Junctures - The Journal for Thematic Dialogue

Dowdle, Amy

St Baker, Jo

88 Junctures 18, December 2017
JO ST BAKER AND AMY DOWDLE
Awakening
Figure 1. Jo St Baker, Animated 1.49 min film loop projection on Awakening (All for Love), 2017, chiffon print scarf.
89Junctures 18, December 2017
AMY DOWDLE
Ever since I was a child, I have loved classic eighties coming-of-age movies, and my favourite was 
always Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. American movies in particular have this tendency to romanticise 
those teenage years: my adolescence was certainly more bumbling and pimply than these films 
had led me to expect. In reality, many of us would struggle to identify our own “coming-of-age” 
moment – but in fact, genetically speaking, we all had a coming-of-age before we were even born.
Following fertilisation, the early embryo is developing according to instructions left in the egg by the 
mother. The cells are growing and dividing, but the embryo’s own genes are silent – they’re switched 
off. So development is being maternally directed, much in the same way our childhoods are. However, 
at a certain point, the embryo’s genes wake up; they switch on and become active. Not only does 
the embryo begin to print its own developmental instructions, but it also shuts down the maternal 
factors that are still present in the cells. This is equivalent to the teenage rebellion of the embryo, 
where it begins to take over fundamental processes for itself and disregards that parental guidance.
But what flicks that switch? There are a few hypotheses in the field, but as yet none are sufficient 
to explain what triggers this activation of the embryonic genome.
Let’s change gears for just one second and talk about DNA. Geneticists love to mention that every 
cell in your body contains two metres of DNA, but how does it fit? Imagine you have two metres of 
wool – what is the most efficient way to store it so that you can still use it, without it tangling? Rolling 
it into a ball, of course. And in much the same way, this is how your DNA is packed into your cells. 
The way that it is rolled up is really important for its function, because when two sections of DNA 
interact that can affect the expression of different genes.
So back to fertilisation – you have two separate sets of DNA coming together, jostling about and 
cooperating to form one whole new organism. We think that once the genome is ready and has 
folded up into the right shape, genes can be expressed and therefore the embryo can take control 
of its own fate.
My research aims to look at the shape of DNA both before and after it becomes active, to see how 
and where it changes, and how this affects its function. Not only will this reveal insights into a 
fundamental biological process, but it may also help us to fill in some gaps around the mysteries of 
infertility and certain human diseases. This project is asking a big, basic question about the origins 
our independence, but as Ferris once said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around 
once in a while, you could miss it.”
Jo and I both interpreted this switch as an analogy for flowering, blossoming or transforming into 
an awakened state, likened to that of a child transitioning to adulthood. The painting All for Love of 
Australian lantana, is very much like a flowering hydrangea, and both plants carry personal nostalgic 
significance to both scientist and artist. We used this painting as a backdrop for a projected animation 
of a “popcorn fish” undergoing this transition – popcorn was used to represent the developing 
embryo, which burst into colour and life at the transition from maternal to embryonic control. With 
this animation, representing an individual fish, projected onto a circular print of Jo’s All for Love 
painting, the effect was of a spotlight on an independent organism undergoing a transition on the 
background of a Petri dish. The lantana not only resemble other embryos visually, but also hint at 
the blossoming transition being undertaken.
90 Junctures 18, December 2017
Amy Dowdle: The topic of my PhD is developmental genetics; specifically, I aim to gain novel insights 
into genome activation from studying nuclear structure. I hypothesise that formation of a three-
dimensional, transcriptionally competent genome is the trigger for genome activation following 
conception of a zygote. This project requires imaging zebrafish embryos at various stages to map 
the changes in nuclear structure, in conjunction with a HiC experiment to capture interactions 
occurring throughout early development.
Previously of Dunedin, currently based in Brisbane, Australia, painter and multi-disciplinary artist Jo 
St Baker is working on projects that blur the boundaries of multiple art genres. Along with her busy 
arts practice, she is director and curator of the studio + venue creative art space,  Mon Komo Hotel, 
Redcliffe. Jo’s sculptural work The Sandmen  is a finalist in the touring Queensland Regional Art Award 
and she is currently back in New Zealand for a two-month residency at the Dunedin School of Art.


