UNM ART MUSE/ZINE
RESPONSES TO HINDSIGHT INSIGHT 5.0
The UNM Art Museum (UNMAM) Student Advisory Council (SAC) is a volunteer group of students from across the University of New Mexico dedicated to promoting an inclusive, accessible, and welcoming UNM Art Museum space for all University members. Throughout the Fall of 2024, SAC developed an exciting mix of creative research projects from artist interviews; to research in BioArt and artificial intelligence; to the re-creation of a 19th-century typeface and more.
SAC’s second edition of the UNM ART MUSE/ZINE responds to UNMAM’s exhibition Hindsight Insight 5.0, the final installment of a hybrid project and exhibition space. Hindsight Insight 5.0 imagines the galleries as a laboratory, demonstrating how research and experimentation are put into action through projects at the intersection of art and science. This publication documents student responses to the exhibition that exist outside of the museum’s institutional and curatorial voice.
We hope you enjoy reading this zine as much as we’ve enjoyed creating it!
Joseph McKee
UNMAM Coordinator of Student Engagement & Technology
Hannah Cerne is pursuing an MA in Museum Studies and an MA in Art History. She is a Graduate Research Assistant and Study Room Assistant at the UNM Art Museum and an intern at the Tamarind Institute. She is also a cartoonist for the Daily Lobo, an independent newspaper at UNM. Hannah is a member of the UNM Galleries, Libraries, Archives, and Museums (GLAM) Club and the UNMAM Student Advisory Council (SAC).
Innaturalis, pg . 3-5
Armelle Richard (she/her), a creative art enthusiast, embarked on her academic journey by earning undergraduate degrees in French Language/Culture and Photography from Pennsylvania State University. She recently achieved her MA in Instructional Design & Technology, along with a Professional Development Graduate Certificate in Museum Studies from the University of New Mexico. Armelle was born in France and lives in Albuquerque, NM with her husband, two children, and two cats.
Sorrel Tran (they/them) is a pizzaloving plant dad working as a post-doctoral fellow in the Biology department at the University of Mexico studying the relationship between cynipid galling wasps and live oak trees. Their undergraduate degree is in Biology from UNC-Chapel Hill and they graduated with their PhD in Plant Pathology from the University of Georgia. Originally from North Carolina, they recently moved to Albuquerque with their partner, Emily, and their cat, Fried Rice.
IDRIS PARKER
. 68
Portrait of a MortologicalMan ,pg . 91 0
The Southern son of a pastor, Idris Parker is a nobody from nowhere. He moved to faraway New Mexico to study Art and Psychology in search of community. In his work as a visual artist, he illustrates the American experience through the lens of his transgender identity. Heavily influenced by the Southern Gothic, he focuses on themes of death, domesticity, and the grotesque.
S HANNON ROLLINS
Shannon Rollins is a second-year biology graduate student. She studies wasp venom and its physiologic effects on host insects and is also interested in wasp taxonomy and galling insects.
Carla Gilfillan is researching local art history and training in art history research at UNM. Her research seeks to disrupt the colonial gaze on art by interpreting Indigenous art through community members’ perspectives and ways of knowing. She acknowledges the unceded and occupied Tewa land she lives on, in what is now called Santa Fe, NM— land still stewarded by Tewa people.
,pg . 1314
MORGAN
LEANOR Transmittance
On the cusp of finishing her Bachelor’s in English, Morgan Leanor is a writer preoccupied with themes of grief as well as the hope and loss in between. She occupies herself in all genres, but predominantly poetry. When not writing, she can be found diving into fantasy worlds, hopping between local coffee shops, or racing her friends in the daily wordle.
DESIGN
,pg . 1112
DESIGN BRE KAPPEL
About the Type, pg . 15-16
Bre Kappel is an educator, science communicator, and undergraduate student at UNM (class of ‘25). Kappel has worked at UNM’s Museum of Southwestern Biology and UNMAM, leading outreach initiatives and assisting with exhibit design and construction. Kappel is inspired by the power of objects as catalysts for learning, storytelling, and connecting. Their critical study of the long history of collections-building and exhibitions is in pursuit of a better and more equitable future for museums and similar institutions.
Discussing “The Drop” with Andrea Polli
Hannah Cerne
Hannah Cerne: What was your inspiration for your work of art titled, The Drop?
