He toi iratanga
In collaboration with the University of Otago, the Dunedin School of Art, and the Otago Museum
Front
All artworks for sale by negotiation with the artist. Please use their contact details at the back of the catalogue.
cover image: Pam McKinlay and Jesse-James Pickery, He puira hirahira (A Special Chromosome), 2017. Muehlenbeckia, muka, three gauges of monofilament, plaster mask.Curated by Peter Stupples
In collaboration with the University of Otago, the Dunedin School of Art, and the Otago Museum
HD Skinner Annex, Otago Museum
in association with the Conference of the Genetics Society of Australasia, 2-6 July 2017
As a system of visual representation, art has had a long history of recording human investigations into the world of nature and, even more broadly, into speculating, even fantasising, about what that world might look like—out there in unseen worlds or in there, in the body, beneath the surface of things. An unsatisfied curiosity is a characteristic of human kind. Leonardo da Vinci is the prime example of the artist/scientist, forever looking and drawing what he or she has seen and, on the foundation of actuality, proceeding to give visual substance to more speculative ideas.
In recent years science/technology has expanded the scope of art’s reach—adding photography and computer-driven applications to the toolbox.
In 2011, Ruth Napper, of the Anatomy Department at the University of Otago, suggested a new initiative: a nine-month project in which artists and scientists of specific disciplines might be encouraged to share ideas and experience, out of which artworks could be created, inspired by that mutual interaction. She joined forces with Peter Stupples at the Dunedin School of Art, and together they organised the first Art/Science Project, Art and Neuroscience November 2012-August 2013, that resulted in an exhibition and catalogue. Since then, each year has seen a new Project with a similar aim. That aim is creative cooperation—not the illustration of scientific research, but the speculative imagery that comes from the mind and hand of the artist in response to a close acquaintance with the actuality of scientific processes and ideas—or even commentary from the left field upon something that scientists take for granted, as part of their unconscious sense of normality and rationality.
The Project for 2017 was self-selected, as the University of Otago is hosting the Genetics Society of Australasia Annual Conference, together with the New Zealand Society for Biochemistry and Molecular Biology.
It is always hoped that not only artists and scientists can gain from this creative association, extending their respective cognitive and visual worlds, but that they can both offer the public, the community in which the artists and scientists work and live, as well as future artists and scientists—young people of today—an opportunity and incentive to look afresh, or anew, into aspects of their own bodies or worlds of enquiry to which they had previously paid little attention.
Peter Stupples and Dr Ruth Napper, 2017
Scientist and Artist(s)
Megan Griffiths - Guest Artist page 5
Ann-Kathrin Schlesselmann and Becky Cameron .................................................. page 6 - 7
Nicola Dennis and Emily Davidson page 8 - 9
Emma Wyeth and Heramaahina Eketone page 10 - 11
Mike Paulin and David Green page 12 - 13
Tyler McInnes and Annemarie Hope-Cross ............................................................ page 14 - 15
Natalie Forsdick and Brigette Kammlein page 16 - 17
Julia Horsfield and Christine Keller / Pam McKinlay page 18 - 19
Natalie Forsdick and Madison Kelly ....................................................................... page 20 - 21
Adam Rance and Victoria McIntosh page 22 - 23
Julia Horsfield and Pam McKinlay / Jesse-James Pickery page 24 - 25
Mackenzie Lovegrove and Brittany Sue Mason page 26 - 27
Iain Lamont and Sue Nunn ..................................................................................... page 28 - 29
Amy Dowdle and Jo St Baker page 30 - 31
Denise Martini and Eric Schusser page 32 - 33
David Hutchinson and Chanel Taylor ...................................................................... page 34 - 35
Padmini Parsatharathy and Josephine Waring page 36 - 37
Who am I? is an art work exploring the inexorable decline of memory and abilities of people facing dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. While this project is personal for me, it reaches out to a wider audience, many of whom will know someone with one of these conditions. I saw the jigsaw as both a metaphor of declining recognition, but also the actuality of physically being unable to put a jigsaw together as dementia increases.
This piece is made out of five identical but separate jigsaw puzzles, made from woven synthetic fabric,
glued to acrylic and laser cut into pieces. Each puzzle was assembled separately, and rearranged to get the progressive fragmentation, then joined together into one large puzzle. There are a total of 1235 separate puzzle pieces. The cause of late onset Alzheimer’s Disease is not yet well understood, as it is likely a combination of genetic, environmental, and lifestyle factors that affect a person’s risk for developing the disease. Ongoing work at molecular level hopes to unravel the mechanisms of this disease.
Black-fronted terns, tara pirohe, are as unique to New Zealand as the more famous counterparts like kiwi or kea. Their breeding plumage is a beautiful black cap contrasted by the slate grey body and bright orange bill and feet. In spring time, they come to the braided rivers of the South Island to form breeding colonies on the bare gravel bars, while the remainder of the year they live on the coast.
Unfortunately, terns are in decline and are currently classified as Endangered. Their habitat is under threat due to water abstraction and invasive weeds, and black-fronted terns have low breeding success due to introduced and increasing number of native predators. To be able to reverse that decline, it is vital to understand how breeding colonies relate to each other, and at what scale and location management projects should be planned.
Genetics allows us to do this in a fast and easy way. Only a small blood sample is required to extract DNA compared to traditional methods of marking and following individuals extensively. Having caught and taken blood samples of 589 birds in 31 colonies, I use different genetic markers back in the lab to analyse the DNA samples for their genetic diversity and to assess differences between the breeding colonies. In this way, broad geographic differences as well as on a smaller scale, sourceand-sink populations are identified, which leads to direct management recommendations. Genetics is of increasing importance in many different aspects of conservation biology, as it hugely aids our understanding of otherwise unseen processes.
a delicate balance
“
When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe”
John MuirBlack-fronted terns, tara pirohe, are part of the unique braided river ecosystems of the South Island where they breed and feed. However, the balance of this delicate and complex web is being altered and tern numbers are in decline.
