Crafting the Genome Lab: MRC open day

Scientists all around the UK are celebrating the centenary of the Medical Research Council this year and the geneticists, structural biologists and crystallographers at the Genome Damage and Stability Centre, University of Sussex, are no exception.  They've planned a whole day of discussions, demonstrations and lab tours to promote their ground-breaking research.  A particular specialism is  damage caused to our DNA and what the body's attempts to repair it can tell us about cancer and rare genetic disorders.

Back in 2012 they hatched a plan to invite artists with an interest in science to contribute to the day and I was one of the ones who responded.  Land artist Chris Drury, who has made several works inspired by genetics, will show one of his large-scale pieces and Shirley Chubb will install Darwin's 'Thinking Path'. 

 

Stella Harding BLUE JEWEL 2011, Photo Ester Segerra

 

People have often suggested that my spiral plaited forms look a bit like the DNA double helix, but rather than show an existing piece I proposed something a little different to the organising committee.
They wanted the day to provide an opportunity to communicate with members of the public, an opportunity for dialogue and active engagement.  My suggestion was that on the day scientists, artists and members of the public should work together on making an interactive installation crafted from the very 'stuff' of the genome labs.  At the initial meeting I wasn't sure exactly what this stuff might be - I had some vague idea it might involve waste paper - lab reports, research papers, old journals and the like.  This was before I'd actually visited any of the labs in the centre. 

Plastic! fantastic!! Far from the sterile, orderly white-coated stereotype here was a myriad of colourful chaos.  And, after one use, most of it goes in the recycling bins! 

                Of course, it's all colour coded and sorted into hazardous and non-hazardous waste.

 

All handled with equally colourful gloved hands.  This is the everyday stuff of lab craft.  So, if  DNA is 'the stuff of us' - the building blocks of life,  then all this plastic paraphernalia from the research laboratories would be the building blocks for Crafting the Genome Lab - a fantastical experiment in collaborative making and repairing and having fun! - which is what a celebration should be about.

 

I've certainly been having fun playing with some of the tip-box covers and six-well dishes in the studio - their perforated, cellular grid forms remind me of Lego and Meccano building blocks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, somewhat predictably, I couldn't resist making my own tip-box high rise.

 

 

 

Eat your heart out Norman Foster.

 

Who knows exactly what we'll make on the day.  There's a large space in the entrance of the Fulton Building to fill and to get things going I'll be contributing a 2 metre length of my plaited 'DNA' (each 2 metre double  strand of tightly packed DNA is unravelled and copied every time a cell divides).  Participants will be invited to 'damage' and repair it in whatever way they see fit.  There'll be plenty of scientists and PhD students on hand to help out and answer questions.  After talking with crystallographer Tony Oliver I've a hankering to grow a large glittering crystalline structure out of hundreds of 5mm pipettes - but I've heard the students are a dab hand at making elephants out of plastic gloves so it's all to play for on the day............

 

If you'd like to learn more about DNA damage and repair, have a look through an electron microscope or if you just want to get your hands on some plastic see www.mrc-genome-openday.com for details. 

FOR PRISONERS OF CONSCIENCE

May justice prevail today as writers, publishers, journalists and students go on trial again in Turkey.

Professor Busra Ersanli, translator and women's rights campaigner Ayse Berktay, publisher and Nobel peace prize nominee Rajip Zarakolu and student Deniz Zarakolu are amongst many others who face long prison sentences if convicted for speaking out against injustice.  Pen International, English Pen www.englishpen.org  have been campaigning on their behalf for nearly two years during which time many have been held in detention. 

My piece for 'Maggs Between the Covers' was made to highlight the plight of prisoners of conscience throughout the world and the humanitarian work of organisations such as English Pen. To give support to writers at risk you can sign up to their rapid action network by visiting their website www.englishpen.org  

LINE OF BEAUTY

"Beauty is the First Test", curated by Liz Cooper, 27 April - 30 June 2013, National Centre for Craft and Design, Sleaford

When I heard last year that this exhibition was opening at the Pump House Gallery in London I felt a twinge of regret that I wasn't part of what was one of my 'wish-list' exhibitions.  So I felt very privileged to have been asked to participate as a case study as it travels to various new venues around Britain.  I've been banging on about the mathematics underlying basketry techniques for years not to mention my own past experiences with the subject.

