Turkey Tail or False Turkey Tail?

On a walkabout with some folks from the High Cove community yesterday, we ran across some beautiful shelf fungi. I knew they were either Turkey Tail or False Turkey Tail. For years I’ve been wondering how to tell the difference and I finally just learned how to ID them. Can you tell which species it is? Here are your clues:


 

The art-science conversation: two resources for deep reflection

What do we mean when we say “art-science?”

Should we encourage more of it? Can the practice of art-science, or “STEAM,” improve our schools? Since art and science have different goals and different approaches, how should we evaluate art-science? How can we level the playing field between art and science, giving each equal respect and opportunities for support? Why don’t the contributions of art to science mirror the contributions of science to art? Can we change that? Should we?

There is a growing recognition that artists and scientists alike seek truths in the world, explore new territory, build on past work, observe with the senses, generate new tools and techniques, solve problems, often collaborate, and use creativity. In recent years, many new initiatives have emerged to re-integrate art with science. However, there are probably as many ways to define art-science as there are practitioners of it. So how do we talk to each other about what we’re doing?

Two recent symposia, both available online, offer opportunities for deep engagement in this conversation. Below are links to the recorded discussions. There’s a lot of rich material worth exploring, and I hope you reflect on them and leave your comments here.

I will close with a challenge:  Note that a lot of us elephants in the room are white… what are we going to do about that?

Strange Attractors: Art, Science, and the Question of Convergence

 

Art & Science: The Two Cultures Converging 

AS IF Center’s first resident: Cynthia Reeves

The Art of the Climate resident has been chosen, and is also AS IF Center’s first official resident. Through a competitive process, we selected Cynthia Reeves, a writer whose work has appeared in a wide array of journals and anthologies. She has won numerous honors, including Miami University Press’s Novella Prize (2007) for Badlands; several Pushcart Prize nominations; and prizes in Columbia’s Fiction Contest, the 2006 and 2008 Quarter After Eight Short Prose Contests, New Millennium’s Short Short Fiction Contest, and Potomac Review’s Fiction Contest. She has also been awarded residencies to Vermont Studio Center and the 2017 Arctic Circle Summer Solstice Expedition to Svalbard.

Cynthia Reeves at Svalbard. Photo by Carleen Sheehan.

Cynthia’s work most often arises in the intersection between history and science. She seeks to portray how the political and the external impinge upon the personal. Often that fresh angle comes through locating the work in the lives of ordinary people whose stories have been lost or ignored, with the goal of enlarging our engagement with wider, unfamiliar worlds. A graduate of Warren Wilson’s MFA program, Cynthia has taught in the creative writing programs at Rosemont College and Bryn Mawr College.

 

What will Cynthia be doing at AS IF Center?
Cynthia’s current writing project is a trilogy of linked novellas entitled The Comfort of Water. All three are set on the Svalbard archipelago, where in June 2017 she shared the Arctic Circle Summer Solstice expedition with 31 other artists. The first novella, The Last Whaler, concerns a Norwegian couple—a beluga whaler and his botanist wife—stranded on Spitsbergen during the winter of 1935-36. Among other themes, it explores the effect of humans on the environment and the protagonist’s changing attitudes toward harvesting whales. The second, The Last Glacier, is a fairy tale set in a parallel contemporary world told from the point of view of the glacier. Its intention is to describe a world that could be lost without significant intervention to slow down the loss of ice at the poles. The third, The Last Eden, a post-apocalyptic novella set in the near future, centers on two characters—a female botanist and a hominin creature—confronted with a cataclysmic event: the sudden massive calving of an ice shelf that isolates them in an Arctic cave. Each has knowledge of the past but no way to access or employ that knowledge. What would become of their desire to reclaim a world already gone? What is the potential for a relationship, for love, to redefine the possible even in the most extreme conditions?

 

This writing project poses two major challenges: to create three very different, authentic worlds, and to portray the geo-political and scientific context in which each story is set. During the residency, Cynthia will continue writing the novellas while also collaborating with scientists at NCEI—especially botanists and glaciologists—to more fully understand the implications of climate change on plants and ice and to supplement her years of Arctic research.