Water levels are dropping due to irrigation and hydroelectric, altering the patterns of channels and islands, and making it easier for weeds and introduced predators to invade. Meanwhile, changes in land use alongside the rivers have benefitted avian predators such as the blackbacked gull; one of which was caught by a motion sensitive camera swallowing down eggs and chicks,
and wiping out a whole colony of terns.
Ann’s genetic research into tern populations is starting to reveal how closely linked the birds of the different river systems are – and this connectivity is a potential strength to help with their future survival.
In creating a hanging mobile in response to Ann’s research, I wanted to reflect their interconnectivity, and also their fragility and vulnerability. In the work presented here, a flock of fragile paper terns hang in an uneasy and shifting balance with a single black-backed gull. The terns are arranged to reflect the shape of the genetic family tree that Ann’s research is revealing, and move in the slight breeze created as viewers pass by, showing their vulnerability to human actions.
My work involves building mathematical models. That statement is much akin to an artist announcing that they “do art”. Nearly all scientists use mathematical models in one form or another.
In general, science results in the generation of meaningful numbers (i.e., doing this increases the chances of this other thing happening by X%), that explain a tiny piece of the world around us. These numbers are then stored in science journals much like art in a gallery. On their own, these numbers are useful to a small number of people who dedicate their time to that particular question about the world. But collectively these numbers can do more. And that is my job. I collect these numbers and use them to build simulation models.
I primarily focus on agriculture, so genetics is a very important part of stimulating changes that can be made to the industry. Breeding better animals is one of the “tools in the box” for making permanent and compounding changes to agriculture, whether the aim is to reduce environmental impact, improve animal welfare, or increase productivity. It is a simple concept: find the best animals and breed them together to improve the industry. However, identifying which animals are the best is anything but simple – imagine you had to name the best artist of the century or even the best restaurant in town. There are a LOT of different ways that one animal can be better than another and therefore there is a lot numbers and maths involved!
Data interpretation as a bridge between art and science.
Coming into this project, I basically had little to no understanding of how genetics actually works; sure, I had heard of Mendel, Darwin, and a few other bits of trivia, but essentially I knew nothing.
Now, after several months, I am happy to say that I know twice as much as before, which is to say... still nothing. I have started to work out a few bits of background information though.
One of the things I worked out quite quickly is that much of the information and data which I have come across is really a matter of interpretation rather than some sort of a concrete description. In many ways, genetics has common ground with art in that it is reliant on description, interpolation, interpretation, and even metaphor for operational descriptions.
To this end, we have been working on a project which translates information between different forms and which operates by means of ‘breeding’ data and seeing what comes of it.
Emma Wyeth (Ngāi Tahu, Te Ātiawa, Ngāti Tama, Ngāti Mutunga) is a Senior Lecturer – Māori Health and Director – Ngāi Tahu Māori Health Research Unit, both in the Department of Preventive and Social Medicine at the University of Otago.
While Dr Wyeth now teaches and conducts research into Māori Public Health, her undergraduate and post-graduate studies were in genetics. Her PhD included the investigation of the genetics of rheumatoid arthritis and gout for Māori, but also focused on Māori views of science,
specifically including genetic research. She has also explored her whānau history of creating and embracing new knowledge and technologies, similar to her journey during her PhD.
Upon completing her PhD, Emma decided that her preference was for a career intimately connected to Māori health, and not within the explicit genetics field. As such, she made the move into public health, where she works to ensure that improved health experiences and outcomes for Māori are achieved.
The inspiration for this piece came when the methods used in acquiring genetic information were discussed with me by Dr Emma Wyeth. I learnt that often the people who were involved in genetic studies can be treated as no more than a string of genetic information. This brought a number of questions to mind: does science have room for principles such as tikanga, aahurutanga, kaitiakitanga, and manaakitanga? Would the information gained by a more holistic method of study produce a result closer to the reality we are faced with? And is our current method of genetic research outated or undermining itself in relation to Māori health?
I feel strongly that a study which takes into account the effect of a person’s environment would not only give more meaningful results, but would also be a way to reduce the possible dehumanising
effect of any scientific study centred around human beings.
This design will be a response to a reductive process of genetic studies involving Māori participants.
I will present the double helix as seen from above using Māori symbology from no other angles; this is to critique how much information could be missing by only looking at things from one perspective - reductive genetic analysis.
The mediums were chosen to represent the colliding worlds of western and Te Ao Māori, and the dominance one can have over the other. I will use black ink on flax paper to illustrate my perception of cultural hegemony. A process, though not overt, is constantly present.
A century ago this year, Darcy Thompson wrote On Growth and Form. Nobel prizewinner, Sir Peter Medawar, described this as the greatest work of scientific literature in the English language. Thompson’s point was that organisms are constructed from a small set of structural motifs that emerge spontaneously in fluids and soft materials. Unfortunately for the science of developmental mechanics, while Thompson was writing his book in Dundee, Thomas Hunt Morgan was discovering genes in New York. Morgan’s experiments on fruit flies indicated that body parts are specified by discrete instructions “laid out like beads on a string”. It would be another 40 years before Crick and Watson, inspired by the parable of the beads, identified the “string” as DNA. In the meantime, developmental mechanics stalled because the mathematical models were conceptually difficult and unsolvable at that time, while the idea that any problem in biology could be reduced to the problem of finding a gene for it sparked an orgy of scientific productivity. Now armed with automated sequencing machines and
supercomputers, we can simulate the molecular networks that operate during the development of whole organisms. This is such a spectacular achievement that we may be forgiven for not noticing, or at least not mentioning, that it does not explain how morphology arises during development. At the start of the 21st century, mathematics and numerical computer simulations have become capable of extracting developmental mechanics from the blind alley that it entered a century ago. Unfortunately, three-dimensional pattern formation in expanding soft matter and fluids remains a conceptually and technically very difficult problem, while the same technological advances in algorithms and computing facilitate simple and highly productive ways to add epicycles to strings of beads. While scientists aim for productivity, will the science of growth and form spend another century in the doldrums?