 

 

Spot the pattern - six around one never fails to delight and Lesley Halliwell's spirograph drawings are one of the highlights of the show

 

 

 

Views of the exhibition at the National Centre for Craft and Design, Sleaford.  Showing work (on the walls) by Lesley Halliwell, Janette Matthews, Michael Brennand-Wood, Janice Gunner and Ann Sutton and (on the floor plinth ) textiles by Lucy McMullen.  Four of the five case studies can be seen  displayed on specially commissioned furniture by David Gates.  Photos: Liz Cooper

The brain-child of curator Liz Cooper, herself a former school maths champ, this exhibition brings together artists and makers whose work (mostly in textiles) "explores how mathematical concepts underpin craft techniques and artistic development".  The title is a quote from British mathematician G. H. Hardy - one of the first to propose mathematics as a language for describing patterns:

"...the mathematicians patterns, like the artist's or the poet's must be beautiful; the ideas, like the colours or the words must fit together in a harmonious way.  Beauty is the first test: there is no permanent place in the world for ugly mathematics" (Hardy, London: 1941).

'Beauty' may have lost its currency as a standard for judging works of art since Hardy's day, being now considered too subjective or socially constructed a concept.  And there are many 'ugly' patterns of human psycho-social, political and economic behaviour that claim the attention of contemporary artists.  But as Liz Cooper herself points out in the Pump House Gallery exhibition booklet, the word sets up a challenge and a subject for debate - especially when applied to craft practices.

"In craft it is debateable whether one wants beauty as an end result - especially if one eschews the bucolic vision of William Morris and an idealised ruralisation of craft practice that conveniently ignores the location of most art schools and colleges, and the majority of the population, in cities and towns." (Cooper, London 2012)

 

Contemporary bobbin-lace making by Gail Baxter and Carol Quarani - two of the five case studies - with sculpture and drawings by Peter Randall-Page (centre) and Ann Sutton in the background. Photo: Liz Cooper

The inclusion of the five craft 'case studies', including lace-makers Gail Baxter and Carol Quarani, furniture maker David Gates, basketry by Stella Harding and woven textiles by Margot Selby, not only adds focus on process and materiality but also challenges perceptions of contemporary craft practice. 

Contemporary basketry case study by Stella Harding with sculpture by Suresh Dutt in the background.  Photo: Liz Cooper

My own case study, showing three-dimensional geometric forms in a plaiting technique more often used to make straw 'corn dollies' and a wearable structure plaited from a redundant steel tape measure - disrupts preconceptions about the materials, techniques, forms and functions associated with basketry.

 

A book, with text by Liz Cooper, giving insights into each case study maker's studio practice, materials, inspirations and artistic development is displayed alongside the work.  In some cases the makers have also provided sketch-books, tools, models or work-in-progress.

David Gates' case study showing scale models of his bespoke furniture, a range of carpentry joints and a developmental sketchbook is exquisitely engaging.  Photo: Stella Harding

 

 Carol Quarani's case study illustrates how she uses lace as a medium for conceptual work.  Her doctoral research explores how lace curtains can be used to re-read the relationship between the domestic, the uncanny and the Gothic 

 

 

Contemporary bobbin lace by Carol Quarani

 

Pattern  recognition may be a basic human attribute and one of the ways in which we make sense of and come to understand the world.  Order, symmetry, balance, harmony and repetition can be safe and comforting. Often though we only recognise the significance of a pattern when it is disrupted in some way - by small irregularities, asymmetries, discord, accidental marks leading to unintended consequences.  This for me, is the beauty of  this exhibition.  If we look closely it reminds us that chaos is part of the equation - that the devil is in the detail and that beauty is only ever skin deep. 

Oh, and I loved the way the shadows of the case studies on the gallery floor grounded the structures, animated the space and created a dramatic film noir effect.

Which allows me to segue shamelessly into a plug for a forthcoming experimental film of the case-studies, commissioned by Liz Cooper from film makers Electric Egg and funded by Arts Council England.  The film will be shown alongside the exhibition from the end of May.