English

Awakening

Whitefield, Katie

19Junctures 18, December 2017
KATIE WHITEFIELD
The Perils of Data Transfer: Error Detection and 
Correction in Genetics and Computing
This article arose as a consequence of a conversation started between my mother and myself 
regarding the Above the Threshold installation for the Art and Genetics Exhibition. In attempts 
to explain what she was doing and some of the theory behind it, we started a dialogue about the 
similarities of DNA as a code and my experiences as a computer programmer working with code.
The implications of erroneous data transfer or copying in both genetics and computing are potentially 
disastrous. Mistakes in DNA replication can be fatal or lead to disease whereas corrupted data can 
range from complete data loss to data being unknowingly overwritten. The importance of identifying 
errors as they are transferred from one location to another is therefore paramount. Computer 
scientists have developed techniques to detect and correct errors in data transmission, which seem 
to mimic the commonly occurring methodologies that nature employs.1
Data needs to be transferred for a plethora of reasons. The Internet and all associated networking 
equipment rely on it; it is the means through which computers can “talk” to other computers or 
networks. Data can even be transmitted internally within a device, such as when random access 
memory (RAM) sends data to a processor. In nature, DNA needs to replicate to allow cell replication, 
not only to allow generational reproduction but also survival. The replication process is happening 
constantly in every cell of a human body simply so it continues to live. DNA also needs to transfer 
data so proteins can be produced, which are necessary for the structure and function in living 
tissue and organs.
Different strategies have emerged from nature to allow for accurate replication and transcription 
of DNA. The code for DNA is contained within the sequence of four nucleotide bases - thymine, 
cytosine, adenine, and guanine, commonly referenced as T, C, A, and G. In both replication of DNA, 
and transcription of DNA to mRNA, one strand directly correlates to another. Translation of mRNA 
to form a string of amino acids occurs using triplet coding and allows for some redundancy in the 
third base of each codon. In computer programming, instead of four bases, a unit of information is 
expressed as either a 1 or a 0, known as a bit. Aggregated series of bits are sent and received in 
various operations in computing systems. Computer scientists construct rules to try to account for 
errors during data transmission.
20 Junctures 18, December 2017
In computing, one of the simplest methods of error detection is the inclusion of a parity bit. A parity 
bit is an additional bit that is added to a sequence of bits used to detect whether an error has 
occurred. An even or odd parity scheme is agreed. Given seven binary bits, an eighth bit is added 
that makes the sum of all the 1’s in the sequence even or odd. For example, using an even parity 
bit, a sequence of 0100110 results in an additional 1 as the eighth bit, making a sum of an even 
number of 1’s: four. This data is then transmitted and checked at the other end. To detect an 
error, the number of 1’s are compared to the parity bit; if the number is still even, then the result is 
correct. However, if the sequence comes through as say 00001101, then the number of 1’s sum 
to three, despite the parity bit indicating that the sum should be even. Hence, this discrepancy 
between how many 1’s there are and how many the parity bit state, indicate an error.
Parity bit checking was widely used for its simplicity and ease of implementation, but is by no means 
a foolproof means of error detection. If either two, four, or six bits flip (or even the parity bit itself) 
in the data transmission, then the parity bit would read as correct even though there were multiple 
errors in the transmission.
Repetition is another technique programmers use that involves sending the same bits multiple 
times, and if the grouped bits are not all the same, an error is detected. If the sequence 
10110001 was to be sent, then this sequence would be sent as 111 000 111 111 000 000 000 
111. A binary triplet read as 101 would mean an error has occurred. The majority of binary bits in 
the triplet that are the same could then correct the error so the triplet 101 would assume to 
translate to 1. This technique means the amount of data necessary to transfer might be trebled 
and is certainly not a scalable solution. Repetition may be able to detect the odd bit that is 
erroneous but longer sequences of wrong bits, called burst errors, would not be flagged.
Richard W. Hamming developed a much more efficient form of error correction in the 1940s.2 
Hamming codes use parity bits that indicate whether a small group of bits are correct. Due to the 
overlaps of which parity bits correspond to which data bits (calculated from an algorithm), a bit flip 
can not only be detected, but also corrected. They are highly effective at detecting one off errors but 
are not robust against burst errors. Hamming codes still have practical applications today, where 
an extended version of it is commonly used in memory storage.
DNA is a molecule comprised of two intertwining sugar phosphate backbones, the one strand 
bonded to the other through nitrogenous base pairs. When DNA is replicated, its famous double 
helix structure is unravelled into two strands. Because each of the four bases only couples with 
another specific base, each strand on its own contains enough information to recreate its 
corresponding strand. During replication, the enzyme DNA polymerase can thus move along each 
strand and add the correct base. The replication process does get approximately one in one 
billion nucleotides incorrect.3 DNA polymerase also engages a proofreading phase, where it 
checks the base pairs are matched correctly. It is similar to a Hamming code being able to 
determine and flip an incorrect bit if it is reading off the template strand but also shares the same 
problem in that a ‘burst error’ along the strand would not be able to be corrected by the DNA 
polymerase.
During protein synthesis, after a DNA strand has been unzipped and transcribed into messenger 
RNA, the mRNA is rendered into a string of amino acids by a matching process called translation. 
Three bases from the mRNA strand are read together and correspond to a specific amino acid. 
21Junctures 18, December 2017
There are 64 possible combinations of codons, yet they only match to 20 amino acids and one 
stop signature. This method of translation uses the same ploy of redundancy that data 
transmission does in order to get the desired result. The aforementioned replication technique in 
computing, where the triplet binaries 101, 110, 011, and 111 would all map to a 1, is similar to 
mRNA translation. For example: the amino acid glycine is coded by the triplet codons GGT, GGC, 
GGA, and GGG. Thus an error in the last base would still result in the same amino acid, and is 
known as the “wobble effect.”4 
When an error fails to be detected in either genetics or data transmission, then in both 
instances the error will persist and be unable to be observed by future detection systems. Using 
a simplistic example: 10011100 is transferred (where the last bit is a parity bit using an even 
scheme) and received as 11111100. No error is detected from this transmission and if this data 
is then stored on the receiving system every time it is read or transferred it will contain an error. 
When an error happens in DNA replication it can be even more disastrous and lead to 
deleterious effects or be fatal. Error correction systems then clearly need to be extremely reliable 
and consistent.
The timeline of the development of error detection and correction in data transmission came 
clearly before our understanding of how DNA replicates itself and creates proteins. However, the 
techniques developed for error correction in computer and DNA data transmission, whilst clearly 
different in implementation details, share a rather striking similarity in approach. The addition of 
redundancy of information, as well as a proofreading phase in which errors can be amended, are 
core methods of error correction in both data transmission systems and genetics. As humans 
we endeavour to develop the best strategies for problems, such as error rates in transmission, but 
our solutions seem to unknowingly lean towards those that the natural world already applies.
Katie White ield graduated with a BSc in 2013 and continued on to gain a Post Graduate Diploma in Computer 
Science from Otago University in 2014. Currently she is a programmer and mobile app developer for the BBC in 
London.
1. Thomas Thompson, Error-Correcting Codes Through
Sphere Packings to Simple Groups (Washington:
The Mathematical Association of America, 1983), 
vii. Subsequent mathematical methods of encoding
messages to ensure correctness when transmitted over 
noisy channels led to discoveries of extremely efficient 
lattice packings of equal-radius balls, especially in
24-dimensional space. In turn, this highly symmetric 
lattice, with each point neighbouring exactly 196,560 
other points, suggested the possible presence of new
simple groups as groups of symmetries. Indeed, new
groups were found and are now part of the "Enormous 
Theorem".
2. Ibid.
3. Lawrence Loeb, et al., “Multiple Mutations and Cancer,” 
Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 
Vol. 100 (1974): 776-781, http://
www.pnas.org/content/100/3/776.full.
4. Francis Crick, “Codon-Anticodon Pairing: The Wobble 
Hypothesis.” Journal of Molecular Biology Vol.19 (2)
(1996) 548-555, http://www.sciencedirect.com/
science/article/pii/S0022283666800220. 