Reference: Paulin, M.G. (2014). Pattern Formation and Animal Morphogenesis. Springer Handbook of BioNeuroinformatics, pp 73-92.
I captured caustics (refracted sunlight) and shadows generated by the play of sun and wind on a shallow pool of water in the Rakaia Gorge.
By compressing and recombining images of these complex waveforms, an evolving flow of bilaterian animal shapes seems to emerge from background noise.
“...look into the stains of walls, or ashes of a fire, or clouds, or mud or like places, in which, if you consider them well, you may find really marvellous ideas. The mind of the painter is stimulated to new discoveries, the composition of battles of animals and men, various compositions of landscapes and monstrous things, such as devils and similar things...”
Da Vinci, L. (1952). The Notebooks of Leonardo Da Vinci. Edited by Irma Anne Richter, Oxford University Press, pp 173-174.
I’m profiling DNA methylation in colon cancer, and comparing it to the DNA methylation profiles of healthy tissue. DNA methylation works like a padlock – it shuts down a piece of DNA and makes sure that it cannot be read or activated.
We want to know where methylation is found in colon cancer and what role it might be playing in the cancer process. What I’m seeing is that DNA methylation is found in genes involved in development and something we call cell fate commitment. Cell fate commitment is all about the transition from a generalist cell to a specialised cell with a very particular role in the body. In cancer,
methylation appears to be locking off the genes involved in this process, and without the necessary instructions to become specialised, cells are kind of stuck. All they can do is multiply and multiply, and that’s what cancer is: a group of cells with no function, which grow aggressively until they kill or are killed.
But there is hope. This methylation I’m talking about? There’s a chance we can detect it in the blood of a person who has cancer. Imagine that. A simple blood test to detect cancer, getting people on to treatment earlier and giving them a fighting chance. This is the potential of my project.
Like DNA, music is a set of instructions. How fast or slow to play an instrument, which notes to play, and how loudly or softly, and when to stop. I have used this analogy to reinterpret the work Tyler is doing.
In a cell, everything is happening at breakneck speed, so the music chosen is The Gadfly Suite, Opus 97a: III National Holiday (Spanish Dance) by Shostakovich. It’s an extremely fast paced, optimistic piece of music with, importantly, a sense of hope.
At the top of the artwork is a series of ‘rests’ - that is, instructions to the musician to stop playing. This represents, for me, DNA methylation, which in colon cancer, shuts down (stops) a piece of DNA.
The two panels on either side of the artwork represent the Illumina methylation array which Tyler uses to measure DNA methylation, whereby beads glow when matched up to its specific piece of DNA.
The central panel, with strands of DNA in the background, has an archway representing a colon –a passageway in the body. And the central ‘flower’ is blood red, but also perhaps a cross section of the colon itself.
The bottom panel could be understood, by someone who reads music, to be for a solo clarinet, playing the prominent melody line of The Spanish Dance music. No rests or stops now, the music flows at a fast rate and with hope.
Accurate information is essential for species conservation, allowing appropriate decisionmaking not just to prevent extinctions, but to ensure species recovery. The Kakī (Black Stilt) is considered to be the world’s rarest wading bird, and had declined to around 23 birds in 1981.
Since the establishment of the Kakī Recovery Programme, cutting-edge genetic techniques have been employed in combination with ecological data to inform conservation actions, resulting in the population increasing to almost 100 wild adults today. The focus of these genetic studies has been to confirm the genetic integrity of the Kakī, which has extensively hybridised with the Poaka (Pied Stilt), and to allow the identification of appropriate breeding pairs for the captive breeding for release programme.
In continuation of the use of the latest techniques, recent advances in DNA sequencing technology now facilitate sequencing of the complete genome of the Kakī, which can provide much greater data that can deliver greater confidence in results, and more fine-scale management decisions. By comparing genetic and genomic data, we can determine what is required for best practice for conservation management.
This data will also provide further information associated with the evolutionary history of the Kakī and its functional adaptations to its current ecological niche. In this collaboration, we explore the types of data that may be generated, in relationship with the ecology of the Kakī.
Kakī are black, long-legged members of the avocet and stilt family, they have black bills, crimson legs and because they are so few, they hybridise with the pied stilt.
There have been lots of them in the past but there are now so few of them left they have become individuals each with their own recognisable code of coloured leg bands.
Soon we will know their own genetic code. Better information on their genome is needed to bring them back from the edge of extinction. Habitat destruction and modification, hybridisation, and predation, all stack up against the Kakī. Today
without the management of DoC and further research, only about 1% off all black stilt eggs laid in the wild would survive to reproduce.
I am fascinated by this information gathering; going into the smallest detail while trying to keep the big picture in mind, trying to identify each individual bird, the interweaving and layering and assembling and combining, and coding of these different types of information–all so that the rare individual birds can become a populating mass again.
Thank you Natalie Forsdick for your information and enthusiasm in this collaboration.
A recently fertilised embryo contains rapidly dividing cells that have the potential to develop into any part of the body. One of life's biggest mysteries is how cells in the early embryo decide what to be. Cohesin proteins are essential for both chromosome duplication and for controlling the expression of specific developmental genes. Cohesin also regulates genes that promote stem cell identity.
Cohesin is a large ring-shaped multi-protein than encircles DNA. In doing so, it can organize loops of DNA in the nucleus. It works much like how a carabiner snaps onto a climbing rope, with the ability to hold different sections of rope (or DNA) together. Multiple loops can be arranged together to form larger clusters of DNA.
The nature of this clustering influences how genes
on the DNA can be accessed by other proteins, including those that switch genes on or off.
The clustering can be measured by looking at the contacts between DNA sections, and this is visualized by a red-and-white ‘heatmap’. Threedimensional models can then be made to observe how the DNA loops in space. The connections that are formed by cohesin provide a vital link between cell division and differentiation, helping to instruct cells what to be.