But I'm going to leave the last word to G.H. Hardy - ever the one for a pithy quote:

"It is a melancholy experience for a mathematician to find himself (sic) writing about mathematics.  The function of a mathematician is to do something (...) and not to talk about what he or other mathematicians have done. (...) There is no scorn more profound, or on the whole more justifiable, than that of the men who make for the men who explain." (London: 1941)

Better get making then!!

MATHS ON MONDAY

 

                                          Stella Harding JEWELS -  photo: Arnold Borgerth

When I started secondary school we were given two books - a copy of the King James Bible and a book of Logarithmic Tables.  We were told we could keep the bible when we left school but the Log Book - the mathematicians 'bible' - would have to be returned.  I covered both in brown paper to keep them clean and stowed them in my desk for the duration.

Despite being a confirmed atheist I loved Scripture (as Religious Education was called at our school).  My teacher was a scholar of ancient Greek and Aramaic who had worked on the Dead Sea Scrolls.  She was also a liberal thinker with a wicked sense of humour who opened our minds to all manner of 'heresies'.  I excelled at the subject.

Mathematics was another story. I had the same teacher for six years and she made my life a misery.  She was one of those draconian maths teachers, thankfully fewer in number these days, who should probably be held to account for the poor levels of adult numeracy in this country.  She was a bully who derived pleasure from humiliating those less able than herself.  The prospect of double maths on Monday mornings made me sick to the stomach.  On the few occasions when I was called upon to consult my Log Tables the columns of numbers would swim before my eyes like indecipherable cuneiform.  She was also a tyrannical control freak who demanded absolute submission to her rule - and woe betide if you ever forgot your ruler!  The idea of educating enquiring minds was an antithetical heresy.  I failed O-level maths twice before deciding enough was enough and I handed back my Log Tables.  Whereupon Miss T flew into an apoplectic rage and ordered me (then aged 17) to stand in the corner of the room - the classic punishment in Victorian times for the class dunce - thought this was the late 1960s!  I politely refused, found another teacher and passed my O-level maths on the next re-take.

 

    The other side of the equation: Stella Harding PRECIOUS JEWEL 2010 m2 gallery, London

I confronted many of these demons in 'Show Your Working Out' my solo show at the m2 gallery in 2010.  Though something of a cliche this phrase, beloved of maths teachers and uttered with varying degrees of exasperation, makes obvious connections with showing aspects of both the material process and the hands-on thinking through making of contemporary craft.  Though we're often only privy to the final resolution the mis-calculations, crossings out and scribbles in the margins can be equally revealing to an onlooker. 

I was particularly inspired at the time by the writings of the 17th century astronomer and mathematician Johannes Kepler who wrote of geometry as having "... two great treasures; one is the theorem of Pythagoras; the other the division of a line into extreme and mean ratio. The first we may compare to a measure of gold, the second we may name a precious jewel."  He was referring to geometry but it was the poetry of his language that struck a chord in me. 

 

                     My 'measures of gold', plaited vintage steel tape-measure bangles. 

 

Made in my home town, the steel city of Sheffield, by Rabone Chesterman - a company that specialised in high calibration tools and equipment - these tape measures with their exquisitely etched and printed numerals offered for me  a way of literally and metaphorically weaving mathematics and three-dimensional geometry using an intriguing plaiting technique. 

 

 

As the numbers weave over and under from left to right in a continuous line of progression, following the law of unintended consequences sometimes unforeseen disruptive patterns emerge.

 

I've just discovered that Kepler also wrote an essay in 1611 'On the Six Cornered Snowflake' which he gave as a Christmas present to his employer the Emperor Rudolf II - "since it comes down from heaven and looks like a star".

 

 

    BLING !!! (my guiding star) Stella Harding 2010, hexagonal plaited steel tape measures, dyed chair cane and spun paper. Photo: Trevor Springett

 

 

 

Stella Harding BLACK PEARL 2010, steel tape measure, polypropylene strapping tape and spun paper. Photo: Trevor Spingett

 

I appreciate Kepler's fascination for pentagons too - plaited in my case.

