Cells: The Smallest of All Portraits

Today I went to see a very special exhibition at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery in Edinburgh, called Cells: The Smallest of All Portraits.  Pupils from James Gillespie’s High School and Penicuik High School had created a profound and thought-provoking laboratory installation, exploring the meaning of identity in a post-Dolly the Sheep world.  A variety of media were used, from beakers, test tubes, petri dishes and mass spectrometry to traditional printmaking and sketching.  Trying to gauge how these kids felt about cloning and cell biology research overall, the impression I got was one of mingled fear and excitement.  This was compounded when I listened to a tape of audio samples of the debate they were having – some felt that cloning was fundamentally wrong, others said that it was no more disturbing to them than the idea of having an identical twin.

I thought the pupils did a fantastic job at answering some of the questions I’d been exploring – particularly whether art could be used to encourage rational debate and understanding in the general public. Based on the evidence of this exhibition, I would say that the answer is a resounding yes.

I was also lucky enough to meet Jo Mawdsley, the Schools Education Officer and one of the coordinators of the exhibition. She gave me her email address and told me to get in touch, which I will definitely be doing.

The installation was part of a larger exhibition called Pioneers of Science, featuring portraits of many famous scientists throughout history.  I thought I knew what to expect, yet I was fairly stunned when I came up the stairs to find myself face to face with a portrait of Sir David Lane, one of the scientists that discovered the p53 gene (and from Dundee University, no less).

The portrait was painted by Ken Currie, who spent some time getting to know the scientists, even taking casts of their faces for reference.  Currie said that the portrait was “unlocked” for him when Professor Lane said, “People see cancer as a darkness – our job is to go in and retrieve people from that darkness.”

Koyaanisqatsi: Life Out of Balance

Seeing as both John and Angus had told me to watch this film, I thought I’d better do it. This quiet Saturday morning, after much trawling of the internet for an HD version that didn’t break the bank (a quick skim of reviews made it clear that this was a film to be watched on the biggest screen possible, in the highest resolution possible), I finally rented it off iTunes. I must admit that after seeing the trailer I was a little cynical – could I really watch an 86-minute film made entirely out of abstract images, with no discernible plot?

I am happy to report that Koyaanisqatsi well and truly blew my mind.  The cinematography is staggering – particularly given that it was filmed on a tiny budget.

It also opened my mind to the possibility of a documentary without words. The music – a sublime soundtrack by Philip Glass – and the title Koyaanisqatsi (from the Hopi language, meaning ‘life out of balance’), were all it needed to get its point across – in fact, I feel that the presence of a narrator would have greatly detracted from the message of the film.

It was also interesting to see where so many directors got their ideas from – Koyaanisqatsi made the use of time-lapse in film ubiquitous, from clouds to cars in cityscapes – yet even today I think the original is best.

The trailer for Koyaanisqatsi (I don’t think it does the film justice, personally)