My project for this week is conceptually similar to the musical illustration I prepared for last week’s assignment. I find myself being continually fascinated by the perfect interlocking mechanisms embedded in human and animal biology, and the contrast of this perfect synergy with the havoc and chaos that could occur if one small part of the mechanism should malfunction. This contrast is particularly interesting in the context of the prion, because prion diseases are not caused by an external pathogen but by proteins produced in the body of the original host. I think the Jekyll and Hyde-esque nature of the prion is rather poetic, which perhaps explains why I’m continually drawn to this concept in my pieces.
The painting I’ve prepared for this week was created primarily using the ink-blowing method that Professor Rivera demonstrated last week. The diagonal straight lines across the pieces were created by dragging an ink-stained twig across the paper after the central, inkblown structure was created.
In terms of portraying the literal physical structure of a mutated prion, one might assume that the straight lines represent the mutated form whereas the abstract structure in the middle represents the normal form. After all, PrP-Res is trademarked by its abundance of beta sheets, in contrast to PrP-C which is marked by its helix-like alpha structures. Looking at computer graphic representations of the prion proteins, PrP-C has a distinctive curly, organic look to it while PrP-Res looks more simplistic in structure.
However, I chose not to present a literal physical portrayal of the different prion proteins in my piece because I wanted to communicate a specific, conceptual message with my work — that is, the way that a misfolded, faulty protein interferes and interrupts an otherwise well-functioning, perfectly interlocked preexisting biological system. In this sense, the chaos of the ink-blown component represents the mutated protein. It’s composed of the same material as the straight lines that represent the normal protein, and it even slants in the same diagonal direction. There is some shading contrast in the abstract piece, just as there is shading contrast in the straight lines. The mutated and normal proteins are, in many ways, the same — the only difference lies in their shape. However, the difference in shape creates a very obvious and stark contrast between two kindred objects. This was the concept that I was attempting to communicate through my work.
I really loved listening to Professor Rivera’s lecture, and found her work to be incredibly inspiring and thought-provoking. I found the small discussion on appropriative art and communication to be particularly interesting and pertinent to my own work outside of this class (I’m currently working on a sound installation for another class that will contain several components of indigenous Taiwanese cultural history, and one of my main challenges is finding a way to communicate this without being appropriative), but in a way, I think this discussion can be equally pertinent to the communication of science through art. While “scientific art” might not hold as much of a challenge in tackling socio-political sensitivities, the idea of “appropriating science” as a non-scientist is conceptually interesting to me.
Despite not having in-depth, thorough knowledge of a scientific concept as, say, a scientist who has spent immense time, money, and energy studying it, do I have the right to create art at will that is “inspired” off of a scientific concept that I haven’t invested a comparable amount of time studying? Conversely, do scientists have the right to “copy” artistic methods that they haven’t studied thoroughly in order to serve their own means? I think the idea of appropriation and having the “right” to use a certain medium or idea given one’s preexisting privileges is a question that pervades all intellectual arenas, and it’s one that might have pertinence to the heart of this class.