Andrea Polli: Visually, The Drop idea comes from a poem about the universe and a grain of sand by William Blake. The poem is titled ‘To See a World in a Grain of Sand.’ I was thinking about a single drop of water and how it could be formed. I also pulled inspiration from Harold Eugene Edgerton’s photographs, who is an artist in the UNM Art Museum collection...Mary Statzer, the Curator of Prints and Photographs, and I talked about including [Edgerton] in the Hindsight Insight 5.0 exhibition, but we decided to just go with the nineteenth-century album
Andrea Polli is a Professor and Director of the University of New Mexico (UNM) STEAM and a Mesa Del Sol Endowed Chair in Digital Media. Polli is also a practicing artist who has spent over 30 years focusing on computer programming, collaborating with scientists and other specialists, visualizing invisible patterns, and many other junctions of art, biology, and science. Polli received a Master of Fine Arts in Time Arts from the Art Institute of Chicago and a PhD in Computing, Communications, and Electronics from the University of Plymouth in the United Kingdom. Polli collaborated on Hindsight Insight 5.0 at the UNM Art Museum. Her works in the exhibition display her in-depth approach to sound, mapping of form, and the intersection between art and science. I spoke with Andrea Polli about The Drop, a piece in Hindsight Insight 5.0. I asked her about the process of creating the piece and questioned her about any obstacles in her path.
Andrea Polli, TheDrop, in Hindsight Insight 5.0 at the University of New Mexico Art Museum. Photograph by Stefan Jennings Batista.
of microscopic photographs. One of the innovations that Edgerton did was fast stroboscopic photography, seeing something in motion, like a drop falling, and seeing the shape that is normally moving so fast that you cannot see it. It is another kind of unusual shape that is being revealed through technology. So, I was interested in taking a single drop and then mapping sound onto the surface of the drop.”
HC: What was the process of creating The Drop, displayed in Hindsight Insight 5.0? Did you encounter any obstacles?
AP: The first foray of this was what I did with Promesson (2024), the three bowls included in the exhibition along with The Drop. I had the opportunity to take a sabbatical in the fall of 2023, and throughout part of that, I took a residency in Portugal. I had the opportunity to deep dive and decide how I wanted to evolve my practice. I knew that I wanted to work on these new forms and shapes. I went back to sound; I tend to do that because sound is a place of origin for me. I thought I would record soundscapes in Portugal and then I would make a two-dimensional sound spectrograph, which is more complex than the standard sound wave you see when you edit sound on a video on your phone. But most sound editing programs have a spectrograph view, and they can be in full color or black and white. The spectrographs show you a mapping of frequency, loudness, or amplitude over time as a two-dimensional drawing. So, I thought, well what if the twodimensional drawing is mapped into a threedimensional form, so I started working with a 3-D animator and started doing things that ended up being the Promesson. The source of those sounds, the bells you hear, are from the church that was right next to the housing for the artist residents in a very small village. The church bells would go off every half hour, all night long and it was kind of nice, it was a beautiful marking of time. The bells have these wonderful harmonics, and they create these, well think of Edgerton again, you drop a pebble in some water and get these reverberations, the harmonics kind of look like that in a two-dimensional spectrogram. To
map those, you get these beautiful shapes, that are also 3-D printed in the rubber you see on the wall as you walk into the space where The Drop is installed. So that process led to the process of a beautifully rendered water droplet. I then took stills of those images, and 3-D printed them like the rubber pieces previously mentioned. I then made the mold out of plaster and blew glass into the plaster mold.
HC: Interesting, are there any other works in Hindsight Insight 5.0 that follow a similar process?
AP: The piece I did with Fiona Bell, Spectrospira, was also blown glass into a mold. One of my thoughts with The Drop was, what if you could walk into one of those microscopic images? What would that experience be like?
Artist Statement: The background for this piece, Finding Peace in the UNM Art Museum, is a visual graphic created in response to my experience and discussion of The Drop (2024) with Andrea Polli.
In Finding Peace in the UNM Art Museum, I tried to visualize the peace I felt when standing in front of Andrea Polli’s The Drop (2024). When discussing The Drop with Polli I explained to her my fascination with her work and the experience of being in a protective bubble when standing before the artwork. I told her, “It is as if the world around me has stopped, and all that matters is the array of light and shape in front of me.”