The Perils of Data Transfer: Error Detection and Correction in Genetics and Computing

Wassenaar, Marion

Major, Tanya

48 Junctures 18, December 2017
MARION WASSENAAR WITH TANYA MAJOR
Ties That Bind
Gout is a serious health problem in Aotearoa, New Zealand. An increasing number of (mainly) New 
Zealand Māori and Pacific Island men are affected, with South Auckland now regarded as “the 
gout capital of the world”.1 Raising awareness of gout's causes and treatment options is essential 
to reducing the substantial burden it places on patients, their families, and communities in New 
Zealand. This Art and Genetics collaborative project was an opportunity to engage with the community 
in a new, creative way and spread the message that gout is a genetic disease that can be treated.
GOUT: THE HISTORY AND ScIENcE
Gout is a form of arthritis caused by a high concentration of urate in the blood. This urate forms tiny, 
needle-like crystals in the joints, which sporadically trigger an inflammatory response within these 
joints (known as a gout attack or flare). Gout attacks are so painful that sufferers are often unable 
to withstand the touch of a single bed sheet on the affected joint, and these attacks can last for 
several days or weeks. If left untreated, gout can destroy joints and lead to significant disability.2
The patient ... is awakened by a pain which usually seizes the great toe, but sometimes the heel ... 
or the ankle. The pain resembles that of a dislocated bone ... and ... grows gradually more violent 
every hour ... the parts affected ... become so exquisitely painful as not to endure the weight of 
the clothes nor the shaking of the room from a person walking briskly therein.
(Thomas Sydenham, 1683)3
Gout is an ancient disease. The medical notes of Hippocrates (400 BC) described gout as a severely 
painful disease, which medicine had no hope of curing.4 His notes also mentioned the tendency for 
gout to affect only wealthy men, who had access to large amounts of rich food or alcohol, and 
that attacks often struck after a period of over-indulgence.5 6 By the sixteenth century gout had 
become firmly associated with riches and “high living,”(from the Latin: “morbus dominorum et 
dominus morborum.”) and subsequently gout became known as the “disease of lords 
and lord of diseases,” an affliction of the wealthy.7 In the late eighteenth century and 
early nineteenth century satirical artworks, depicting a gouty individual proudly displaying 
their foot upon a footstool, whilst they ate and drank the foods that apparently caused their 
gouty attacks, became popular (Figure 1).8
49Junctures 18, December 2017
These satirical artworks mark the beginnings of a shift in attitude toward gout over time, moving 
away from being viewed as a marker of social status and wealth. The present-day notion of gout 
(amongst both patients and the general public) commonly reflects the idea that gout is caused by 
overindulging in food or alcohol, a self-inflicted disease. The term Schadenfreude comes to mind, 
with the uninformed public appearing to take pleasure in the pain of the gout patient. This perception 
of gout has led to a common feeling amongst gout patients that they should be ashamed of, or 
are being blamed for, their condition.
Contrary to the beliefs of the general public gout is an inherited condition, which is primarily caused 
by a person’s genetic make-up. Someone with a family history of gout is twice as likely to develop gout 
compared to someone with no family history of gout.9 Gout researchers today, such as Tanya Major, 
are keen to dispel the negative stereotype of 
gout as a self-inflicted, shameful illness and to 
raise awareness of the uncontrollable genetic 
factors that contribute to gout, along with 
spreading the message that gout is treatable.
The research undertaken by Major and 
her colleagues in the Merriman Laboratory 
(Department of Biochemistry) at the University 
of Otago has come a long way in recent years 
in identifying the specific genes that are 
associated with gout and in sharing these 
findings with gout patients and the general 
public. At present, Major’s research is focused 
on searching whole-genome (all of a person’s 
genes / DNA) data from over 2,000 Māori 
/ Pacifika people and over 2,000 European 
people from Aotearoa, New Zealand, to find 
more genes that influence gout. This genetic 
analysis technique is called a Genome-Wide 
Association Study (GWAS). Her aim is to 
understand how these genes cause gout, and 
how they might change a person’s symptoms 
or response to treatment, with the goal of 
improving the lives of people with gout.
BEETHOvEN’S NINTH WITH SYMPATHY
In response to Major’s research, our initial ideas for producing an artwork for the Art and Genetics 
exhibition were inspired by Gustav Klimt’s Beethoven Frieze. Klimt’s work was originally presented 
at the 14th Viennese Secession group exhibition in 1902.10 Drawn to this work after discovering that 
Beethoven suffered from gout,11 the knight in armour appeared in the frieze envisaged as the gout 
sufferer, who deals with the negative stigma of gout by hiding his affliction behind his armour. The 
frieze is regarded as a visual representation of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and consists of three 
large murals painted directly on the wall and covering three adjoining walls of the exhibition space.
Figure 1. E Y Esquire and George Hunt, An Exquisite Taste, With 
An Enlarged Understanding, 1827, aquatint with watercolour; 
platemark, 25.5 x 37.4 cm. (McLean & Co., London). Sourced 
from Wellcome Images under the Creative Commons Attribution 
4.0 licence.
50 Junctures 18, December 2017
The first wall is said to portray a longing for happiness in a turbulent world where one contends, not 
only with external hostility, but also with internal weakness.12 The knight is positioned on this wall 
with his body in profile, facing the middle wall that depicts antagonistic forces. In positioning the 
knight as the gout sufferer, this warrior figure faces a tough battle ahead. The gout sufferer must 
deal with the physical pain and disability of gout attacks, whilst also being confronted with feelings 
of self-blame and shame for their gout diagnosis, which is reinforced by the lack of understanding 
from the general public, who see gout as an easily avoidable condition associated with an indulgent 
