current plant material, to secure our future in space. However I was concerned that at the temperature of liquid nitrogen, natural adaptation no longer occurs and as our environment rapidly changes, the plant material will not. Where will we be then? The work exhibited represents the historical importance of seeds in the history of mankind, the wonder of plant adaptation but also the fear that evolution is now too slow. It has been a privilege to talk with David Burritt and I now see that it is not about seeds or germplasm, but about the need for us all to understand and to discuss, so that we can make progress and have a future. AROHA NOVAK and PETER STUPPLES
Aroha Novak, Sold Out, ticket building, Carisbrooke, The Brook Project, 2015 The Carisbrook stadium holds many memories for the public, and the site specific project by Aroha Novak explored the notion of public and private ownership as well
as questioning future uses of this space. A publication, The Brook Project, was funded by Creative New Zealand's Creative Communities Scheme. Print editions are available at Blue Oyster Art Project Space and Dunedin Public Art Gallery and a free online version at http://www.blueoyster.org.nz/assets/OnlinePublications/The-Brook-Project.pdf. Aroha Novak (excerpt from her essay in The Brook Project, 2016) “From its inception, The Brook Project was about looking to the future by acknowledging what has happened in the past and at the same time allowing space for imagination. The most popular ideas recorded in The Brook Books succeeded in becoming an artistic reality at the former Carisbrook site. These were realised as: • •
• • •
Gardens (moveable, and with edible plants, so that they could be used after the temporary installation). Live music and poetry performed at the site to reflect on past memories of the space and to activate it in a new way. A permanent mural located at the site. A new Carisbrook flag as a marker for change. Small, square embroideries; many based on the historical, political and personal histories of the site, with some indicating future prospects.
These works were a small gesture, a starting point for a conversation about public and private ownership and community engagement through a contemporary art installation. The point was to engage the public outside of the white cubed institution of gallery-going audiences. To be fair, the
project opening event attracted gallery-going audiences anyway, but it also included Carisbrook enthusiasts, some Caversham locals, and friends and family. The plan was for the installation works to stay up for eight days, but in the first weekend of its installation, embroideries were destroyed or stolen and gardens were kicked over. The perpetrators might have been late night revellers or perhaps people that didn’t understand or enjoy the work. They were not personal attacks toward the artist, however these attacks on the work still created anxiety for what might happen next and I pulled the installation down four days early. Any engagement is good engagement, right? For this particular project, this “negative feedback” was not a huge surprise given the public nature of the space— however it was still disappointing. The site is, as stated earlier, in a low socio-economic residential area with a high foot traffic thoroughfare and unfortunately the stereotypes placed upon low socio-economic areas always suggest that poor education and welfare equals bad behaviour. This is not a stereotype I agree with, but it opens up a question of how public art projects are perceived in different demographic areas and how temporary public art can exist in a suburban context. In this location no other project had existed in that way, manner or form before, so the arrival of the installation of small flags and gardens could be considered unprecedented, weird, different and “out of context.” Peter Stupples Social space is probably more significant in most people’s lives that the proximate fate of the outer heavens. That space is remote. This space is here—where we live, work and recreate. We do not always pay attention to the space we share with others. It is ubiquitous. We take it for granted. But certain social spaces become have characteristics that bring them to the front of our mind, not necessarily always,
but from time to time, when we find ourselves in or near them—where we may face danger on the streets, when we return to a sandy beach where we played as a child, when we come home from being away. Some social spaces are nodes of experience—railways stations, airports, marking our coming and going, leaving and meeting. Others are designated as invested with a cultural significance, having for some a sacred, a spiritual, a tribal value, a place to remember our affiliations, our shared history—temples, cathedrals, marae, battle grounds, burial places, ancestral markers, sports grounds. Aroha has memorialised Carisbrook for the people of Dunedin, of Otago, of New Zealand, that was developed from a hunting ground, a swamp, into a sports ground for European settlers, where they played cricket and, more significantly, rugby, before the space was abandoned in favour of the new Forsyth Barr Stadium in 2011. Social spaces change their function over time, gain and lose significance. They are born and die. This “death” made more final when all trace of them is removed, so that there is no physical foundation for their continued remembrance. At one time it was unthinkable that they should no longer be there, no longer function as they did—many churches in Russia after their destruction in the 1920s, streets and houses that existed in the bombed cites of Europe or the Middle East, stadiums of the Ancient world, and now Carisbrook, the House of Pain, that meant so much to so many. Now it is the equivalent of a bombed site awaiting transformation into something else, after which the “history” will be archived as memories die. Spaces are named, circumscribed, bounded by their use. We can chart those histories through records, more mistily through myth and legend, but ultimately, as a speck erased, they ultimately belong to a more complex and less understood history—to the history of spacetime.