Dr Julia Horsfield is a developmental geneticist based in the Department of Pathology at the University of Otago. Julia leads a research group investigating the role of chromosome structure in animal development and cancer. Her specific research interest lies in cohesin proteins.
Julia’s research reveals how the cohesin molecule controls DNA packaging within the “noodle soup” of the cell nucleus. The way DNA strands fold control which bits of a chromosome are active, in communication with each other and neighbouring strands, and which bits are not.
We used ikat dye technique to mimic what happens to individual chromosomes in the cell. Twenty three individual warps (our 23 pairs of chromosomes) were carefully looped and marked with red dye in the dye bath. These were folded onto the loom in pairs creating 46 sections. The areas of red marks spaced along the straightened warps then revealed the interactions which had been occurring between the loops.
Genetics is the study of heritability. We are delighted to present our DNA baby blanket. We inherit our genes when we are born and baby blankets are also an item passed down the generations as an heirloom
Christine Keller MFA Concordia University, Montreal (2004), Masters equivalent in Product Design, Gesamthochschule Uni Kassel, Germany (1993). Head of Textile Section at The Dunedin School of Art (2005 – 2010). Christine founded Weaving on Hillingdon (2012) and Dunedin’s LOOM ROOM (2015).
Pam McKinlay has a Dip HSc (Clothing/Fashion Design and Textile Science) and a BA in Art History from the University of Otago.
Thanks also to Valerie Parkes of Honey Lane Studios allowing us weave on Rosalie Sommerville’s loom.
Perceptions of genetics are that lab work is very technical but rapidly produces results, and that the subject is very complex. Being hands-on in the lab is fun, but can involve very long waiting periods for data, which then have to be analysed appropriately to answer specific questions. It’s definitely not like CSI!
The key concept behind much of conservation genetics is fairly simple – that small population size may result in low genetic variation, and consequently, reduced ability of the population to adapt to future change. Consequences of inbreeding, hybridisation, and population isolation all build on this main concept.
The exciting part of being involved in conservation
genetics research is knowing that the information produced can help to generate real conservation outcomes for threatened species. This current project is focussed on the Kakī (Black Stilt), with a population of less than 100 adults restricted to a single location – the Upper Waitaki River Basin in the central South Island. Despite this, it is one of New Zealand’s most accessible threatened species, visible at no cost along the rivers at the foot of Aoraki Mt Cook. This contrasts with many of our threatened species that are only found in wildlife sanctuaries or remote offshore islands. This accessibility provides me with the opportunity to visit the recovery team and take part in releases of juvenile Kakī into the wild, which creates a closer connection and deeper understanding of the species.
Over the course of this project, I have noticed representations of Kakī undergoing various shifts when placed in the context of conservation genetics. In one sense, a geneticist’s perception of the species may experience shifts in scale, with a contained, collective population being reduced to a small selection of individuals. These individuals are further reduced, represented by blood samples, and at their smallest scale, as targeted DNA fragments. At the same time, Kakī endure shifts in state, assuming unique physical identities (as extracted samples), digital identities (as resultant data), and eventually physical forms again (as an accessible population wherein the impact of research can be witnessed first-hand). Such shifts are facilitated across multiple sites–those being the Canterbury-situated habitat and captive breeding facility, and the Otago-situated lab and office spaces.
Charcoal, erasers, and tape are used to embed different representations of Kakī across their respective conservation sites into the gallery wall. Digital photographs and film screenshots are translated into physical moments, with traces of the drawings’ actions–those that might otherwise go obscured or removed–collected and preserved. The drawings are attempts at activating the gallery space as an additional site for manifestations of the complex relationship between geneticist and endangered animal. Shifts between whole and sample, physical and digital, are given space and time for consideration. In equal measure, the drawings are exercises in finding physical analogues for the urgency permeating conservation genetics, as well as the restriction, hybridisation, and impermanence facing the Kakī population.
I am currently a MSc student here at the University of Otago, researching breast cancer.
Genetics is such a fascinating field. It intertwines and shapes the world around us, including disease.
In essence, cancer is a group of cells growing unhindered, over which our body has no control.
I work in the lab lead by Heather Cunliffe, where we look at both breast and ovarian cancer to find a way to help patients outcomes.
BT549 breast cancer cell line grown under standard cell culture conditions (image taken Feb, 2017).
Within my work I have often looked at body image and ideals. Upon entering middle age, I have become even more aware of the gap between expectation and reality – the aging body, the damaged body, the sick body – How is this body seen within our society?
Through this project I meet Adam Rance and his research into breast cancer. Donning gown and gloves, I was fortunate enough to visit his laboratory. A fascinating world where the body is examined on a cellular level.
For this piece, I started with a vintage foundation garment, embellished with traditional quilting and embroidery techniques, as a way of bringing the whole body back into view.
A recently fertilised embryo contains rapidly dividing cells that have the potential to develop into any part of the body. One of life's biggest mysteries is how cells in the early embryo decide what to be. Cohesin proteins are essential for both chromosome duplication and for controlling expression of specific developmental genes. Cohesin also regulates genes that promote stem cell identity.
Cohesin is a large ring-shaped multi-protein than encircles DNA. In doing so, it can organize loops of DNA in the nucleus. It works much like how a carabiner snaps onto a climbing rope, with the ability to hold different sections of rope (or DNA) together. Multiple loops can be arranged together to form larger clusters of DNA.
The nature of this clustering influences how genes
on the DNA can be accessed by other proteins, including those that switch genes on or off.
The clustering can be measured by looking at the contacts between DNA sections, and this is visualized by a red-and-white ‘heatmap’. Threedimensional models can then be made to observe how the DNA loops in space. The connections that are formed by cohesin provide a vital link between cell division and differentiation, helping to instruct cells what to be.