lifestyle. The suit of armour offers external protection, yet disguises the emotional, internal pain that 
affects the gout sufferer and creates a sense of anonymity and distance that may hide their shame.
External and internal conflict, manifesting 
as the prejudice endured by gout patients 
with their unspoken and needless 
humiliation, led to a social and ethical 
approach to the artwork that engages with 
the concept of alienation. This is defined as 
a state of being detached and can refer to 
how people are excluded or isolated due to 
barriers in (for example) language, culture, 
religion, social disposition, sexuality, or 
political views.13 The familiar is valued, 
while foreign conditions are treated with 
suspicion. The negative stigma associated 
with gout could be seen as a form of 
alienation elicited through the ridicule and 
harassment that gout sufferers endure. 
As Major’s research shows and promotes, 
gout is a genetic disease and does not 
warrant the negative stereotyping it has 
long received. 
The artwork, Ties That Bind, seeks to 
address the notion of alienation stemming 
from the lack of understanding about gout, 
that reflects a sympathetic and personal 
response to the research. While family 
ties are present within the repeating pattern of clasped hands between parent and child depicted 
in the background layer, alienation is expressed through repetition, layering, and separation, with 
the interruption of a crowd scene fractured within the work. Three layers of glass in each of the 
four framed works provide a surface in which to build up transparent screen-printed images of the 
crowd and the ominous gouty hand. The crowd scene is able to convey anonymity and the potential 
for any one of us to inherit the gout genes. Another screen-printed layer on the works illustrates the 
way large amounts of data are analysed by Major in her quantitative research, through the Genome 
Wide Association Study (GWAS). Reflective, mirrored surfaces created by the stencil of the gouty 
hand and the computer hard drives elicit a desire for self-awareness through knowledge and the 
value of education surrounding scientific research. 
Figure 2. Marion Wassenaar, Ties That Bind, 2017, mixed media, 
four framed works, 34 x 26cm each. Installation view at HD Skinner 
Annex, Otago Museum, Dunedin.
51Junctures 18, December 2017
Working with Major on this project has given me a 
greater understanding of gout and the misconceptions 
surrounding the disease. However, I could see that 
what she wanted from this collaboration was an 
appeal to raise awareness about the genetic link to 
gout. As such, I wanted to produce giveaway, screen-
printed posters to complement my four framed works, 
Ties That Bind. My intention for the posters was to 
communicate a clear and direct message about the 
link between gout and genes, and as a giveaway 
poster, this message would hopefully circulate through 
a wider audience.
GOUT IS IN YOUR GENES. WHY DON’T 
WE TALK ABOUT IT ... WHY DON’T WE 
TALK ABOUT IT!
This collaborative project represented an opportunity 
to explore the experience of the gout sufferer through 
art. The use of art as a medium to spark conversation 
about gout is not a new concept, but this project has 
Figure 4. Marion Wassenaar, Gout is in your Genes, 
2017, screenprint, 29.7 x 42.0cm. Installation view at 
HD Skinner Annex, Otago Museum, Dunedin.
Figure 3. Marion Wassenaar, Ties That Bind, detail, 2017, mixed media.
52 Junctures 18, December 2017
allowed the creation of an artwork that inspires sympathy and understanding, where previously 
satirical artworks have encouraged misconceptions about gout and ridicule of sufferers. The 
abstraction of the concept of alienation and exclusion within the four framed works of Ties That 
Bind encourages the observer to question their current beliefs and attitudes toward gout, whilst the 
screen-printed giveaway poster complements the more abstract work with a clear, concise message 
promoting awareness of the genetic contribution to gout. In our view, this project has achieved the 
separate aims we each set out to fulfill and produced a thought-provoking work of art.
Tanya Major is a postdoctoral fellow in the Merriman Research Group, studying the genetics of gout and related 
diseases.
Marion Wassenaar is an artist and lectures in the Print Studio at the Dunedin School of Art.
1. Doone Winnard, et al., “Debunking the Myths to Provide 
21st Century Management of Gout,” Journal of the
New Zealand Medical Association, Vol. 121 No. 1274 
(2008) 79-85.
2. Karen Lindsay et al., “The Experience and Impact of 
Living with Gout: A Study of Men with Chronic Gout using 
a Qualitative Grounded Theory Approach,” JCR: Journal of
Clinical Rheumatology, Vol. 17 No. 1 (2011) 1-6.
3. Thomas Sydenham, Tractatus de Podagra et Hydrope 
(London: G Kettilby, 1683).
4. Shom Bhattacharjee, “A Brief History of Gout,”
International Journal of Rheumatic Diseases, Vol. 12
No. 1 (2009) 61-63.
5. George Nuki, and Peter Simkin, “A Concise History of 
Gout and Hyperuricemia and their Treatment,” Arthritis 
Research & Therapy, Vol. 8 Suppl. 1 (2006) S1-S5.
6. Roy Porter, and George Rousseau, Gout: The Patrician
Malady (Great Britain: Yale University Press; 1998).
7. Martina Scholtens, “The Glorification of Gout in 16th- to 
18th-Century Literature,” Canadian Medical Association 
Journal, Vol. 179 No. 8 (2008) 804-805.
8. Peter Gow, et al., “Societal and Cultural Attitudes to 
Gout: An Important Consideration in the Successful 
Management of Gout Among Maori in Aotearoa, New 
Zealand,” Current Rheumatology Reviews, Vol. 7 No. 2
(2011) 170-180.
9. Chang-Fu Kuo, et al., “Familial Aggregation of Gout and 
Relative Genetic and Environmental Contributions: A
Nationwide Population Study in Taiwan,” Annals of the
Rheumatic Diseases, Vol. 74 No. 2, (2015) 369-374.
10. Peter Vergo, “Gustav Klimt’s Beethoven Frieze,” The 
Burlington Magazine, Vol. 115 No. 839 (1973) 109-113.
11. Thomas Palferman, “Beethoven’s Medical History: 
Variations on a Rheumatological Theme,” Journal of
the Royal Society of Medicine, Vol. 83 No. 10 (1990)
640-645.
12. Susanna Partsch, Klimt: Life and Work (Munich: I.P. 
Verlagsgesellschaft, 1993) 319.
13. Collins English Dictionary, s.v. “alienation,” https://www.
collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/english/alienation.