To read the full interview between Hannah Cerne and Andrea Polli scan the QR code below, or visit: https://artmuseum.unm.edu/ interview-andrea-polli/
Innaturalis
Armelle Richard
The art series Innaturalis reflects a deliberate practice of “slow looking” that parallels the concept of slowing down—a principle I explored in my Master’s capstone and in my study of the exhibition Hindsight Insight 5.0. The exhibition imagined “the galleries as a laboratory, demonstrating how research and experimentation are put into action through projects at the intersection of art and science.”¹ In the scientific world, collecting specimens allows for closer examination and deeper understanding. The word “specimen” itself, derived from the Latin word specere, meaning “to look,” reinforces the idea of taking time to observe the world more carefully.²
This semester I focused on fitness routines such as weightlifting and hiking. To stay motivated and committed, I integrated “plogging” (a portmanteau of picking up trash while jogging), a Swedish-origin activity combining an environmental cleanup with exercise to gather the materials used in Innaturalis.³ This activity provides a counterpoint to our constant, fast-moving, and consumer-driven culture by offering an opportunity to take a moment, pause, observe, take a longer look, and begin to critically reflect on what is happening in the environment while also contributing to its preservation.
The inspiration for Innaturalis draws from various sources from the exhibition including a nineteenth-century album of microscopic photographs, Microphotographs Presented to the Royal Institute of Chemistry by Henry Droop Richmond (c. 1877-1883), and the exhibition work Biomaterial Samples by Fiona Bell, Kaitlin Bryson, and UNM students. These works informed my own exploration of how data can be visually collaged to make a statement.
In Innaturalis, each collage is named according to the date of the hike, the number of steps taken, and the longitude and latitude of the trailhead. The found items or specimens used to create these collages are first separated into petri dishes categorized by material: paper, metal, glass, rigid plastic, film plastic, and miscellaneous. The found items are then placed in a free-form collage that starts with a piece of trash that is directly associated with the natural world (e.g. image of flowers printed on a plastic tab) and flows toward an item that has text, often ironic or telling, about the prevalence of unnatural items found in nature (e.g. “Vibrant Life” printed on a plastic bag). The process of slow observation and careful cataloging of these materials mirrors the attention we must pay to preserving our planet. This shift in perspective aligns with the broader need to reconsider how we navigate our world, especially in the face of climate change. By engaging with nature through both art and physical fitness, we begin to rethink our relationship with the planet, recognizing its intrinsic value, and our role in its care.
1. “Hindsight Insight 5.0,” UNM Art Museum, accessed November 5, 2024. https://artmuseum.unm.edu/exhibition/hindsight-insight-5-0.
2. Definitions from Oxford Languages
3. Lee, Wanyoung, and Yoonso Choi. 2023. “Examining Plogging in South Korea as a New Social Movement: From the Perspective of Claus Offe’s New Social Movement Theory” International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health 20, no. 5: 4469. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph20054469
09.13.2024Coordinates:Steps:7630
09.14.2024
Steps: Coordinates:1200235.1514625549316, -106.552230834960
“If
you can’t make your own,store bought is fine.”
Text by Sorrel Tran, Illustrations by Sorrel Tran and Shannon Rollins
The first time I saw the quote, it was overlaid on a picture of Ina Garten, the “Barefoot Contessa.” Though she originally used it in a cooking context, it’s since been co-opted by mental health advocates to talk about serotonin and other neurotransmitters. For me, as someone with anxiety and depression, it’s a reminder that not being able to produce enough serotonin and dopamine is always on my mind. I take medication to help balance my neurotransmitters, and it keeps me afloat, helping me avoid the spiral of despair.
During a particularly bad period of depression, I found comfort in fountain pens. I’ve always enjoyed handwriting letters and notes, but I believe the tools you use matter as much as the message. With the right paper, the perfect ink, and a gold nib gliding across the page, writing becomes less of a chore and more of a privilege.
After moving to Albuquerque, I found myself in a less severe, though still challenging, period of depression. The adjustment to a new city, limited social connections, a fresh role in an unfamiliar field, and a totally different climate from the high humidity and low elevation I was used to—it all hit hard. Once again, I turned to fountain pens for solace.
In my new job, I research oak galls, the abnormal growths on leaves and stems caused by gall wasps. Through this work, I learned about iron gall ink, a type of ink historically used in official documents for its permanence. Leonardo da Vinci famously made many drawings using this ink. Iron gall ink is made from three main components: iron, tannic acid, and a thickening agent. The tannins needed for iron gall ink can be found in high quantities in oak galls.
