There is an artist that through her designs creates structures that evoke animal shapes, but also abstract cosmic inspirations, Canadian Elisabeth Picard.
Based in Montreal, Picard draws her artistic inspirations from nature and in particular from the intricate architectural forms generated by the processes of growth and transformation in nature. Besides, the techniques she employs point at artisanal basket weaving, braiding, and knotting,
Yet the materials she uses for her pieces are mainly industrial, so that the artist juxtaposes in her practice different principles, the natural Vs the synthetic and the artisanal Vs the industrial, coming up with an enchanting dynamic interplay.
Drawn towards organic patterns, Picard is very much fascinated by modern advancements in design, architecture, and engineering and the result of this dichotomic approach emerges in inventive pieces made with transparent zip-ties that at times evoke the intricate architectures of Philip Beesley.
Manipulating them through dyeing, bending, and deconstructing, and employing a structural assemblage method that echoes the randomness prevalent in nature's own construction, Picard forms unique pieces.
Her works go from smaller spiral shapes reminiscent of organisms and micro-organisms (such as "Strongylocentrotus", 2013) to abstract tapestries like "Rainbow Mountains" (2015) that, suspended from the ceiling, unfurl like colourful cosmos or cascade like vibrant curtains.
In this way the humble zip-ties are radically transformed into something else: in some cases they look like marine organisms, purple, yellow and salmon pink, with tentacles extending and reaching out; in others they seem to reproduce the cosmic architectures we are discovering through the James Webb Space Telescope. At times Picard's smaller pieces also look like samples that could be employed as the foundation units for larger architectural projects.
In more recent pieces ("Mouvement perpétuel 01", 2020), the artist also employed dyed nylon rope and PLA to create textile based pieces, and kinetic artworks (Torsion 01, 2020). The latter integrate motors and microcontrollers that allow the pieces to rotate and twist.
The sculptures have a tactile and visual quality about them: when you see them you want to reach out and touch these woven plastic pieces, while Picard's backlight works offer a visual feast for the eyes as they are enhanced by the translucent hues reminiscent of the depths of water bodies and the captivating phenomenon of bioluminescence.
Surprisingly, Elisabeth Picard hasn't been collaborating with a fashion house yet. Imagining one of her monumental pieces gracing the runway is indeed easy, but her creations could actually be transformed into showpieces or even accessories blending art, architecture and fashion.
According to the Roman calendar, today it is the feast of Saint Lawrence, one of the victims of the persecution of Valerian in 258. In art Saint Lawrence is often represented on a gridiron on which he was tortured and burnt to death, but in Fra Angelico's fresco "Saint Lawrence Giving Alms," located in the Niccoline Chapel in the heart of the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican City, the saint is represented in a rose-colored dalmatic, embroidered with golden flames that actually look a bit like falling stars.
Actually every year in August, often between the 10th and the 12th, falling stars reach their peak, and traditionally some say they evoke the glowing coals of St. Lawrence's martyrdom, while others that they represent the tears shed by the Saint during his torture.
You may be a believer or not, but stars have been trending for quite a few months now, also thanks to NASA's James Webb Space Telescope (JWST),
Launched in 2021, in its first year of operations, the most powerful telescope ever launched into space and a joint endeavor with the European Space Agency and the Canadian Space Agency, provided scientists, the global astronomy community and fans of space discoveries and cosmic secrets, with spectacular high-resolution infrared images and inspirations for all sorts of creative minds.
In July, in celebration of this first year, NASA released Webb’s image of a small star-forming region, the closest to Earth, located at 390 light-years, the Rho Ophiuchi cloud complex.
Webb's image depicts an area featuring around 50 young stars, all of them possessing a mass comparable to or smaller than that of the Sun. The areas with the deepest darkness indicate dense regions where developing protostars are enveloped in thick dust cocoons.
The image is dominated by large bipolar jets of molecular hydrogen, portrayed in red, which extend horizontally across the upper portion and vertically on the right. These jets emerge as a star bursts through its initial cosmic dust covering, propelling opposing streams of matter into space. In the lower part of the image, the star S1 has created a luminous dust-filled cavern within the lower segment of the image, standing out as the only star in the image significantly more massive than the Sun.