Dr Julia Horsfield is a developmental geneticist based in the Department of Pathology at the University of Otago. Julia leads a research group investigating the role of chromosome structure in animal development and cancer. Her specific research interest lies in cohesin proteins.
Julia Horsfield’s lab looks at the components of DNA strands at a molecular level through the lens of bio-chemical processes. The lab captures molecular data to reveal information about the chromosome’s contours and topological behaviour at the instant of fixation for investigation - noting of course that a chromosome is fluid and dynamic; it flexes and changes as it is constantly transitioning between different states.
We imagined an unfolding chromosome, the unravelling of DNA, bound into a rigid shape, at the moment of stasis - some sections closed in the twist of the double helix and sections with free roaming loops in space and time. Bindings, interstices and flashing between them the fleeting web of cellular communication, the transfer of energy at the speed of light and at the centre an enigmatic signal processor - pungao o te ira.
Our chromosome would in the wild be one of many restless strands layered with the marks of the past, which had crossed thousands of years, carrying the code from the ancestors we can name and beyond to the very beginning of before-time, the void, Te Ao-marama, Te Po, Te Kore. He pūmanawa o nga ira tangata – people live and die but their gifts transcend time.
Another work from Down the Rabbit Hole - the artists explore ideas of creational narratives and explore the possibilities of knowledge through the making of artscience and wordplay.
My PhD project involves trying to understand how honeybees evolved “eusociality” – the social structure where one female reproduces and the others rear her offspring. In a bee hive, the queen lays eggs and produces a pheromone (a chemical cue) that stops all of her daughters from reproducing. This pheromone (queen mandibular pheromone, QMP) is highly specialised, allowing the honeybee social structure, as we know it, to function. Previous work in my lab has shed light on which genes are involved in this process, but what remains unknown is how it has evolved.
In order to study this, I use Drosophila melanogaster, the fruit fly. If a Drosophila female is given QMP, her reproduction is repressed,
similar to what we observe in worker bees. This is astounding, since Drosophila are not social (there is no queen fruit fly), they are never exposed to QMP in nature, and the last common ancestor they shared with bees was ~350 million years ago.
This led us to the theory that there might be conserved genetic mechanisms underpinning this process, and that honeybees have co-opted these during evolution to produce QMP, and their social structure as we know it. My PhD is investigating this, trying to work out whether the genes that control the repression of reproduction are the same in honeybees and fruit flies, and what this can tell us about how honeybees have evolved eusociality.
Honeycomb Jewels, 2017 Bronze cast organic beeswax, Sterling silver, stainless steel, glass Dimensions variable
An ongoing interest in Apiculture has joined art jeweller Brittany Sue Mason and geneticist Mackenzie Lovegrove. Beekeeping has been a topic of my studio practice for some time.
I was intrigued by Mackenzie’s description of the honeybees’ ability to communicate using pheromone messaging, a type of non-verbal message system. As an artist, jewellery can be seen as a form of non-verbal communication on many levels between the maker, the wearer, and the viewer. As the maker, the present issue of the honeybees weighs heavily on my heart; the wearer keeps the matter close to them by wearing the jewellery on their body and engaging potential viewers with the topic as well.
Thanks to a local beekeeper, I was able to source
two brood chambers from his hive. From the frames, thin cross sections were cut and the most aesthetically pleasing honeycombs were selected for bronze casting. The process of making remains obvious through this wearable series. The casting process adds to the preciousness of the forms by reinforcing the structural integrity and lasting permanence of the objects.
The gemstones embellishing the honeycomb structures are repurposed from my grandmother’s costume jewellery. Lastly, each object is then lightly dipped in the natural beeswax extracted from the hive. The final dipping is intended to coat the metal form, slowly warming with the body heat of the wearer to release a subtle scent of the sweet beeswax honey.
Cystic fibrosis is the most common inherited disease in New Zealand. Sufferers have a range of symptoms that are managed with medications, regular physiotherapy and hospitalisation if required.
The lungs develop a thick sticky mucus that can become infected by Pseudomonas aeruginosa bacteria. These infections are difficult to cure, affecting the general health of those with the disease.
We work with Pseudomonas bacteria, isolated from samples from the lungs of patients, grown on a nutrient-containing gel within a petri dish. Our aim is to find out why antibiotics given to people with
Pseudomonas infections do not kill the bacteria and clear the infections, endeavouring to find better ways in which to treat the patients.
The picture below shows seven dishes, each containing a different sample of Pseudomonas bacteria. The bacteria can have different colours –we don’t know exactly what that means!
Check out the cystic fibrosis website (cfnz.org.nz) to learn more about the challenges of living with the disease.
Iain Lamont (Scientist and Pseudomonas researcher)
Seven samples of Pseudomonas bacteria growing in the research lab after being isolated from patients.
In this artwork, I hope to draw a parallel between science and cystic fibrosis sufferers by using a series of words they have provided.
The beauty of the bacteria growing in the lab is in stark contrast to the ugliness of how it manifests itself in cystic fibrosis sufferers.
The coloured backgrounds are taken from the laboratory Pseudomonas bacterial growths, while the choice of blues for the beads is from the New Zealand Cystic Fibrosis Society colours. The quotation has been used in a cystic fibrosis awareness campaign.
The words provide both a positive and a negative
depending on where in the link a person stands. For example, HOPE: there is HOPE for a cure, there is HOPE for finding the right antibiotic, there is HOPE to be able to breathe easily, there is HOPE that the suffering eases, there is HOPE for a future, and there is HOPE for a greater awareness and understanding for the sufferers of this debilitating disease.
From the beginning of life itself, development is directed by maternal factors left in the egg at the time of fertilisation; during this time, the embryo’s own genes remain silent. As development progresses, the embryo awakens and switches on its genetic program. During this transition, the embryo truly comes of age: it begins to shut off the maternal influence as its own genes become active.
Collaborating with Jo has been an invigorating
experience and has allowed me to step away from the microscope and view my project in a poetic light.