Ties That Bind

Griffiths, Megan

91Junctures 18, December 2017
MEGAN GRIFFITHS
Who Am I?
As a guest exhibitor, I did not work directly with a scientist on the Art and Genetics project. This 
artwork was originally conceived as part of my third year Batchelor’s degree exhibition.
In October 2011 while living in Christchurch, I had an early morning phone call from my father, who 
lived in Dunedin. He was extremely upset and crying, which was very unusual for him, talking about 
an incident that had happened the previous day when he had visited his doctor. This both surprised 
and alarmed me as he had spoken to me after the doctor’s visit, saying the doctor said he was fit 
as a fiddle and I wouldn’t be seeing my inheritance any time soon – an ongoing joke between the 
two of us. I immediately left for Dunedin, and arrived to find him still upset but really unable to give 
me any further details of what had taken place.
I contacted his doctor and asked to see her. At that appointment, I explained what had happened 
and asked her what she knew of the incident. To my absolute surprise she said the incident hadn’t 
happened, and the doctor in question wasn’t even in New Zealand. This was my welcome to the 
world of Alzheimer’s disease. 
After further specialist testing, a diagnosis was given of Alzheimer’s disease and dementia with Lewy 
bodies as well as delusions. However, by the time his Alzheimer’s was picked up he was beyond 
understanding, and refused to believe the diagnosis, leading to paranoia about all aspects of his life.
As a child in Invercargill my father had been IQ tested, with the result that he was in the genius 
category. After his death, while I was studying for my Batchelor of Visual Arts in textiles, which I 
focused on Alzheimer’s disease, I read Aging with Grace: What the Nun Study Teaches Us about 
Leading Longer, Healthier, and More Meaningful Lives by David Snowdon. His research looked 
at the ability of subjects to use language descriptively at an early age and how badly Alzheimer’s 
affected them later on. For example, two nuns of the same age and education and growing up in 
the same environment may show different signs of the disease – one with minor and the other with 
major symptoms. However, brain autopsy after death may show that both had the same amount of 
physical damage in the brain. The nun who was shown to have used language more descriptively 
early in life is believed to have greater reserves – a stronger brain that was more efficient and more 
flexible, and therefore able to make compensations as cells die.1 For me, this explained how it had 
taken so long for anyone to realise that something was really wrong.
92 Junctures 18, December 2017
Translated into English – as Alzheimer’s disease progresses, the brain shrinks, and tangles move 
through the brain, breaking off connections and killing cells. While there is no magic medication 
to either stop this or relink cells, some people seem to have more immunity than others as to how 
long it takes the disease to affect them. 
In Who am I? I have used a jigsaw as an analogy for declining recognition and decreasing abilities, 
the actuality of physically being unable to put a jigsaw together as the disease progresses. The 
jigsaw idea was 'happenstance'. A friend showed me a quilt made up of fabric jigsaw pieces, and 
I suddenly saw how this could be used as a metaphor for Alzheimer’s disease. While this project 
is personal for me, it reaches out to a wider audience, many of whom will know someone with one 
of these conditions. 
This piece is made out of five identical but separate jigsaw puzzles, made from woven synthetic fabric, 
glued to acrylic and laser-cut into pieces. Each puzzle was assembled separately, and rearranged 
to get the progressive fragmentation, then joined together into one large puzzle. There are a total 
of 1235 separate puzzle pieces. 
While early-onset Alzheimer’s disease (familial Alzheimer’s disease) is considered to be a genetic 
disorder, the cause of late-onset Alzheimer’s disease is not yet well understood, as it is likely a 
combination of genetic, environmental, and lifestyle factors that affect a person’s risk for developing 
the disease. Ongoing work at molecular level hopes to unravel the mechanisms of this disease.
In 2016, Megan Griffiths graduated from the Dunedin School of Art with an Honours degree in visual arts
(textiles). This was the cumulation of more than 30 years of working in textiles, starting with embroidery, then
patchwork and moving into fibre art. Megan continues to work with these techniques and uses her art school
knowledge to create unique pieces of fibre art.
1. David Snowdon, Aging with Grace: What the Nun Study 
Teaches Us about Leading Longer, Healthier, and More 
Meaningful Lives (New York: Bantam, 2001), 45.
Figure 1. Megan Griffiths, Who am I? (2015), synthetic fabric, acrylic, 196cm x 60cm.


Who Am I?

Mazumdar, Pravu

The Dual Matrix of Life: On Genetic Science, Art and the Truth Games of the “Third Culture”