 

We look forward to Cynthia’s visit.

Sara Rich visit to AS IF Center – all about dendroprovenancing

Last weekend AS IF Center hosted Dr. Sara Rich, Lecturer in Art History at Appalachian State University. Sara is a certified diver, a scholar of Arabic and Hebrew, versed in the science of dendrology, and author of Cedar Forests, Cedar Ships: Allure, Lore, and Metaphor in the Mediterranean Near East. Her work involves dendroprovenancing – using dendrochronology to date the wood in shipwrecks. Each year, the earth’s climate leaves a signature of width in tree rings – the overall pattern of thinner and thicker rings can be read like a bar code that dates the tree from which the wood was cut.

AS IF Center breakfast at the Yellow House

Sara came to AS IF to work on a fiction project. We shared a breakfast with Olga Ronay, AS IF Advisory Board member and one of the founding partners of High Cove (where AS IF Center is located), John Moore, woodcarver and former professor of Classics at Brown University and New College, and Byrne Tinney, former UNC faculty member in Spanish, meteorology expert, and longtime resident of the area. Several other High Cove community members had a chance to meet with Sara as well. We shared pizza, hiked, enjoyed a fire at the Lodge, added “dendroprovenancing” to our vocabulary, and talked about ancient history, Arabic and Hebrew language, world travels, and alternative narrative forms for telling the stories of science.

At Sara’s visit, we were envisioning a way to screen off the Yellow House residents’ quarters and studio from the rest of the house, to create more privacy for residents to work. We were inspired with the idea of making a folding privacy screen, collaged with drawings, writings, collections and other works from AS IF visitors. Sara left us with the first element for this project, seen below: a study for a painting of a the multibeam echosounder imaging of the wrecked 16th c. galleon in the Eo Estuary in Ribadeo, Galicia, Spain. Thanks for your visit, Sara – we hope you’ll join us again!

High Cove masala

AS IF Center has been a seed of an idea for many years, drawing on the nutrients of the growing community of art-science, then floating around on the wind for a bit, looking for the right place to take root. We have set down roots in the remote mountains of North Carolina for many reasons, some of them not so surprising: the rich diversity of flora and fauna, world-class geological sites, dark skies for astronomy, and the abundance of artists that buzz around Penland School of Crafts, just up the road. Nearby Asheville, known for its creative environment, also hosts some excellent but lesser-known science institutions. For example, the National Centers for Environmental Information is the headquarters for the nation’s climate data, and the Southern Research Station of the US Forest Service does important work to study how our forests adapt to human impacts.

But there is another reason to be here, and that is the surprisingly cosmopolitan community that is High Cove, where AS IF Center is located.

High Cove is a magnet for visitors from all corners. On a recent night in May, we had a delightful gathering with Gary Martin, who had travelled from Morocco. Gary, an ethnobotanist who wrote a textbook on Ethnobotany, directs the Global Diversity Foundation for preserving the biological and cultural diversity of the planet. At our gathering, a dozen of us mingled, nibbled on local goat cheese and just-picked ramps, sipped some wine, then I asked Gary to tell us about his work. He pulled out a few dozen plastic bags and spread them on the coffee table, and suddenly it looked like a drug bust. What were all these things?

bags of spices on the table

Looks like a drug bust… but it’s just spices aplenty

He opened one bag, a potpourri that included ingredients from all the other bags. He rolled down its edges and offered it to me.  I stuck my nose down into the bag and inhaled. I was transported to a spice market in Morocco, with whiffs of cardamom, cinnamon, anise, pepper, and things I didn’t recognize. My olfactory world burst into complex chord: mineral, herbal, salty, sweet, bitter, sour, umami, medicinal, fruity, woody, nutty… with overtones and undertones, foretastes and aftertastes, like a well-aged, complex wine.