SUE NOVELL and HOLGER REGENBRECHT
Sue Novell, Alternative Universe 2220, 2016, 75 x 100 cm, acrylic on canvas Sue Novell This work presents a “made up” reality to the viewer through the traditional medium of acrylic paint and brush marks but the source of the image was derived from the application of digital technology to sensory experience. The
viewer stands as if at the interface of a sea/skyscape but glimpses through a mysterious window a strange and different universe vaguely familiar yet unrelated to any actual experience. This painting is a response to research projects in virtual reality in the laboratory of Holger Regenbrecht. A unifying theme I take from these pragmatically diverse projects was the facilitation of sensory experience by digital technology, often towards a practical outcome. These experiences draw on “being in the world� yet could not be had without technology. Visual art also represents the provision of a reality of the senses that would not be possible without the mediation of the artist. Sue Novell lives in Dunedin, New Zealand, where she graduated from Dunedin School of Art with a Master of Fine Arts with distinction in painting in 2009. Since then she has exhibited solo and in group shows in Dunedin, Christchurch and Auckland. In her art practice she explores the synthesis and intertwinement of system and sensation, nature and technology, art and science. For more information view her website: suenovell.com suenovel@me.com
Holger Regenbrecht
Computer-mediated realities, i.e. three-dimensional worlds which can be explored interactively in real-time, aim at, benefit from, and may indeed require the user to feel present in them. To feel present means that the user feels that he/she is part of the mediated environment, accepting it as reality or world. These worlds range from augmented reality, where physical (real) reality is enriched with spatially registered virtual objects, via augmented virtuality, where virtual worlds are enriched with real objects, to virtual reality, where the entire experience happens within an immersive environment, leaving out any signs of physical reality (if possible and desirable). Sue’s work addresses this sense of being in the world, of presence, of reality in her own artistic way. How does one perceive this strange being here and being there in the same but different space? What kind of virtual worlds are we going to create and experience? Where lies the interface between the worlds?
CHARLOTTE PARALLEL and TONY MOORE
Charlotte Parallel XY Domain is a collaboration between Dr. Tony Moore, a senior lecturer in Geographical Information Science at the University of Otago and Dunedin based artist Charlotte Parallel. XY domain references axis, data, code and area. A formal structure used to plot coordinates within a designated area. In this case the area is the block surrounding the H.D. Skinner Annexe. Within the chosen area we have mapped objects and signifiers of electrical networks and systems that are part of our day-to-day visual and operational landscape. Such as a power pole, UHF aerial or an ATM machine. These objects or signals in determined forms, transmit and receive electrical and electromagnetic signals to perform and power operations of our daily lives. Our everyday use of electrical
energy implies a relationship, a field of engagement between one thing and another. Mapping in this way is a kind of energetic forensics that observes and considers the sociophysical environment and its interaction between local signal ecologies. XY domain also requires your body in the space to perform and activate the active forces of a place. On the one hand, to direct attention to how we exist in a continuum of, and specific concentration within, the electromagnetic field through our capacity as a transducer. On the other, where the activation of sound has the potential to relay intersecting and often unseen operations of geo-political, economic, ecological and social infrastructures. XY domain is akin to an aural circuit that implies our interaction with an on-going, invisible and often unheard cross-pollination of electrical and electromagnetic signal. Each sound has been detected in situ using a combination of auditory tools or transducers. Primarily, a solar panel connected to an amplifier to detect and listen to electricity, such as streetlights and ATM interfaces. 50hz, the frequency of our mains power, can be resolved easily when heard on its own, but many sounds, as experienced collaboratively in the space, can build up to coalesce into a more opaque aural channel. This is representative of the common phenomenon of “too many� incoming signals and data. charlotteparallel@gmail.com
Tony Moore
XY Flow: “A distorted map signifying the chaotic nature of spatial flows� It’s actually a distorted road map and so not related thematically to the electrical/data signals of the actual piece. It was chosen for its visual appearance as it also depicts flows. Also I quite liked that the distortions pull the road network into an approximate human head shape, which is ultimately the origin of all these data and signals, either directly or indirectly.