Stupples, Peter

Editorial: Genetics

Parthasarathy, Padmini

68 Junctures 18, December 2017
PADMINI PARTHASARATHY
Exploring Genetic Cues to Solve the Gout Mystery
What strikes most of us when someone says ‘crystal’ is probably a pleasant adjective like beautiful, 
pure or exquisite. Unfortunately, a gout patient is more likely to perceive it as painful, sore, tender or 
aching! Gout, referred to as the urate crystal deposition disease, is a painful inflammatory arthritis 
that can drop the quality of life of affected individuals and restrict them to a wheelchair if not treated 
on time. In fact, gout was described as "the unwalkable disease" way back in the fifth century BC.1
Acute gouty arthritis is characterized by severe pain, redness, tenderness, heat and swelling of the 
affected joint(s), causing restricted joint mobility. Formation of large crystal deposits called "tophi", 
observed in chronic gout, can cause irreparable damage to the joints and lead to joint 
disability. Joints at the extremities of the body (fingers and toes) are commonly affected.
The basic pathophysiological feature of gout is the deposition of monosodium urate crystals in the 
synovial fluid of the joints following longstanding hyperuricemia. Hyperuricemia is described as the 
presence of higher than normal level of serum urate. It results from a compromise in the delicate 
balance between the production and excretion of uric acid in the body, primarily in the liver and 
the kidneys, respectively. Hyperuricemia is an essential although not sufficient parameter for 
gout.2
Hyperuricemia and gout are complex traits. A number of genetic loci and gene-
environment interactions together confer risk to develop these traits. The key environmental 
risk factors that can trigger gout flares include alcohol consumption and a high intake of purine-
rich foods (meat and sea-foods).3
On the other hand, at least 28 genomic loci that potentially contain variants affecting serum 
urate concentration have been identified by genome-wide association studies.4 One such critically 
important region that has been identified is the SLC2A9 locus located on chromosome 4 of the 
human genome. It turns out to be a major locus that strongly influences serum urate 
concentration in the body, which is not surprising given that the SLC2A9 gene encodes a uric 
acid transporter protein.5
Population-specific genetic effects are evident in the case of hyperuricemia and gout.. It is 
interesting and obvious to us that the population we belong to does influence our appearance. 
But, what is more interesting and less obvious is that it also dictates whether or not we are  
69Junctures 18, December 2017
susceptible to certain diseases. The presence/absence of certain genetic variants (single 
nucleotide polymorphisms) in a population predisposes the population to hyperuricemia, and 
hence gout.
Gout is highly prevalent in the New Zealand Māori and Pacific (Polynesian) peoples, and my 
research attempts to understand the reason for this increased prevalence. My research therefore 
focuses on the identification of population-specific genetic variants within the SLC2A9 locus that 
are associated with hyperuricemia specifically in the Polynesian people.
This research will of course provide a greater insight into the genetic causes of gout but, 
more importantly, the identification of penetrant variants could be applied in 
precision medicine and public health genomics to improve health outcomes for the target 
population.
Padmini Parthasarathy is a Research Masters student in the department of Biochemisty at the 
University of Otago.
1. George Nuki and P A Simkin, “A Concise History of 
Gout and Hyperuricemia and Their Treatment,” Arthritis 
Research & Therapy 2006, Vol. 8 (Suppl 1) S3.
2. Tony Merriman, “An Update on the Genetic Architecture of 
Hyperuricemia and Gout,” Arthritis Research & Therapy
Vol. 17 (2015) 98.
3. Phillip Robinson and Simon Horsburgh, “Gout: Joints and 
Beyond, Epidemiology, Clinical Features, Treatment and 
Co-Morbidities.” Maturitas, Vol. 78 (2014) 245–251.
4. Anna Köttgen, et al., “Genome-Wide Association
Analyses Identify 18 New Loci Associated with Serum 
Urate Concentrations.” Nature Genetics, Vol. 45 (2013)
145-154. 
5. Asim Mandal and D B Mount, “The Molecular Physiology 
of Uric Acid Homeostasis.” The Annual Review of 
Physiology, Vol.77 (2015) 323-345. 


Exploring Genetic Cues to Solve the Gout Mystery

This contribution to the Art and Light Project emerged from a science/art collaboration with Janice Lord, plant evolutionary biologist and senior lecturer in the Department of Botany at the University of Otago. A hut book entry led to Janice’s nighttime fieldwork, which revealed the Campbell Island weta’s “novel and unexpected” nocturnal contribution to biotic pollination of subantarctic megaherbs