We focused on the ingredients one at a time. Gary passed around a bag of Melegueta pepper, or “grains of paradise.” A member of  Zingiberaceae, or ginger family, the Afromomum melegueta makes seeds which sting the tongue, then reveal clean, citrusy, peppery clouds of flavor that entertain the nose and throat, and fill the head. There were spices that came from every part of a plant. Delicate red threads of the finest saffron in the world, highly valued stamens of the Crocus sativus. Golden, leathery-looking bits of mace, the fleshy aril covering the nutmeg in the Myristica fragrans tree. Orris root,  the rhizome of Iris pallida, used as a fixative to bind  flavors together.

samples of mace in a bag

Mace, the fleshy aril that covers the nutmeg.

an variety of spices in a bag

Take a whiff – incredible aromas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

One highlight of the evening was passing around a small, round seed about the size of a peppercorn, with a smooth woody surface the color of rosewood. It was a guessing game. We scratched and sniffed. One said, “Cloves?” Another asserted: “Cardamom! No, wait. Cinnamon?” And “Hmm… it has a spicy bite, like ginger-ish. But with a deeper note, like maybe nutmeg?” Then we realized, aha. Allspice! Indeed, that is where the name comes from. From Jamaica, allspice, or Pimenta dioica, has flavors reminiscent of so many of these spices.

We expect variety in cities. I have lived in three cities and travelled to a dozen more in different parts of the world. But it wasn’t until I moved to this remote location in the mountains of North Carolina that I had the privilege of learning about ethnobotany from a guy who wrote a textbook on it. Just a few days prior to that olfactory feast of spices, I was at a different kind of feast: my first Russian Orthodox Easter breakfast, eating pascha and drinking tea out of glasses with silver podstakannik, thanks to a Russian artist living at High Cove.

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Russian Orthodox Easter pascha and eggs

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Russian tea glass

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

High Cove has had visitors from Burundi, Switzerland, Austria, Morocco, India, and from all over the US. Folks who live here and those who visit have generally travelled widely, studied deeply, and do interesting work in the arts, the sciences, academia, engineering, journalism, and other fields. High Cove residents include a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist / ceramic artist; a physicist / musician;  a Stanford University classics professor / woodworker; a radio engineer / meteorologist / Spanish professor. Incredibly, when I arrived, there was already another artist / scientist here, who became a friend and partner in crime.

Our feasts of culinary and olfactory delights are a common occurrence here, as are the equally intriguing curries of stimulating conversation. We relish our “sobremesa” (Spanish for “around the table”), that time of lingering after a meal to enjoy stories, laughter, music, learning, and companionship. It is this rich masala of bright minds, delightful conversations, creative work, and adventurous eating, and  that brought AS IF Center to this place.

The world comes to High Cove. We hope you will, too.

 

 

Why does art-science matter? Tell funders.

Over the past few years I’ve been doing some grant searches for funding opportunities that bring the arts and sciences together in some way. Grant programs focused on art-science are fairly sporadic. For well-established projects, the National Science Foundation’s Advancing Informal Science Learning (AISL) can be a fit, but NSF grants are notoriously competitive, awarding about 10% of applicants. Alfred P. Sloan Foundation funds a few projects through its Public Understanding of Science. The Wellcome Trust has a great track record of funding arts projects that deal with biomedical topics, for artists who live and work in the UK or Republic of Ireland.

Doing a grant search on the Foundation Center Online, using the controlled-vocabulary search terms, there is no entry for art-science. Writing in “art-science” as a keyword turns up a modest number of grants nationwide, many of which are “state of the art” science technology, or general education grants for “arts and sciences.” “STEAM” yields even fewer results, often for things like “restoration of steam engine,” etc. Once you further narrow the searches geographically (to make them most useful for actual grant writing) the field is pretty limited.

from little acorns...

from little acorns…

Philanthropists want to make a difference. Funders want their giving to have the biggest impact it possibly can, effecting change in the areas they care about. What can we do to convince funders that art-science matters? How can we change the funding landscape and increase art-science opportunities?

Here are three ways to start making change in the philanthropy environment.  Please add your own and share!

One. Reflect: As practitioners of art-science – whether it’s using science materials and methods to make cutting-edge art, using arts to communicate science narratives, blending both art and science to explore in an open-ended manner, using art to teach science in or out of school, or whatever you do that brings art and science together – ask yourself, why does art-science matter?