 

 

Stella Harding 2008, painted spun paper

 

Open hexagonal plaiting is another technique I come back to again and again - exploring it in different materials. 

 

 

Stella Harding (with Shane Waltener) 2011, stitched plastic bags, for Practical Basketry Techniques A&C Black 2012

 

 

Stella Harding 2012 'Between the Lines', stamped lead, for Maggs Beneath the Covers

 

 

So, fast forward now to this Monday when I had the pleasure of welcoming curator Liz Cooper to my studio.  Liz is the curator of  'Beauty is the First Test' an exhibition exploring the relationship between contemporary craft and mathematics which opened at the Pumphouse Gallery in London last year and is now travelling to venues around Britain and Ireland.  I first heard of this exhibition when working with Martin Shaw of the Crafts Council's Participation and Learning team to adapt one of the projects from Practical Basketry Techniques as an on-line tutorial for Key Stage Two maths students.  I'd suggested this project for Craft Club as I've long been aware of the natural mathematics underpinning many basketry techniques and the belief of some ethno-mathematicians that basketry was fundamental to the development of our human capacity for pattern recognition and manipulation of line and form in space. 

 

      Twining with 5-9 year-olds at Pitzhanger Manor in 2011 - one of my favourite  projects from 'Practical Basketry Techniques'.

When you think of maths as the science of pattern it's not so scary and even a five year old can being to get to grips with it. 

My contemporary basketry will feature as one of five case-studies (including weaver Margo Selby, furniture-maker David Gates and lace makers Carol Quarini and Gail Baxter) when 'Beauty is the First Test' opens again on 27th April at the National Centre for Craft and Design in Sleaford.  I can give a sneak preview of the piece that Liz Cooper chose to represent the mathematical concepts underlying many of my pieces.

      ARCHEFOSSIL 2012 - one of the latest in my line of spiral plaited 'Jewels'.  Photo: Arnold Borgerth.

Amongst other things this tightly interlocking three-dimensional spiralling form represents, for me, the ability of the human hand to grasp tacit knowledge that the mind might otherwise let slip.  And, since I've discovered, through basketry that I have 'mathematical fingers',  I'll be letting go of my previous maths phobia.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOOK

 

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOOK! 'Practical Basketry Techniques' is one year old today.  A lovely gift for anyone who wants to explore the creativity of three-dimensional weaving. 

TRAVELLING LINES

Today sees the opening of AMULETS by Basketry Plus at Wardown Park Museum in Luton.  If you missed this collection on its first outing at the Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology in London here's a second chance.

See www.lutonculture.com/wardown-park-museum for more details.

Look out for more work by Basketry Plus later this year at the Pitt Rivers Museum in Oxford.

We need to talk about basketry: #1 starting line

Life.  You wait ages for a storyline and then three come at once!  They're all interconnected and in one way or another touch on some of my recent thinking about basketry.

Are you sitting comfortably?  Then I'll begin.
(I haven't any particular images to illustrate this blog so I'm just going to insert a few random pics of my favourite basketry techniques)

 

Cordage by Pip Weaser of the Scottish Basketmakers Circle www.scottishbasketmakerscircle.org

I went to the Craft Study Centre (www.csc.acreative.ac.uk) in Farnham last week for a practical workshop on writing about craft run by centre director Professor Simon Olding and independent writer/curator Sara Roberts.  We were a small group - a mix of makers from different craft disciplines including textiles, ceramics and basketry alongside a couple of curators and educators.

After the usual introductions we got our brains into gear with an ice-breaker exercise in which Simon and Sara gave us each a minute to write down three words we felt characterised good writing about craft.  There were no right or wrong answers but what was interesting was that of all our combined words none were repeated. Several though clustered around the themes of clarity, simplicity and accessibility whilst others expressed a wish for writing about craft that is surprising, provoking and questioning.  We then mirrored the exercise with only thirty seconds to write down one word that sums up bad writing about craft.  Impenetrable, obfuscating, inaccessible and confusing were some that give a flavour of the general consensus.

 

Interlacing by Rachel Max www.basketryplus.org

Next was a talk by Simon and Sara on their top tips for good writing - well illustrated with engaging and inspiring examples, including one of my favourites; ceramist Matt Smith's piece for the catalogue of 'Unravelling the Manor'. www.unravelled.org.uk    www.mattjsmith.com   Then it was time for tea and a spot of networking before the challenge of crafting a few words of our own.