Pearce, Sue

Lord, Dr Janice

58 Junctures 16, December 2013-15
SUE PEARCE AND JANICE LORD
Surface: Selective Observation of Data in a 
Subantarctic Landscape
This contribution to the Art and Light Project emerged from a science/art collaboration with Janice 
Lord, plant evolutionary biologist and senior lecturer in the Department of Botany at the University 
of Otago. A series of conversations, in which Janice outlined her research on the pollination of the 
megaherbs on Campbell Island, began our affiliation. A hut book entry led to Janice’s nighttime 
fieldwork, which revealed the Campbell Island weta’s “novel and unexpected” nocturnal contribution 
to biotic pollination of subantarctic megaherbs. This instance of chance observation, leading to 
valuable research, instigated the project and made me think about connections between science 
and the arts.
My first response to the subject matter was to create a series of images of the windswept Campbell 
Island landscape from Janice’s photographs. Although sensorially deprived, without the feelings, 
the smell of earth or sound and movement of the actual setting, I worked solely from photographs, 
slowly processing my relationship to the environment. The work picked up again when close-up 
photographs provided a better sense of the textural details of the megaherbs. Refocusing my 
research, I cropped geographical features from the photographs and mapped a small area of the 
megaherb field, subdividing Campbell Island into “plots” (Figure 1). Cropping the photo was a way 
of considering the landscape as ground and values other than the picturesque. Sampling from 
within this plot, and having in mind the effects of light, I explored how I might represent this in paint. 
Figure 1. Campbell Island Research Area.
59Junctures 16, December 2013-15
Working with white on black (Figure 2) to represent how the herbfield might appear at night, when 
the pollinators are out and about, I experimented with the fluid qualities of paint. Pouring and tilting 
the paper formed infinitesimally thin layers of paint and contrasted with drawn lines. In this manner, 
I extrapolated my sample data through painting. 
Alongside the Art and Light Project, I worked on another project located within the Native Plants 
Collection at the Dunedin Botanic Garden. The methodology I was exploring within the Art and Light 
Project in turn influenced my work at the Botanic Garden. For the Botanic Garden project, in addition 
to setting up a sample grid, I photographed at night, on a long exposure lit with a torch. In this way, 
the action of shining a torch over selected parts of each plot created variations in light intensity, with 
partially lit areas and others concentrated into “pools” of light. This approach registered a different 
reading of the landscape, both revealing and obscuring the textured ground. The contrast between 
light and dark became the focus of the work. The resulting painting, Surface, is shown in Figure 3. 
Scientists and artists can be said to “see” differently. The reliance on observation in both science 
and art is dependent, for example, on context and perceptual awareness. Theodore Schick relays the 
story of Karl Popper asking physics students to “take out pencil and paper, carefully observe and write 
down what you have observed.”1 Without a context, direction or a thesis statement, the students did 
not know what to record. Should it be everything? Where to start? Scientific methodology provides 
a structured approach, focusing research within a body of scientific knowledge, with hypotheses 
tested against the observable, measurable world. Over time, there have developed differing focuses 
and conventions regarding how the world is observed and recorded within both art and science. 
Figure 2. Campbell Island 1, 2015, acrylic and black gesso on paper, 945 mm x 1350 mm.
60 Junctures 16, December 2013-15
The history of botanical art provides an example of how observation is selective, being reliant on the 
eyes and context of the observer. Prior to methodology and direct observation being valued in science, 
early-fifteenth-century plant illustrations were “rudimentary stylised”2 depictions of real plants. In the 
eighteenth century, the development of a structure of plant identification—taxonomy—privileged text 
over images and, as a result, images were regarded as of lesser value. In contemporary botanical 
art, hand-drawn illustrations are preferred to photographs as a resource for identification, as they 
“show more detail with more precision than any photograph.”3 Certain details of plants necessary 
for identification are not easily photographed. 
Interfaces and boundaries between discourses provide opportunities for reinterpretation. Reflecting 
on her collaboration with artists for the Art and Light Project, Janice Lord spoke about how the 
experience made her re-examine what she did and stimulated her to think in different ways.  Both 
science and art rely on empirical research. Both fields of practice involve meticulous fieldwork. 
Figure 3. Surface, 2015, acrylic, white chalk and black gesso on paper, 2550mm x 2400mm.
61Junctures 16, December 2013-15
As Elizabeth Potter states in Feminism and Philosophy of Science: An Introduction, “the use of 
contextual values in science and bias can be both legitimate and value laden research but can still 
be good science.”4 
The subjective depictions I worked on were based on a sampling of the Campbell Island landscape 
and are antithetical to botanical drawing. The final work attempts to capture something in paint 
extrapolated from my initial mapping of the ground in an attempt to show my connection to what 
I am seeing.
Sue Pearce is in her first year as a Masters of Fine Arts candidate at the Dunedin School of Art. 
Within her drawing practice, she works with the chaotic movement and fluidity of paint to represent 
textural surfaces alluding to her relationship to the ground.
Janice Lord is a curator of the Otago Herbarium housed in the Department of Botany at the 
University of Otago and a plant evolutionary biologist with interests in plant reproductive strategies 
and traditional uses of plants by Māori. 
1. Schick, Theodore and Lewis Vaughn, How to Think About 
Weird Things: Critical Thinking for a New Age (New York, 
San Fransisco & Toronto: McGraw Hill, 2005) 179.
2. Saunders, Gill, Picturing Plants. An Analytical History of 
Botanical Illustration (Berkley, Los Angeles: University of 
California Press, 1995) 9.
3. Douglas Holland “Picturing Plants Through History” 
in Catherine Howell, ed., Flora Mirabilis. How Plants 
have Shaped World Knowledge, Health, Wealth and 
Beauty. An Illustrated Timeline, (Washington: National 
Geographic Society: 2009) 12-13.
4. Elizabeth Potter, Feminism and Philosophy of Science: An 
Introduction (Abingdon: Routledge, 2006).