The idea of making iron gall ink intrigued me. There’s something beautiful about repurposing something “ugly” and “unwanted” into something purposeful and useful. It gave me a way to feel more connected to my work, my new environment, and even opened doors for new friendships as I shared my growing knowledge of galls and their science.
On my quest to make iron gall ink, I went searching for galls to provide the gallotannic acid for the recipe. It wasn’t easy; galls are seasonal and location-dependent, and I struggled to find enough. While some were available near campus, I had to explore farther to get the quantity I needed. When I considered just buying commercially available iron gall ink, Ina’s words floated back to me: “If you can’t make your own, store bought is fine.”
I’m learning to be kinder to myself. I did manage to make some iron gall ink—though not as much as I’d hoped—and I supplemented with store-bought ink. And that’s okay, because sometimes, “store bought is fine.”
Portrait of a Mortological Man
Idris Parker
Hindsight Insight 5.0 draws new connections between art and biology. Interacting with this exhibit invites us to reflect upon the ways in which science and humanities are already intertwined.
“Biology” is not an unpolitical word. While there are definitely circumstances in which differentiating between transgender and cisgender bodies is necessary, America often fails to recognize that medical and anatomical presentations of queerness are rarely socially relevant. For this reason, the word is often used to distinguish between transgender people and “biological” people. This perpetuates the harmful notion that transgender people are inherently unnatural. Despite being made of the same blood, same bone, same flesh as everyone else, I am not BIO -, I am not OFLIFE If I am not OF LIFE, I must be OF DEATH
The beautiful thing about death is that it brings along rebirth. A dead deer becomes food for wolves, its bones crushed down into rich soil for the trees. One can choose to grieve the old or celebrate the new. Grieving is the only choice, death is immovable, change is a promise. Whether this piece is about cisgender grief or transgender joy is your choice.
Portrait of a Mortological Man is the debut of one of my symbolic figures, named after the protagonist in Le Roman De Silence by Heldris of Cornwall. Silence is a human body wearing the skull of any species with antlers or horns. He exists in stages. Beginning as an empty husk with his antlers hacksawed down to a nub, he represents a state of being in which a person is unable to be themselves but is too exhausted to pretend to be anyone else. His stages of being are characterized by differing levels of antler maturation and the presence of other organisms. Using nutrient cycling as a metaphor for change, his old bones house LICHEN and various bugs in his pores as he grows. Covered in VELVET and DIRT , the death of his old self is overshadowed by new life as he grows further and further from the shell he used to be.
What is a Cyanotype?
Cyanotype is a photographic process in which a solution of photosensitive chemicals is painted onto paper. Once dried, the solution will develop in areas that come into contact with ultraviolet rays. This can be done using a UV light or sunlight. Using this process, the photographer can manipulate light and shadow to create inverted images. While cyanotype prints can be bleached and toned into different colors, it naturally prints as a rich sky blue after being rinsed with water.
I began by drawing the image of Silence and rendering it digitally. Once this was completed, I printed out this image onto transparency film so the image would leave the desired shadows. With the help of Morgan Leanor, we used a masking technique that separated the foreground from the background of the drawing. This meant that we could print different parts of the image at different times, thus giving us different exposures and varying effects.
The background of the piece is a mixture of nearby shadows of grass, dirt, leaves, and sugar. The sun changed while we were exposing the background, leaving a ghostly look to the moving shadows. After exposure, we washed the chemicals from the paper, using hydrogen peroxide to speed up the oxidation process. Lastly, I used a willow charcoal pencil to clarify some of the details in the image.
Transmittance
In collaboration with Idris Parker, I learned of a rich history of cyanotype, dipped in the iconic blues that created the backdrop of my poem. This piece lives and breathes in conversation with Parker’s PortraitofaMortologicalMan. The cycles of death and rebirth through nature were prominent throughout the process and were at the core of the writing I did. These are not concepts without strife or grief; however, this project has remained one of hope in the unknown and the after of a death of the self in the journey of identity. I wanted to speak to the human experience and the unique intersections between biology, identity and self-expression.