More extraordinary images were released at the beginning of August when the telescope unveiled the iconic Ring Nebula (Messier 57), located in the Lyra constellation about 2,600 light-years from Earth.
The nebula formed when a dying star, called a white dwarf, began shedding its outer layers into space, creating a complex structure of vividly coloured glowing rings and expanding clouds of gas. A similar fate awaits the sun in a very distant future (billions of years from now).
The high-resolution images from the telescope’s near infrared camera (NIRCam), show not only the structure of the nebula’s expanding shell, but the inner region around its central white dwarf, a very dense star that is roughly the size of a planet.
What makes these nebulae truly breath-taking is their variety of shapes and patterns, which often include delicate, glowing rings, expanding bubbles or intricate, wispy clouds. These patterns are the consequence of the complex interplay of physical processes not well understood yet. Radiation from the hot central star now lights up these layers. Just like fireworks, different chemical elements in the nebula emit light of specific colors. This then results in exquisite and colourful objects, which allows astronomers to study the chemical evolution of these objects in detail. The colourful bands in the nebula are created by chemical elements that emit light at different wavelengths. These images hold therefore more than just aesthetic appeal; they provide a wealth of scientific insights into the processes of stellar evolution.
Besides, just a couple of day ago, the James Webb Space Telescope has followed up on Hubble Space Telescope's observations of the farthest star detected in the early universe, unveiling the star Earendel, a massive B-type star (surpassing the Sun in heat by over twofold and radiating a luminosity a million times more potent) located in the Sunrise Arc galaxy.
The detection was enabled by gravitational lensing, revealing the star's properties through NIRCam. Earendel's magnification factor is about 4,000, marking it as the most distant star ever observed, existing 1 billion years post big bang. Webb's NIRCam also revealed details of the highly magnified Sunrise Arc galaxy, showcasing young star-forming regions and established clusters.
Astronomers have even identified hints of a cooler, redder companion star based on Earendel's colors. Since Hubble's initial detection of Earendel, Webb has detected other exceedingly distant stars utilizing this method, although none have matched the remoteness of Earendel.
You can keep updated with the latest discoveries from the cosmo on the James Webb Telescope page or the NASA James Webb image pageor you could simply direct your gaze skyward in the next few days to witness the year's most spectacular meteor shower. The peak of the annual Perseid meteor shower, a celestial event that will continue until September 1st, is indeed set on the night of August 12-13.
The meteor shower derive their name from the constellation Perseus, as their radiant - the point from which they seem to emanate - aligns with this constellation's direction in the sky.
The Perseid meteor shower results from Earth traversing remnants - fragments of ice and rock - left behind by Comet Swift-Tuttle (that passed close to Earth in 1992, but was too faint to be observed without a telescope; the next anticipated encounter is expected in 2126).
This year's shower will experience minimal lunar interference, as the moon will only be 10% illuminated during the peak. Highly sought after by both astronomers and sky enthusiasts, on average and according to NASA, the Perseid shower promises a display of up to 100 meteors per hour during its peak, particularly when viewed from a dark, moonless location. The Perseid meteor shower usually leaves colorful and luminously persistent trains.
The optimal vantage point to witness the Perseid meteor shower lies within the Northern Hemisphere, extending to mid-southern latitudes.
Want to prepare for this event while dreaming of meteors and falling stars? Well, rewatch the works produced by illusionist, magician and film director Georges Méliès (even his Manufacture de films pour cinématographes, his studio trademark, actually included the English words "Star Film Company").
Stars appear in many films by Méliès, from his most famous "A Trip to the Moon" to "The Eclipse, The Courtship of the Sun and Moon", "The Spider and The Butterfly", and his underwater adventures. Quite often in his early films shooting stars were embodied on the screen by silent actresses greeting the spectators and sending them kisses as they travelled on oversized cardboard props.