We see this “switching on” as an awakening, a blooming, a maturing – as a child grows, or a flower blossoms. Jo has perfectly captured this transition in her work, weaving multiple threads together to create an evocative representation of this fundamental life process.
Scientist Amy Dowdle holds care, humour, and affection towards her research subject. The opportunity to collaborate with her has been a unique experience and a great pleasure. Amy’s studies inspired me to creatively express - through a childlike projected animation and painted backdrop - the turning ON at what is termed the High Stage of a fertilised zebra fish embryo, allowing me to observe such an amazing transitional moment.
This ignition or bursting to movement, at 3.3 hours in development, witnesses the breaking away of independent cells from the mother in an explosion
of colour and life.
Amy and I both interpreted said triggered switch as an analogy for flowering, blossoming, or transforming into an awakened state, likened to that of a child transitioning to adulthood.
The painting All for Love, of the Australian Lantana, is very much like a flowering Hydrangea. Both plants carry personal nostalgic significance to both scientist and artist, whose interpretations of popping corn, big flowering blooms and petrie dish magnifications are hence presented in this installation.
The Kaka is a large forest parrot that is only found in New Zealand. It is an incredible example of New Zealand native fauna and, being found in a vast range of climates, it plays an important role as pollinator in different forest ecosystems. It is also one of the most vocal parrots in the world, with a wide variety of vocalisations that are used for complex and interesting social exchanges between individuals.
Kaka used to be extremely abundant and widespread, but numbers have declined sharply in the past 150 years and there are now fewer than 10,000 individuals across the whole country. It is threatened because of interactions with invasive pest species including stoats, brush-tailed possums, rats and wasps. As such, it is listed as Endangered in the Red List issued by the International Union
for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN). The Department of Conservation has been running recovery programs for this species for over twenty years, with captive breeding and reintroductions in predator-free sanctuaries.
Genetic diversity is an important predictor of the overall health and potential for the lasting survival of a species. Conservation genetics is a branch of biology that investigates genetic diversity in endangered species, in order to make informed decisions when allocating the limited resources usually available for conservation. My project aims at investigating the modern and historical genetic diversity of Kaka across its geographical distribution, in order to support its current and long-term future management.
I was naturally drawn to Denise, the Kaka scientist, as I have rarely in my 36 year teaching career in the outdoors come across Kaka with their beautiful varied bird calls and graceful aerobatics.
As I learnt more about her research into conservation and the endangered status of Kaka in New Zealand, I discovered Denise had travelled from a village near Padova in Italy to complete her PhD in Dunedin - how and why?
I suspected that if I asked the right questions, Denise would give me some very thoughtful and emotive answers and that these words could add to the project and tell an even bigger story than the science behind Kaka DNA and genetics.
I felt a large grid of photos and text would be the best approach. Watching Denise at work, I looked for the links - sampling, equipment, space, detail, colours, products and by-products. Engaging Kaka photographs from an Orokonui visit filled out the scene.
For me as a photographer, it has been a privilege to be accepted into a scientist’s world, to see and hear what they do, and the importance of that work for conservation and for Kaka. I have also been lucky to find a scientist willing to share her thoughts, emotion and aspects of her family and upbringing so honestly as I believe it is that combination of science, emotion and people that can really make a difference to this planet and species.
In 2007, long-lived coherences in exciton transport were observed in the Fenna-Mathews-Olsen (FMO) complex. FMO is a protein complex found in light-harvesting green sulphur bacteria, and is responsible for the transfer of energy from the antenna to the reaction centre in photosynthesis. It does this with near unity efficiency. The implication is that perhaps nature could have utilized quantum effects to enhance energy transport. This could yield an evolutionary advantage, given that these bacteria can live at ocean depths with very low
light levels, making every photon sacred. We use techniques from quantum physics to study energy transport theoretically in these complexes.
David Hutchinson is a theoretical quantum physicist who works on an eclectic array of problems when not occupied with being the Director of the Dodd-Walls Centre for Photonic and Quantum Technologies – a national Centre of Research Excellence hosted by the University of Otago.
Green sulphur bacteria doing quantum mechanics
(from http://education.seattlepi.com/examples-sulfuroxidizing-bacteria-4142.html)
I chose to collaborate with Prof. David Hutchinson, as I am curious about quantum mechanics. I very much enjoyed our discussions, and learning about the field of quantum biology. Within this field, I was attracted to the subject of photosynthesis, and how quantum mechanics aids the efficiency of this process.
To create this artwork, I imagined what the inside of green sulphur bacteria might look like, especially in regard to the FMO complex – where the energy transfer process of photosynthesis takes place.
I painted scaffold-like structures using watercolours (as green sulphur bacteria live in water), playing with the positive and negative spaces to depict the positive and negative charge of the exciton. I allowed small areas of the watercolour to bleed
into each other, to reflect the vibrational energy that affects the passage of the exciton from the antenna complex to the reaction centre.
I have chosen to display this work as a number of panels, to represent the simultaneous pathways the exciton takes on its journey to the reaction centre.
Chanel Taylor has a PhD in Neuroscience, and is currently a 3rd year Bachelor of Visual Arts student at the Southern Institute of Technology, Invercargill.
Many thanks to David for this collaboration; Chris Taylor for helping cut the Perspex; Lynley & Chris Taylor for funding my excursions to Dunedin; and Peter Stupples for taking me on as his intern for this wider Exhibition Project.
Gout, a painful inflammatory arthritis, is highly prevalent in the New Zealand Māori and Pacific (Polynesian) people. The basic pathophysiological feature of gout is the deposition of monosodium urate crystals in the synovial fluid of the joints following longstanding hyperuricemia (elevated blood urate levels). Hyperuricemia is an essential, although not sufficient, parameter for gout.
Acute gouty arthritis is characterized by severe pain, redness, tenderness, heat and swelling of the affected joint causing restricted joint mobility. Formation of large crystal deposits called ‘tophi’, observed in chronic gout, can cause irreparable damage to the joints and lead to joint disability. Joints at the extremities of the body (fingers and toes) are commonly affected.
