The Act of Seeing: Art and Science

Adi Berardini

There is an on-going debate around the importance of Science and rational thinking as opposed to artistic creating. I don’t deny that my cousin who studied computer science at the University of Waterloo makes fun of me since I attend art school. However, science and art are not so disparate since they both engage in the act of seeing. Although, simply viewing something and truly seeing are vastly different.

In the 14th century, physicians would notice that the victims of the bubonic plague had flea bites, but never made the connection that the plague was caused by a bacilli in the oriental rat flea. They blamed it on things such as astrological forces, the terrible habits of the less fortunate, and the sinful. It wasn’t until the 19th century when scientists and doctors began to make the connection between observing and diagnosing in an effective way.

My mother, who is a nurse by profession, explained to me that the medical student with the highest scores in our hometown went to art school and flourished since they had an extensive grasp on anatomy. When we view art, we largely ask ourselves the meaning through a similar concept of empirical evidence, gathering information from our perception, experience and senses. We understand by seeing.

The glitch is explored through the video work Processing Capacity by Kathryn Wadel, using hypnotizing blue pixels to abstract a moving form, perhaps a whale in the sea, transitioning on four television screens. Alongside are distorted photos by Rachel Rozanski of ambiguous flora and fauna, all questioning the truth behind images that can be easily tampered with.

In Line Games by artist Robin Lough, a rectangular void is painted directly on the wall, varying shades of black intertwining, further complicating the field of perception. Perhaps knowing encompasses the fact that we can only know so much. There are whole galaxies beyond this one, impossible to reach, another dimension where black holes may lead. What we might conclude from a study may be a fraction of something in its entirety.

Rachel Rozanski’s Class Unknown are large-scale charcoal drawings of abstracted animal forms and skeletons pinned to the wall like conspiracy theories. The texture of smooth bone is explored as well as a creature with furry characteristics. The detail of these twisted animals are prevailed in haunting black, reminiscent of a study. Through depicting these bodily structures, one can extrapolate observations about how the animal may have lived or the survival tactics they used. Also by Rozanski, is Artifact (series), an adjacent grid of inkjet prints on acetate like ghostly x-rays loosely hanging off the hospital wall.

Further down, the abject sense of the body is depicted through latex and bacteria slides under plexiglass in Kate Giles’ Breach. A sense of queasiness is evoked since

one questions what kind of bacteria is behind the glass. Along with the scientific, comes the attempt of clinical control and the hygienic.

In the next room, sharp, red geometric sculptures by Diana Hanitzsch hover with a threatening force and a dynamic presence. Their harsh forms could be torturous, yet they are hauntingly inviting with their energy floating in space. There are also several paintings of space by Cameron Hopkins, constellations too carefully placed to be considered merely random.

The works display the artists’ individual approach to both perception and processing information, but also how information can get lost and distorted through documentation. We have always tried to find ways to make sense of the unknown. Perhaps the biggest similarity behind art and science is the curiosity and wonder they evoke. As science tries to understand the natural through viewing through experimentation and observation, art understands the natural from viewing through referencing and creation.