JESSE-JAMES PICKERY and DAVID HUTCHINSON
Jesse-James Rehu Pickery, Standing Wave in Space, 2016, drawing In this work two speakers are placed diametrically opposed producing the same sustained frequency in order to generate an illusion of sound in a standing wave. This was the eventuation of a series of explorations into manifesting the non-material nature of space. Jesse-James Rehu Pickery looks at the world of misplaced pattern concretions, searching for pattern recognition in sound and light, often using earth as a sounding medium. As soon as science is able to observe the non-observable, more value will be given to these phenomena. Jesse is currently studying Ceramics at the Dunedin School of Art. jessejamesrpm@gmail.com David Hutchinson The sound waves from the two speakers move in opposite directions. Where peaks meet the sound is amplified. Where a peak meets a trough the sound is cancelled. These positions are fixed in time—a standing wave. The intensity of the sound varies with the space you are between the speakers.
ESTHER RITTER and RUTH NAPPER
Esther Ritter, Shared, 2016, mixed media on canvas, 115 x 130 Esther Ritter I collaborated with the neuroscientist, Ruth Napper. Ruth’s work focuses on how the brain rewires itself following the loss of neurons during foetal development, a direct consequence of the neurotoxic effects of ethanol. Animals are tested on a range of behavioural tasks to see how brain cell loss impacts on specific functions and if, with extended training, brain function, specifically spatial learning, can occur.
I am a postgraduate student at the Dunedin School of Art completing an Honours Degree. I studied Social Services and trained as counsellor and psychotherapist. My interest in health issues continues to inform my art practice. I investigate and conceptualise from this vantage point. I work against the backdrop of social disadvantages and lack of voice and visibility and a social perception of deficiency. “No safe level of alcohol consumption during any trimester of pregnancy.” The risk is well advertised and women appear to be aware of the risk. Yet a recent study in Auckland shows that “up to 80% of New Zealand women admitted to drinking at some stage during pregnancy.” A large number consume alcohol in the early weeks of the pregnancy before they might know that they are pregnant. In my paintings I am constantly working with conflict between what is evident and how to construct meaning. I don’t want to spell things out too much. You can read a few things like grey for grey matter, fragility, vulnerability and smallness using the colour pink, circles and swirls. Using a predominately abstract style and compositional structure I am thinking about creating contracts and emphasizing the dichotomy and tension between large and small objects, light and dark. I apply brush marks that evoke movement, tension and separation. estyritter@gmail.com
Ruth Napper
Foetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder The focus of my research is the use of an animal model to investigate the effects of prenatal alcohol exposure on foetal brain. Foetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders (FASD) is the term used to characterize the full range of damage that can occur from prenatal alcohol exposure, varying from mild to severe and encompassing a broad array of physical defects and cognitive, behavioural, emotional, and adaptive functioning. FASD is the leading cause of cognitive challenges and mental disability in the Western world. It is non-reversible and is one hundred per cent preventable. In the above image the spherical blue spot marks the remnants of a nucleus from a cell in the brain that has died via apoptosis, as a result of a brief exposure to alcohol during foetal development. This dead cell will be removed by phagocytes, and a space is created between the two normal neurons (nuclei labelled blue and cytoplasm red).