Multiple genetic, environmental and interlinking risk factors play a role in the development of this ‘complex’ disease. Environmental risk factors such as intake of purine rich foods (meat and seafoods)
and alcohol consumption can trigger gout flares.
Given that hyperuricemia is a prerequisite for gout, it is highly likely that the genes involved in uric acid transport and metabolism are also associated with gout. The SLC2A9 locus located on chromosome 4 of the human genome is a major locus that strongly influences serum urate concentration in the body. The presence/absence of certain genetic variants (single nucleotide polymorphisms) in a population can predispose the population to hyperuricemia and hence gout. Since gout is highly prevalent amongst the New Zealand Polynesians, my research focuses on the identification of Polynesian-specific genetic variants in the SLC2A9 locus, which would provide a greater insight into the genetic causes of gout and aid in the development of precision medicine.
The work in this exhibition was made in conjunction with Padmini Parthasarathy, from the Department of Biochemistry. She is currently researching the SLC2A9 gene, and focusing on the damage and deformity caused by the deposition of uric acid crystals in the joints at the extremities of our body - the feet and hands.
Hands are probably our most important tool, and we describe them in many different ways: large, strong, capable, warm, cold, limp, small, slender, elegant, lady-like, delicate, work-worn, arthritic.
But there is another word - GOUTY: the hot, swollen, extremely painful and deformed joints, unable to be used as a result of uric acid crystal deposition.
These hands are made of clay; one cradles cut-out shapes representing the uric acid crystals whilst the other lies on a map of the Pacific Ocean.
Gout is a serious and debilitating type of arthritis. Gout attacks are excruciatingly painful and happen sporadically. If left untreated gout can destroy joints and lead to significant disability. Yet having gout is often trivialised. People commonly believe gout is a disease caused by overindulging in food or alcohol, and, because of this, people with gout often feel ashamed of, or blamed for, their condition.
Gout is not a trivial disease. Gout is not caused by overindulgence. People with gout should be neither blamed nor shamed.
Gout is an inherited condition. Someone with a family history of gout is twice as likely to develop gout compared to someone with no family history of gout. This is because gout is a genetic disease. Many genes are involved in causing gout, and many of these genes also cause other diseases like diabetes or heart disease.
Our research is focused on finding the genes that cause gout. We have genetic data from over 2,000 Māori / Pacifika people and over 2,000 European people from Aotearoa, New Zealand, which we use to find genes that influence gout. We aim to understand how these genes cause gout, and how they might change a person’s symptoms or response to treatment. Our goal is to improve the lives of people with gout, through promoting effective treatments, and educating patients and the general public about gout.
Gout is a serious disease. Gout is a genetic disease. Genetic research helps remove blame / shame about gout.
Tanya Major is a Postdoctoral Fellow in the Merriman Research Group, studying the genetics of gout and related diseases.
Gout is a distressing health problem in Aotearoa, New Zealand, affecting an increasing number of (mainly) New Zealand Māori and Pacific Island men, with South Auckland now regarded as ‘the gout capital of the world’. Gout is historically associated with the aristocracy indulging in an excess of wine and food. Researchers today, such as Tanya Major, are keen to dispel the negative stereotypes of gout as a self-inflicted, shameful illness and to raise awareness of the uncontrollable genetic factors that contribute to gout, along with spreading the message that gout is treatable.
In response to Tanya’s research, my first thoughts were inspired by Gustav Klimt’s Beethoven Frieze. The frieze portrays a longing for happiness in a turbulent world in which one contends not only with external hostility but also with internal
weakness. This external and internal conflict, manifesting as the prejudice endured by gout patients, led me to adopt a social and ethical approach to the artwork that engages with the concept of social alienation. While family ties are present through the repeating background depicting parent / child bonds, alienation is expressed through layering and separation with the interruption of an anonymous crowd scene fractured within the work. Reflective surfaces created by the stencil of the gouty hand and the computer hard drives elicit our self-awareness through knowledge and the value of education surrounding scientific research.
In this collaboration, we investigated hybridisation between an endemic endangered New Zealand bird, the Kakī (Black Stilt) and the self-introduced Poaka (Pied Stilt). When Kakī numbers have been historically low, interbreeding between the two species has occurred, and has resulted in fertile hybrids that display a range of plumage nodes intermediate to those of the pure black Kakī and the mixed white and black Poaka.
Plumage characteristics have been shown to be representative of the underlying genetic makeup of the three groups, with individuals identified by plumage as Kakī are genetically Kakī, those that appear morphologically Poaka are genetically Poaka, and hybrids with intermediate plumage have a mixture of the genetic traits of both Kakī and Poaka.
This genetic study used a limited number of
genetic markers located in non-coding regions of the genome, so may not be representative of the genome-wide effects of hybridisation, which can result in genetic material from one species being incorporated into the genome of the hybridising species.
Since this genetic study was conducted, genomic sequencing techniques have greatly advanced, and will allow confirmation of the extent of genetic admixture resulting from hybridisation by identifying genome-wide differences between the morphological groups. Investigation of the functional traits associated with the observed plumage variations will also be possible. As hybridisation may dissolve the genetic authenticity of a species through genetic mixing, this information will be useful for Kakī conservation management, and inform other conservation programmes involving hybridisation.
As a contemporary jeweller, I am interested in the investigation of biodiversity loss and absence. Disappearing and extinct New Zealand species are the motivation and focus of my work. Inspired by Natalie’s research into the hybridisation of the Kakī (New Zealand Black Stilt), I have created a series of nine brooches, A Conglomeration of Stilts, seven of which represent the hybrid nodes.
Each brooch depicts the black and white plumage of the birds on the front, and the back, which represents the hidden, genetic profile of each, is made from a different metal alloy: pure silver for the Kakī, pure copper for the Poaka, and varying proportions of silver/copper alloy for the hybrid birds.