The brief was to select one object from the current exhibitions at the Study Centre and write fifty words about it for a general audience (reading age 12-14). With a checklist of points to include such as revealing something of the making process, providing a context for the reader to appreciate the work and including a human element - i.e. telling a story - we were given just ten minutes before having to read it aloud to the group! No pressure!!

Having decided there was no time to follow most of the others up-stairs to the exhibition of contemporary ceramics by Alison Britton I headed straight for the ground floor display of objects reflecting the life and work of Robin Tanner - print-maker, educator, craft collector and founding trustee of the Craft Study Centre.  I'd seen this fascinating exhibition, curated by Jean Vacher, on a previous visit so had an idea of what to expect, ceramics by Lucie Rie, Hans Coper and Bernard Leach, furniture by Gordon Russell, textiles by Barron and Larcher as well as etchings and engravings by Tanner himself.

                                         Samples of basketry techniques by Stella Harding

I was desperately looking for something that would connect to basketry in some way and the closest thing was exhibit No. 42 a rush-seated chair by Gordon Russell.  I've never done chair-seating but I know a lot of basket makers who have - it employs related materials and techniques.  Nine minutes left.  I began writing - accompanied by Vaughn Williams' 'Variations on a Theme by Thomas Tallis' playing softly in the background.  Some frantic word-counting and crossings-out later Sara came in to say 'stop writing'.  We then headed upstairs to face the moments of truth - standing in front of our chosen objects reading our pieces aloud to the group before getting feed-back from Simon and Sara.

 

Twined cardboard cups made by children at a British Museum workshop - see similar illustrated in 'Practical Basketry Techniques' A&C Black 2012

 

One brave ceramist volunteered to go first with her piece about Alison's Britton's tea cup collection.  Nice one: get it over with so you can relax and watch the others squirm as they wonder when it's going to be their turn.  Listening to engaging prose followed by generous and encouraging appraisals from Simon and Sara gave some comfort as it gradually began to dawn on me that I would probably be last. 

Back downstairs to the Tanner collection and after a discourse on a brown jug there was no escape.  I don't know what imp of perversity had got into me there in the hushed shadows of all that's hallowed in the British craft tradition, but I would have to stand by what I'd written. Deep breath, no apology, say it with conviction.  Here goes.

"Number 42.  A chair.  Ladder-backed, rush-seated, English Yew.  Solid, enduring, vernacular.  It speaks of pastoral sensibilities, cottage industries and traditional values. It speaks too of my on-off love affair with the rural idyll.  Perhaps it's time for an end - a sticky divorce?  It would make good firewood, if only I had the hearth."

53 words

Imperceptible pause.  Explosive gasps of incredulous laughter.  Beaming smiles and positive grins.  Huge relief.  Comments from Simon and Sara re-assured me that it took confidence to write something provocative in that particular context. It described the object and its cultural context whilst telling a personal story which takes the audience on a journey with an unexpected twist at the end.  Comments from the group were that they'd never look at that chair the same way again!
 

 

Coiled Pomo basket from the Pitt Rivers Collection - maker unknown

For me, it summarised a lot of my thinking about basketry and my own relationship with craft traditions and the relative values of craft skills, processes and objects.  I greatly admire that chair - everyone said that was evident.  It stood in place of the basketry I couldn't find to write about - filling an absence, a silence, an empty space in the history of objects with no maker's name to legitimate their place in the hierarchy of cultural production.

What struck me too was that all the others had chosen an item of ceramics to write about.  A craft genre with with no shortage of erudite and eloquent makers, craft historians and  cultural critics to chart its history and contemporary developments. Simon had advised us earlier that one way into honing our writing skills was to read, read, read and it's often occurred to me that much of the critical writing about contemporary ceramics and textiles could easily relate to basketry.  But where would that leave basketry as a distinct area of creative pratice with its own specific conditions of production and consumption?

No. We need to talk about basketry.  Not fibre art, not constructed textiles, not willow weaving, not even basket-making.  Basketry.