Fashion-wise, stars have always been very popular, so you can try and look back at prints in collections by Walter Albini, Krizia, Gareth Pugh, Valentino and Delpozo or step back to the early '80s when Claude Montana did a star-shaped headdress for his 1981 collection.
To fully enjoy the meteor spectacle, though, ensure your attire aligns with practicality and comfort rather than fashion, and dress for prolonged observation under the night sky, bringing a blanket and a lot of patience.
There is another thing you may want to bring with you - a list of wishes. Some say indeed that all those who remember the pain endured by St. Lawrence during his martyrdom when a shooting star crosses the night sky, will see their wish come true.
Biomimicry, that interdisciplinary approach that involves emulating and drawing inspiration from nature's patterns and silhouettes, can provide us with innovative solutions for human challenges in a variety of fields, from architecture and design to technology. Shapes found in nature can indeed lead us to extremely original pieces, sometimes surreal, fun or even extravagant.
In previous posts we looked at the spiral shape in shelled animals such as the Nautilus pompilius, highlighting how the chambered seashell of the Nautilus inspired many mathematicians and scientists for its golden ratio spiral rotation at phi squared.
The International Architecture Awards seeks out young visionaries who draw inspiration from biomimicry to create the habitats of the future under the sea or in space or to tackle the challenges of the sea level rise.
This project consisted in a transfer station working as a skyhook inspired by the Nautilus shell. The core function of the station is to transit a spacecraft to its destination. In addition, the structure also provides hotel, tourism, entertainment, offices, scientific research and other services.
The power sources from nuclear energy, solar pressure and solar energy and resists cosmic radiation through the artificial magnetosphere.
The rules behind this competition (you're still on time if you want to take part in the 2023 edition; deadline: 18th September 2023) state that the structures must move from biomimicry and be innovative and sustainable, but they must also be in respect of the fundamental laws of physics (in other words, they must rely on technical and technological bases that can be imagined as realistic or possible in the future (even in the distant future).
So, while this is a utopian and theoretical project it is still based on innovation and technological precision, two principles that were also behind a very famous fictitious vehicle - Captain Nemo’s Nautilus submarine in Jules Verne's novels Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (1870) and The Mysterious Island (1874).
While the name came from Robert Fulton's real-life submarine Nautilus (1800), design-wise Verne's vessel was inspired by the French Navy submarine Plongeur, a model he had seen at the 1867 Exposition Universelle.
"A masterpiece containing masterpieces", as Verne described it, the state-of-the-art Nautilus, was assembled on a remote desert island by Nemo and his team. Engineered and commanded by Captain Nemo, the vessel is propelled by electricity generated from sodium/mercury batteries, drawing sodium from seawater to power the primary engine and onboard systems, including illumination and equipment.
Shaped like a very long cigar with conical ends, so not inspired by biomimicry, actually, the Nautilus is, according to the description, seventy meters in length, and its maximum breadth of beam is eight meters.
Verne was meticulous in its description adding, "Its surface area totals 1,011.45 square meters, its volume 1,507.2 cubic meters - which is tantamount to saying that when it's completely submerged, it displaces 1,500 cubic meters of water, or weighs 1,500 metric tons."
Buoyancy adjustment in the Nautilus is achieved through floodable tanks, their water evacuation powered by pumps so potent that rapid surfacing creates impressive water jets, mystifying early observers who liken the Nautilus to an unknown sea creature. For swift dives, the vessel employs "hydroplaning," descending steeply.
Catering to its crew, the Nautilus harvests sustenance from the sea and features a galley equipped for food preparation, including a distillation device for converting seawater to drinking water. To renew its air supply, the Nautilus surfaces, exchanging stale air for fresh - akin to a whale.
Extended journeys devoid of refueling or resupplying are well within the Nautilus's capabilities, with a maximum dive duration of around five days.
The ship's opulence is unparalleled for its time and its interior features lavish elements: a library houses twelve thousand books, valuable, unknown oceanic specimens and rare works of art. The Nautilus also includes a sumptuous dining room and an organ.