As I created the alloy metals, intriguing metaphors
presented themselves. The alloys had different properties to their parent metals (hardness, ductility, melting point, malleability, lustre, degree of oxidisation, etc.), just as the hybrid birds differ from their precursors. The colour of the alloys changed from silver to gold to red, dependent on the (genetic) dominance of one metal over the other, matching the plumage morphology seen in the individual hybrid birds. The metals also mixed differently when alloyed, some more resistant to combining than others.
This heterogeneity displayed by the metals reflects the diversity of physical and behavioural traits displayed by the intermediate hybrid stilts. It also delivers interesting allegories and raises many complex and loaded moral and scientific questions around interspecies breeding.
Julie and I were friends when we were both starting out on our scientific journeys as PhD students in the early 1980s. We ended up having very different career paths, so I was intrigued when Jules approached me to collaborate on this venture with her.
For as long as the structure of DNA has been known, it has been used in art. I think it is the fascination with DNA, as the key molecule which underpins and transmits life, that makes it so alluring and prone to creative interpretation. But those are precisely the reasons which attract me, as a scientist, to DNA. As an undergraduate I was hooked by the mystique and possibilities that manipulation of DNA offered. I have never lost that love of the molecule, which is a basic driver under-
lying my career, but even better is that the research my team and I do can impact on the understanding and treatment of disease, which makes the hard work very rewarding.
I love explaining how genome-wide association studies work and what they have meant for our understanding of diseases and other traits. The Manhattan plot is an icon of early 21st century human genetics, so I was delighted that Julie used this as a key theme for her work. In the world of genomics, data visualisation and presentation is both an art form and a vital key to understanding. Seeing Julie apply an artist’s eye, and her early genetics training, to human genomics has been both an eye-opener and inspiration.
I first met Martin Kennedy in the early 1980s, in the Molecular Genetics Lab at the Auckland University where we both completed our PhDs.
Martin is interested in patterns of genetic variation which underlie multifaceted human conditions, including psychiatric disorders, and how this variation impacts on the response to therapeutic drugs (pharmacogenomics), and particularly the occurrence of adverse drug reactions. What was overwhelming to me was the plethora of data that Martin and his team worked with and the reliance on computer technology to sort and analyse the information.
To re-humanise the data, the idea of creating children’s building blocks coded with letters: A, C, G and T to symbolise the four nucleotides present
in DNA emerged. The blocks can be moved and rotated to produce different sequences and are arranged to mimic the Manhattan plot, a statistical tool which gains its name from its visual similarity to the Manhattan skyline.
By their nature, the blocks also represent offices and apartments and thereby are preloaded cultural symbols of habitation. They exist by a literal sea of data in the form of cut-out letters from where they have evolved. The building blocks also create neighbourhoods and domains of interaction which mimic the epigenetic factors involved in the reading and architecture of DNA.
I would like to acknowledge Paul Crawley at Wither’s Joinery for his help and the generous donation of MDF; and Lynn Taylor for help laser cutting.
Genetics is the study of heredity, and how the transmission of the genes encoded within our DNA from one generation to the next contributes to normal health and development. DNA stores biological information; knowing someone’s DNA sequence allows geneticists to identify the differences between individuals that make us who we are.
Technology exists today that allows us to contemplate DNA sequencing entire populations. Sequencing hundreds of thousands of people can provide untold good for medicine by revealing what is normal variation, what isn’t normal, and what can be done to diagnose and treat disease. However, DNA sequence can also be used to trace ancestry and ethnicity, and personally identify
an individual; information that can be used to exploit and alienate people for political, cultural, or religious reasons.
At the University of Otago’s Genomics Facility, we run DNA sequencing machines that service the research community. At the heart of our sequencers is something called a flow cell. The flow cell is a single-use item of precision engineering made from glass and plastic: digital images of the flow cell surface are converted to human-readable sequence data files, and the flow cell is discarded.
It has been a privilege to donate our accumulated stash of used flow cells to Johanna, and see them repurposed as raw material for her to explore notions about identity and nationhood.
The emergence of Identity Politics in contemporary art in the late 20th century offers a relevant perspective on my work as a craft practitioner. For some years I have made work that comments on both the idea of nationhood, and the politics that regulate national borders. I am fascinated by craft objects that function as symbols for socioeconomic environments, and have consequently been using currency as a jewellery medium for some time.
I first encountered Aaron Jeffs work in 2015 when he presented his research for a potential Art & Light Project collaboration. It was through this initial encounter that I started to consider the advance of technology in human genome counting and its implications for the inclusion or exclusion of migrants in our capitalist societies. Aaron Jeff’s
knowledge and lab materials became instrumental in shaping this new work. Collaboration has been an integral aspect of my work for some time, and in this instance, allowed craft, science and philosophy to confer. Previous collaborator and friend Dr. Pravu Mazumdar kindly contributed an essential acronym to complete the sequence ACCess mATTers: Trio.
Forged under the hammer, these silver Euros are able to evoke a sense of hybridity, suggestive of both dog tags and credit cards. Fusing the flattened currency with the glass of genetic flow cells offered an unexpected new alliance for the closely connected concepts of the nation state, borders, migration, embodiment of identity, and governmentality. Consequently, these encoded tags question the role of ‘jewellery’ in future political climates.
We would like to thank all those who have helped to make this Project and Exhibition possible: the Council of the Otago Polytechnic, the Dunedin School of Art, in particular the support of Professor Leoni Schmidt; the University of Otago, Professors David Hutchinson and Peter Dearden; the Otago Museum, Craig Scott and Vanessa Graham; special thanks to Dr Chanel Taylor for taking this Project on as an Internship within the Southland Institute of Technology— designing the poster, the invite and the catalogue and carrying out other duties efficiently and with a smile; Pam McKinlay for networking—working the net, to get the message out, and support behind the scenes.
Peter Stupples Ruth Napper Co-ordinators