Surface: Selective Observation of Data in a Subantarctic Landscape

Keller, Christine

McKinlay, Pam

Hutchinson, David

Recipe for a Star: The Interstellar Medium and the Supernova Feedback Loop

McKay, Sarah

Hulbe, Christina

55Junctures 17, December 2016
SARAH MCKAY WITH PROFESSOR CHRISTINA HULBE
Antarctica
Antarctica is the vast continent at the bottom of the world. It is extremely isolated, not only 
geographically, by its distance from any other land mass, but also because of its long dark winter, cold 
temperatures, ice covered landscape, snow storms and driving winds. I have always been curiously 
drawn towards it. There is so much to discover and explore in a space still relatively unknown.
I worked with Professor Christina Hulbe, Dean of the Otago University School of Surveying, for the 
Art and Space Project. Christina is conducting research on the Polar Ice sheets, on the changes 
that have occurred in the past and those that are happening now.1 Her recent work is based on 
the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica. She is the lead scientist in an international team in a New Zealand 
Antarctic Research Institute-funded programme that is examining the history of the stability of 
Figure 1. Anarctica Ice Flow Charted from Space/Differentially-Scaled Ice Velocity. NASA/Goddard Space Flight Center, 
Scientific Visualtion Studio, Trent Schindler, Lead Animator, 18 August 2011.
56 Junctures 17, December 2016
the shelf. The ice shelf is a floating extension of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet and is vulnerable to 
climate change. The project involves drilling through the shelf to observe the ice, the hidden ocean 
beneath and drilling into the sediment below to determine its condition and stability.2  This gives 
some insight into how the ice shelf has acted previously, and how it will behave in the future, as the 
earth continues to warm and becomes affected by the greater rate of climate change. I found this 
research concept fascinating and started thinking of how looking into the past, seeing beneath the 
surface, can enable insights into the future.
When Christina introduced me to her work, I became aware of the importance of mapping. It is 
where our understanding begins by looking and studying contemporary maps of Antarctica. These 
maps are produced from space, directly above the continent, using a range of wavelengths to give 
multiple views of the surface of Antarctica, the land structure, the surface height, the temperature 
and its variation around the continent, the weather patterns. Repeated over and over, they become 
a time lapse of the land and its changes. These maps provide a framwork of information that enable 
scientists to analyse the patterns and natural systems around the continent. With the aid of a range 
of maps we can trace the ice flow, the forms and patterns that run in the ice as it moves. They show 
changes that are occurring in the ice over time that would otherwise be invisible to the naked eye. 
On the ice all you see is this vast white wilderness (space) that continually extends from where you 
stand. You can not appreciate the movement as the ice pushes its way forward, streaming slowly 
out towards the edge.
It was the movement of the ice that I found interesting, the way it causes changes in the ice sheet, 
what those changes are and why they occur, but also the significance they have had and might have 
in the future. Research is helping to inform us, through understanding the past, to discover what 
impact the world’s climate has on the longevity of the ice shelves, with ocean levels rising and falling, 
Figure 2. Christina Hulbe, The Ross Ice Shelf.
57Junctures 17, December 2016
with the ice shelves melting and freezing, and the speed and progression of the ice flowing out into 
the seas and oceans surrounding them. I discovered that the ice shelves have a certain fragility. 
As the thickness of the ice changes, due to the flow of ice, changing temperatures and shifting sea 
levels, the ice shelves, and Antarctica itself, are rendered unstable.
I think that Antarctica is one of the most beautiful places in the world. There seems to be nothing 
there but at the same time so much there. It has a romantic isolation that I’ve always wanted to 
experience. I want to feel the silence of it, knowing, at the same time, that it is never truly silent, 
that the land speaks. I love it because it is one of the few places that is almost untouched by the 
human world and I’ve always felt that this aspect of its isolation and location needs to be protected. 
It needs to stay removed from the human world, with its human presence limited to scientists and 
research teams,3 and with everything done to minimise the effect of human interference on the 
continent. Antarctica has to exist in the way we know it now to give us a touchstone of truth about 
our world. Antarctica, being so removed from the rest of the world, holds the answer to what we are 
missing, what we need, and it needs to stay that way.
This is where the idea behind the individual stand-alone art pieces came from. It was that isolation 
and removal from any interaction with the human world, from everyone and everything around. 
Christina said that, in her own experience of Antarctica, she found a peacefulness that you could 
never photograph. That was something I wanted to be able show in the work to create the sense of 
its space, the dualities she spoke of, how it was both too big, but also felt small, that it was silent 
but full of the loudness of its own noise, how it was constantly in motion but a motion you do not 
feel, that is imperceptable as you stand there feeling as if you are going nowhere. I wanted to find 
a way to contain something that was expansive and incomprehensible, completely deceptive in 
scale and space.
Pieces that you look across the tops of but also have to look down into, a little like the ice and 
surface of Antarctica. I wanted them to have a nothingness, to be empty pillars when seen from a 
distance, until you approach them when they become something else, enticing. The different heights 
of the pillars were another way to engage people, of all ages, and to encourage them to physically 
interact with the pieces. When you approach the pillars you are obliged to stop, and to peer into the 
pillars and closely examine beneath the surface and beyond to the restricted depths. We see only a 
Figure 3. Sarah McKay, Contained, 2016, mixed media, glass, 
light, photography, 5 works, approx. 30cm x 30cm in surface 
dimensions but different heights, from 55cm to 115cm.
Figure 4. Sarah McKay, Contained, 2016, mixed media, glass, 
light, photography, detail of single glass plate.
58 Junctures 17, December 2016
fraction of what is actually there. The material within the pillars is based on the internal 
construction of a camera, in the way it works, what I can do to manipulate both the camera and 
the image; to find and locate an image that seems to have value, finding a link from the 
collective knowledge of past scientists’ research to inform and develop the work done now to 
understand something that is continually in a state of becoming.
I used photograpic images on the underside of the glass plates at the top of the finished pillars, 
and others inside the pillars at angles that descend to the base of them, reminding you of ice flow 
and descending depths. The photograpic images are based on photographs of shells that I found 
washed up from the sea and left behind by the tide. I chose the shells because I wanted a direct link 
to the ocean, to the sediments and the sea floor, to show just how close this is to us all. The ice goes 
into the ocean, the ocean that is only metres away from land we call home. I submerged the shells 
in water to photograph them. The image is distorted by the effect of the water on the shells’ inner 
surface, accentuated by the minimal amount of light that illuminates them only partially. The images 
resulted in enhancing the patterns of the shells’ inner surface and created a sense of movement, of 
flow. The colours, patterns, textures and movement, refer back to the maps used by the scientists 
to represent the surface of the ice flows, the speed and the depth of the ice and water. The lights 
hidden at the bottom of the pillars illuminate the glass from below, allowing light to show through the 
photographs where they are washed away. The lights show all the cracks of the surfaces through the 
washed away parts of the images. In places where more light is able to penetrate, it represents the 
fragility of the ice as it disintegrates. The cracks that appear in the images come from the pressure 
applied to the glass during the process of transferring the image to the glass surface. Parts of the 
images disintegrated under pressure, and were further weakened when subject to a stream of water, 
Figure 5. Sarah McKay, Contained, 2016, mixed media, glass, light, photography, detail of single glass plate.
59Junctures 17, December 2016
some also sliding off the edge. I wanted that temporal element of the process to come through in 
the resulting image. The images will continue to disintegrate the more water affects their surfaces. 
In the end, these glass images, submerged in water will disappear, and like the ice shelf they will 
disintegrate, become nothing, not a trace left. They will no longer exist.
Sarah McKay graduated from the Dunedin School of Art with a Bachelor of Arts (Hons) in Photography 
and Electronic Arts in 2015.
Christina Hulbe (School of Surveying, University of Otago). I am a geophysicist who studies how 
and why polar ice sheets change over time. While I got my start in a remote west Antarctic field 
camp, most of my research today is computational, using mathematical models and remote 
sensing to investigate modern systems and the recent past.
Figure 6. Sarah McKay, Contained, 2016, mixed media, glass, light, photography, detail of single glass plate.
1. University of Otago, Dr Christine Hulbe, Profile, http://
www.otago.ac.nz/surveying/staff/otago040901. html 
(accessed 28 November 2016).
2. “Science in Progress: Ross Ice Shelf Programme,”
Antartica New Zealand, http://www.antarcticanz.govt.
nz/science/our-science/science-in-progress/ (accesssed 
28 November 2016).
3. Nola Taylor Redd, “Antarctica: Facts About the Coldest 
Continent,” LiveScience, July 18, 2012, http://www.
livescience.com/21677-antarctica-facts.html (accesssed 
28 November 2016).


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