The final piece, called Diorama 1, was finished at the end of 2020, but because of the coronavirus situation it has not yet been possible to take the artwork to Leeds to be displayed at St James’ Hospital. However, we decided it would be good to start sharing online rather than waiting until it goes on physical display, so here is a selection of pictures….
Images are by Robyn Manning Photography, who can be found on Instagram as @robyn_manning_photos. I am extremely grateful to Robyn for her patience in setting up everything so that the Diorama looks its best – thanks Robyn!
I thought it might also be interesting for people to see an example of the transition of lighting of the vesicles – this video was taken on my phone, so don’t blame Robyn for the ‘blown out’ exposure of the illuminated vesicles….
From quite an early conversation with the team, the intention had been for the vesicles to be lit up, but what was less clear was how this was to be achieved. We had discussed how it would be great for the lighting to change throughout the day, both to compensate for the piece being placed in a position without natural light (the CRF waiting areas are not naturally lit) and also to add interest to the piece.
I liked the idea of internal lighting and a transition across the day, finding it wonderfully consistent with the idea of a traditional diorama, as these often included their own interior lighting to draw in the viewer. One of the big questions for me, though, was how to programme the timings on the lighting, not being particularly competent in that area.
I did briefly learn how to use Arduinos, but it was a while ago and I would have had to start again from scratch to make it work. Also, all the restrictions of Covid made it harder to contemplate outsourcing this part of the project, as did the available budget. The answer came in the surprising form of aquarium controllers. These controllers are designed to make sure that aquarium fish are not shocked by the sudden switching on of the lights in the morning or the switching off in the evening and allow you to programme a series of sunrises and sunsets across the day.
Constructing the stands so that the glass elements were lit internally was initially a case of testing lots of different types of 12V lights of the kind often used for caravans or countertops. Eventually I found some that I was happy with and set about mounting them so that the lights would be correctly positioned within the vesicles. Lots of cases of trial and error as I went along and once again aquarium supplies came to the rescue, this time in the form of clear flexible tubing that holds the lights in the right place.
Finally, after wiring, soldering and finishing the full construction of the piece, I could programme the lights in the vesicles. They can each be set to gradually come on at different intensities across the day to draw attention to different parts of the diorama.
Meanwhile, another challenge was to light the Z Stack. I achieved this through feeding an LED strip through the length of the stand I had created for the stack, with holes strategically drilled to let light through. For me, this layered lighting enhances the analogy of the Z Stack itself, and how the microscopy and computation processes build a whole form from slices of data.
To see a timelapse of one lighting scheme for the finished artwork, have a look at a forthcoming post of images of the final piece!
As well as the vesicles, a major glass element of the sculpture was the Z Stack, as I like to call it. This is a form made from ‘slices’ of glass, each with a different colour or texture, that when mounted together suggest a three-dimensional form.
The Z Stack was an element that came to mind very early in the process during my visit to the labs, when Arindam explained to me how the images of the ‘spheroids’ of cells were constructed. The confocal microscope could be instructed to scan multiple layers of a three dimensional object, and would then build an apparently three dimensional image from the slices it had scanned. The number of scans that go into constructing the image would then affect the resolution of the object and also the time to create as well as the ultimate file size.
There are two main textural types of slice in the Z Stack – those with ‘miniature vesicles’ on the surface, and those which have a honeycomb structure. The honeycomb is the one reference in the piece to the original source of the peptide, the Amazonian wasp.
I wanted to create an analogue analogy for the Z stack, to create a 3D form from slices, and from that my Z Stack was born. Initially I thought it might be interesting to make the slices ‘floppy’ to accentuate the departure of the analogue from the digital counterpart, but aesthetically I found it confusing and cumbersome. I also wondered about offsetting some of the slices from the horizontal, but again this appeared to confuse the communication of the idea.
In the later stages of construction, I continued to experiment, but this time with the number of slices to see what worked best in creating an outline form. Below is the version with 9 slices.
I ultimately settled on 11 slices as giving the most pleasing form.
As soon as the idea of a diorama came to mind, I felt that the backdrop should reference the research project itself, not just the scientific concepts and phenomena that were the subject of the research. When I discussed this with the team, they were all enthusiastic, so I started working on the kinds of materials I wanted to include.
During my visit to the lab, I had been very struck by all the handwritten calculations that formed an active part of the experiments that I was viewing. For me, this not only references an important research activity, but the handwriting also emphasises the human hand involved in the process.
Andrew kindly agreed to provide me with some of his calculations.
I also wanted to use images of cells that forms a central part of the research, so trawled through a number of different types of microscopic images searching for the ones I thought would work as part of a diorama. My intention was to create a layering of information and data that reflected different parts of the research process and different stages of development of the project.
During various conversations with Paul and Tom we had talked about issues in scientific publishing. This was something I had an awareness of since my involvement with the Royal Society’s Research Culture project that had spawned the Museum of Extraordinary Objects, but it was brought home to me the critical role that science journals play in the dissemination of knowledge, and the complex and – to me – unsavoury considerations that can determine who gets to see the outcomes of research. As an independent researcher I am only too aware of the paywalls that inhibit people’s access to information and the high cost of getting hold of many articles. See this Guardianeditorial if you want to be horrified by the economics of the science publishing industry model.
I was delighted that one of the articles that sets out the initial premises of the project was Open Access (although I was disturbed to learn that academic institutions have to pay publishers to have their articles Open Access). I determined this would form another element of the diorama backdrop.
I discussed with Paul the issues around editing and processing the research images to create the effects that I wanted, and he was sanguine with the images being changed as this was for the purposes of creating an artwork rather than for scientific purposes. So I set about processing the images and ended up with three elements for the backdrop.
The backdrop images were printed and mounted on transparent or translucent acrylic sheets. This mounting would allow different levels of visibility and layering from different angles and under different light conditions…
Once the vesicles were underway, one of the major considerations in creating the piece was the relationship between all the different elements. I had already, obviously, committed to creating the ‘vesicles’ and ‘z-stack’ at certain sizes and imagined them situated in relation to each other, but there was still quite a lot to be considered in getting the relationships right. There was also a lot of planning and experimentation in creating the fixings to hold the glass in position.
Once I had a sense of the sizing and spacing, I set to constructing the base and the stands that would hold the glass elements. I was also trying to take into account that the piece would need to travel from my studio to the hospital in Leeds, so my aim was to make the piece so that it could be deconstructed again for transport.
Meanwhile, the case I had ordered to contain the diorama had arrived. This meant that I could make sure that all the measurements I had made were accurate and that the base and the case would fit together properly.
The slats at the back of the base would hold the acrylic sheets used to mount the backdrop images. These had to be carefully measured so they would hold the sheets firmly in place.
Eventually the base was built, and I could mount the stands that I had created to hold the glass elements and acrylic sheets. At this stage, I was working with the acrylic sheets still in their protective wrap – that only came off close to completion as acrylic scratches very easily. In fact, the case for the piece has been treated with an anti-abrasive coating to try and minimise exterior scratching, although it can’t prevent it altogether.
And now, all that was left to do was to spray paint the base and mount all the interior elements!