Ebony refractions
Turned rich like the dusk set sky
Stagnant
A STAG
His image emerges
Horns cradle new life
Flesh finds vine
Sprouts
In the light of day
LICHEN, MOSS, MUSHROOM
Scattered and transparent
A parallel of rebirth –For all – cycles of inevitability
Morgan Leanor
Decolonizing ChatGPT
Carla Gilfillan
The HindsightInsight5.0 exhibition at UNM Art Museum is centered on BioArt, encouraging us to ask what it means to be alive. How does technology complicate our relationship with our own aliveness as humans and the aliveness of other plant, animal, and elemental beings?
One way technology is transforming our lived experiences is through artificial intelligence (AI) language models. As the academic world grapples with the impacts of AI and their use by students as a primary source, we must ask: what are the fundamental differences between what a human creates and what an AI language model like ChatGPT creates? What ethical concerns arise when we use AI as a tool, delegating our work to it?
As an art history student, I wondered what ChatGPT would produce when asked to conduct an art historical analysis. As visual or material culture, we use art to express the deepest, most sacred parts of ourselves; it conveys ideas beyond what spoken language alone can. What are ChatGPT’s limitations when analyzing something so personal, subjective, and specific to the human experience as art?
For this experiment, I used both ChatGPT and BioArtAssistant, a GPT model built to assist students in developing projects related to BioArt and the exhibition. To make the experiment as specific as possible, and in hopes of revealing the implications of AI models as they relate to Indigenous sovereignty, I chose a subject related to my own research: Hopi pottery.
I wanted to engage AI on this subject because I view AI as a threat to Indigenous sovereignty. Models like ChatGPT are trained on datasets using predictive algorithms to generate answers based on what word is most likely to come next. There are no regulations allowing a nation to object to the inclusion of their history, culture, or language (especially inaccurate, outdated, and biased information) in these datasets. AI’s widespread popularity means it ultimately perpetuates and disseminates the mainstream colonial narratives used to justify the genocide and assimilation of Indigenous people, undermining Indigenous self-governance and self-determination.
In the case of Hopi pottery, the Hopi Tribal Government, Cultural Preservation Office, and individual villages and artists have no control over what information ChatGPT has been trained on. It’s most likely trained on data written by non-Hopi anthropologists and other white “scientists” whose narratives enforce U.S. government policy and a Western understanding of humanity. While it’s not ChatGPT’s fault that most accessible information on this topic is problematic, neither the model nor its creators can distinguish what is accurate, and it therefore perpetuates interpretations that reflect a hegemonic worldview rooted in colonialism and white supremacy.
ChatGPT claimed Hopi pottery could be interpreted as BioArt, though Indigenous art is not represented in the HindsightInsight5.0 exhibition: “Traditionally made Hopi pottery might be considered as part of BioArt when viewed through a contemporary lens, especially in light of how BioArt engages with life and living processes.” ChatGPT described a “cultural and ecological connection” and said, “The Hopi’s ecological consciousness and their spiritual engagement with life and nature mirror BioArt’s investigation into biological interconnectedness.”
When asked for a positionality statement, ChatGPT said: “My perspective is influenced by the dominant cultural narratives and academic frameworks present in the material I access. I do not possess lived experience, cultural background, or personal identity… While I strive to offer critical insights rooted in established theories and practices, my analysis will inherently reflect the limitations and priorities of the information available to me, which may emphasize Western art historical methodologies and perspectives. Moreover, I acknowledge that discussions about Indigenous art, such as Hopi pottery, require sensitivity to cultural context, heritage, and lived experiences, which I can approach only from an outsider’s perspective.”
This positionality statement seems to insulate AI from critique, as it acknowledges limitations that could lead to inaccuracies based on the limited dataset it was trained on. However, does the admission of its limitations matter when countless students are accepting ChatGPT’s output as objective fact? Does this caveat matter when we assign the same truth value to ChatGPT’s output as we do to lived experience? In their paper “Positionality Statements as a Function of Coloniality: Interrogating Reflexive Ideologies,” Jasmine Gani and Rabea Khan argue that positionality statements can offer “redemption of guilt” for hegemonic researchers. While positionality statements are important to contemporary humanities research, they can also be used to avoid accountability by preemptively deflecting criticism. In the same way, ChatGPT’s disclaimer allows it to perpetuate inaccuracies rooted in racism with impunity. As Gani and Khan argue, positionality statements may reinforce unequal power dynamics between researchers racialized as “white” and those racialized as “people of color.” ChatGPT isn’t necessarily “white,” but by its own admission, it operates within the dominant cultural narrative of its datasets, which are inherently colonial and uphold white supremacy.