SALLY SHEPHARD and DAVID BURRITT
Sally Shephard, Bane, 2016 bane : noun—something especially poison which causes death. Life for ever dying to be born afresh, for ever young and eager, will presently stand upon this earth as upon a footstool, and stretch out its realm amidst the stars. H.G Wells, The Outline of History, 1920 Mankind is destined to step beyond his earthly bonds just as his ancestors once crawled out of the seas. Colonising new worlds‌the race will survive. Charles Sheldon, National Goals in Space, 1964 If the human species, or indeed any part of the
biosphere, is to continue to survive, it must eventually leave the Earth and colonise space. For the simple fact of the matter is, the planet Earth is doomed‌.Let us follow many environmentalists and regard the earth as Gaia, the mother of all life (which indeed she is ). Gaia, like all mothers, is not immortal. She is going to die. But her line of descent might be immortal‌.Gaia`s children might never die out—provided they move into space. The Earth should be regarded as the womb of life, but one cannot remain in the womb forever. Frank J. Tipler, The Physics of Immortality: Modern Cosmology, God and the Resurrection of the Dead.,1994 sally.look@me.com David J. Burritt
Pine tree shoots regenerating in tissue culture
David Burritt’s research is focussed on answering fundamental questions associated with how eukaryote cells and organisms, mainly plants and seaweeds, survive in stressful environments. Much of his research has applied applications in the Biotechnology, Crop, Food and Biomedical industries. One of David’s research interests is the conservation and long-term preservation of plant germplasm by cryopreservation. Plant germplasm is often refereed to as a “living genetic resource such as seeds or tissue that is maintained for the purpose of plant breeding, propagation or preservation.” Cryopreservation is a technique that involves the storage of germplasm at very low temperatures, often at or near to -196oC, followed by regeneration of plants. The technology is a cost-effective method for the long-term conservation of plant genetic material and is very important for the preservation of many clonally propagated crop plants. It enables the long-term storage of large amounts of genetically diverse plant material in a relatively small space for extended periods of time. Because of this cryopreservation has been proposed to be potential way to store plants for long-duration space travel. david.burritt@otago.ac.nz
JEN SMITH and RACHEL SIZEMEORE
Jen Smith, Lamellar Body. 2016, tracing paper, 3x120x60 Jen Smith A lot of the terms that Rachel uses in her research resonated with me as I find these recurring themes in my artwork— repeated contours, mapping and transparency. Inspired by her words, I have used the medium of tracing paper for my pieces. I’m interested in the journey that is tracked during this process and the comparison to slices of trees. This took me to look at physical journeys, connections and communication between objects. Jen Smith : jen.catherine.smith@gmail.com
Rachel Sizemore
Our exhibit is based on a 2D electron micrograph of a specialised structure found within a brain cell of a rat. This structure is located within a brain cell that produces the neurochemical dopamine, which plays a role in rewardrelated behaviours. This structure of concentric membranes is known as a lamellar body. It produces and stores lipids (fats) in its centre, an important function for this type of the brain cell. Rachel Sizemore: rachel.sizemore@otago.ac.nz
BEN WATKINS
Ben Watkins, Explorations of time and space using sound and radio The work utilizes an area of physical space augmented with overlapping radio frequencies coming from multiple FM radio transmitters. The viewer is armed with a portable FM radio and is able to explore the physical space and create
new acoustic/sonic arrangements of sound dependent on their chosen path through the space. The sounds being broadcast will be recordings of techno-pagan sonic rituals created with a variety of handmade electro acoustic signal generators. The rituals consist of gathering like-minded techno-pagan sonic practitioners and exploring the sounds of the signal generators until the sonic landscape creates a transcendental, phenomenological experience for the performers. The work critiques scientific technological practices and new age neo-pagan occult mysticism by comparing the aesthetic aspects of each to each other. Letswatchthesunrisefromunderthesea