Two. Communicate: Each time we convene in a think tank, seminar, symposium, workshop, etc. let’s invite funders as well. We know art-science makes interesting work. We know that our culture’s habit of thinking of art and science as separate  has not served us well over the past few centuries, and that reuniting them is important. We know that art-science is nearing a tipping point, with myriad projects germinating in every discipline, in many regions of the country and internationally, in formal education and outside of it. How can we communicate that excitement to funders? With education in crisis, how can we help funders recognize that interdisciplinary art-science is an effective way to re-ignite curiosity, to help learners think of themselves as investigators, as makers, as fully human, with voices worth hearing?  At every art-science event, small and large, let’s invite funders to the table. Ask for their input, give them a role in this movement.

Three. Measure: With every art-science project, keep track of its outcomes. It’s a pain, but it can help you think about what you are aiming to do, then track how well you did it. If you go for funding, tuck a little bit into each budget for evaluating outcomes, even if you don’t have to. It shows you mean business, and it will help us as a movement to make a better argument for increased funding.

In talking to neighbors, friends, and coworkers about what I do in art-science, I’ve been so surprised lately at the rapid growth of this movement. A decade ago, mentions of my art-science collaborations were met with cocked head, furrowed brow, and queries of “How would you bring those two together? They seem so diametrically opposed!” Now, when I talk about art-science, it’s more often met with “Oh, yeah, I went to this cool poetry reading about physics last week” or “Do you know about _____ (insert name of art-science person I’ve never heard of, whom I then tweet next day on my #artscience du jour).” The fact that art-science is becoming not only well understood but even familiar to the general public is a sure sign that we are building a movement.

Getting on board with funders takes more time. The philanthropic landscape changes slowly; Philanthropy by its very nature is a rather conservative sector. But it does change, and it takes our effort and intention to help it change.  There are new search terms listed in Foundation Center online: Environmental justice. Climate change. Agrodiversity. Circus Arts. Those are subjects now listed by funders as areas of focus for funding, that weren’t there a few years ago. Let’s put “Art-science” on the list.

 

Nautil.us – brain candy, eye candy

I’ve been enjoying the delightfully cerebral articles I find in the science journal, “Nautilus.” This sample article on the topic of Why Nature Prefers Hexagons is exemplary of this journal’s artful appeal to the senses and cultural relevance, and with firm roots in science.

Venus' Flower Basket, Dmitri Grigoriev, Shutterstock

Venus’ Flower Basket, porous skeleton of a sponge.  Photo: Dmitri Grigoriev, Shutterstock

Nautil.us, the website of this sumptuous art-sci magazine, was originally funded by a grant from the John Templeton Foundation. The website offers its articles online for free (seven free articles per month), but for full access, also offers subscriptions for both hard copy and online versions. There is also a store for its delightful science-inspired visual art offerings.

To explore a bit of background on science journalism over the past few decades, check out this NYT article. Nautilus quarterly issues are organized around particular topics, such as “Boundaries,” “Adaptation,” “Attraction,” “Space,” “Stress,” “Identity,” “Scaling”…

Some sample article titles, for further enticement:

Why It’s Hard for Black Holes to Get Together

Why We Swim in Quarries

Describing People as Particles Isn’t Always a Bad Idea

Dive in, enjoy, and tell me what you think.

 

We begin.

Sunrise from the Yellow House porch

Sunrise from the Yellow House porch

This is not really the beginning, it’s a continuation of many art + science collaborations, some that have grown over many years and some that lasted only a few days… with many artists, scientists, visionaries, educators, explorers, innovators, crazy people, scholars, children, neighbors, ancestors. It’s just that now, we have a PLACE.

We are glad you are here in our virtual place. We hope that you will find inspiration in these pages, but above all, that you will come to this physical place, the AS IF Center, and help shape a think-and-do community of art-science creativity, play, scholarship, and exploration that will grow for generations.

Let us know what you think! Email us with feedback. Write with questions, comments, constructive criticism, suggestions for events and workshops, contact info for art-sci people we should know.

Hope to see you soon! Come have coffee with us on the Yellow House porch, watch the sun rise, and begin your day of art + science inspiration.