ChatGPT’s analysis was indeed problematic. It overemphasized generalized ideas about Indigenous spirituality and romanticized the “rich artistic traditions of the Pueblo peoples,” noticeably adopting anthropological language by referring to “the Pueblo peoples” instead of just “Pueblo people.” ChatGPT was also overly concerned with “sacred motifs” and “ceremonial or ritual uses” of pottery, regardless of which model I used. Anglo researchers and politicians have long portrayed Hopi and other Indigenous people as “pure,” “primitive,” and “closer to nature” in both their fetishization of Indigenous spirituality and its connectedness to nature, as well as their infantilization of Indigenous people as incapable of self-governance. While Hopi pottery does often represent prayers and spiritual ideas connected to nature, ChatGPT’s description cheapens and homogenizes this idea. Most importantly, it offers no insight into actual Hopi perspectives.
AI recycles and reinforces dominant perspectives, logics, and systems of oppression. It is a tool that ultimately upholds white supremacy, colonialism, and imperialism—unless we intervene.
Emerging scholarship is beginning to explore Indigenous data sovereignty. Noelani Arista’s essay “Maoli Intelligence: Indigenous Data Sovereignty and Futurity” discusses how Indigenous concepts of relationality might inform ethics regarding AI use, and how AI models might be trained on Indigenous languages and ways of knowing. But this brings us back to the point that Indigenous nations must first be consulted and included in the conversation. What would it mean to decolonize AI, if that’s even possible? In what ways can AI language models be trained to uphold Indigenous sovereignty rather than undermine it?
About the Type
BRE KAPPEL
Many fonts are used throughout this zine, though text in THIS TYPEFACE was created using DROOP.
DROOP is a typeface I created based on the handwritten specimen labels found in the book MICROPHOTOGRAPHS , PRESENTED TO THE ROYAL INSTITUTE OF CHEMISTRY by H DROOP RICHMOND , held in the collection of the UNIVERSITY OF NEW MEXICO ART MUSEUM and featured in their 2024 exhibition HINDSIGHT INSIGHT 5.0.
Very little is known about this book or HENRY DROOP RICHMOND The book was most likely created in the late 1800’s and came to UNM through the FINE ARTS AND DESIGN LIBRARY that originally lived in the now CLINTON ADAMS GALLERY of the UNM ART MUSEUM When the library was moved, the book was acquired by the museum and recontextualized as an art piece and example of early microphotography.
At first glance, and at the scale that it’s presented, this style of lettering looks so symmetrical and precise that I was almost worried that it was created with a stencil, and that I was chasing a font created over a hundred years ago. Now that I’ve blown up each character to a much bigger scale, then hand traced them, trying to imitate the line weight and artifacts of the tool and hand, I see all the remnants of an individual’s involvement. Now, I’m able to see what I think the typeface was all along — an attempt at disguising handwritten notation as refined and impersonal, as to make it more
professional and acceptable in the context. This act of disembodying the author from the work is a common goal in scientific research and academic publishing. In attempting to remove bias (an impossible task), the person and their experiences are removed as well. Findings are often presented as factual, rather than the result of looking at something from a specific vantage point.
To draw attention to the human effort, bias, and decision-making that goes into scientific research, for good or bad, DROOP is offered as a disruptive typeface, meant to be used when proper nouns and names are included in academic publications. This specific use case is inspired by the script’s origin as specimen labels.
By impeding the process of writing (forcing the author to decide when and where to swap fonts, then manually making the change) and by visually upsetting the rhythm of text for the viewer, I hope that the oftenforgotten people and opinions behind so called “objective” names and processes are brought to attention.
At the very least, I’d like to honor and enliven the hand of a photographer, or microbiologist, or notetaker, or maybe an assistant, that was part of the assembly of this inspirational album so long ago.
DROOP
Overshot and unfinished strokes indicate fast and efficient penmanship.
Fluid line junctions are evident where ink from a fountain pen would have run together.
Slurring, italicized characters lead to running downstrokes, resulting in flattened peaks on characters like M and N.
All stylistic choices come from examination of source material.
Scan to download and experiment with DROOP, or visit: https://artmuseum. unm.edu/exhibition/sac-fall-2024