The descriptions in the book inspired thousands of fans of the story to come up with their own renditions of the Nautilus to create scale models as well, while Disney turned to artist and illustrator Harper Goff (who during World War II offered his advice about camouflage paint to the U.S. Army) to create meticulous blueprints of the Nautilus for its 1954 adaptation of the film.
Precise specifications for fictitious designs help readers visualizing what an author is describing and offer us glimpses of the future.
Verne's legacy of combining precision and imagination is mirrored in the story of Franz Joseph Schnaubelt, who applied his aerospace design skills to craft technical drawings for Star Trek props.
In 1973, Schnaubelt and his daughter became members of a San Diego Star Trek appreciation society. This community of enthusiasts dedicated their time to crafting their own Trek props and costumes.
Leveraging his aerospace design expertise, Schnaubelt started working on intricate technical drawings of iconic phasers and tricorders. His efforts yielded an impressive collection, catching the attention of Gene Roddenberry, whose wife Majel Barrett's company, Lincoln Enterprises, was producing Star Trek memorabilia at the time.
Despite initial skepticism about the future of the franchise, Roddenberry believed in the value of Schnaubelt's vision. This collaboration led to the creation of an extraordinary project – a manual for Star Trek enthusiasts.
First published in 1975 and reprinted several times, The Star Trek Star Fleet Technical Manual looked like a proper guidebook. Within its pages, the world of 23rd-century Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets was meticulously described, presented as a collection of fascinating documents.Amidst its pages, readers discovered the inner workings of the technology featured in the original series, besides, detailed insights were provided on various elements, including the intricacies of starships, phasers, tricorders, universal translators (we may not have proper portable translators in our times, but we do have programs, sites and apps on smartphones that offer Artificial Intelligence-powered machine translation, so we got there), weapons, medical equipment and even uniforms (including patterns).
Additionally, the manual unveiled diagrams showcasing the construction of a functional communicator using 20th-century electronics.
The manual fascinated fans and general readers alike with its meticulous plans and illustrations, down to the minute details of screws and batteries essential for the proper operation of the various pieces of equipment.
The impact of The Star Trek Star Fleet Technical Manual extended far beyond its pages. The book soared to the top of The New York Times paperback list, shattering existing profitability records and its unexpected success played a crucial role in rescuing a series that was on the brink of cancellation.
This testament to imagination and attention to detail served as proof of the enduring influence of innovative ideas in shaping both fiction and reality. It vividly highlights how visionary concepts have the capacity to bridge the gap between imaginative narratives and tangible achievements, leaving an indelible mark on our perception of what is possible.
Zhichao Lin and Yanze He blended biomimicry and practical functionality in a pioneering space project in which they also included technical specifications, just like Verne's Nautilus represented a vessel of visionary proportions with some functions that may have sounded extremely futuristic, yet, in part, they weren't so improbable; Franz Joseph Schnaubelt's meticulously crafted manual served as a portal to a futuristic realm, illustrating the profound impact of imaginative thinking on practical creations.
These narratives converge to reveal the influential interplay between creativity, precision, and the dynamic intersections of design and invention, or, to paraphrase Jules Verne's insightful maxim, whatever one can imagine, others will be able to achieve.
As seen in previous posts, nature and sea creatures can offer us incredible inspirations, so let's continue the thread by looking at intriguing shapes linked to marine creatures.
Let's start from this alien looking thing you may stumble upon on beaches. This enigmatic rectangular creature with horn-like projections at each corner is actually not a creature, but an egg case or capsule, also known as "mermaid's purse".
This casing surrounds the eggs of catsharks, skates and rays (not manta rays, though) and varies depending on the species. Typically containing one embryo, in some cases, like those of the big skate and mottled skate, can house up to 7 embryos.
Made from collagen protein strands, these cases often have a rough and leathery texture. Some feature fibrous coverings, aiding attachment to substrates, while others may appear striated, bumpy, or smooth and glossy.
When washed ashore, these egg cases can become dry and flat (see first picture in this post), so, to properly identify them (Download Eggcase ID Key), it's advisable to soak them in water, allowing them to rehydrate and regain their original dimensions.
In my case I found a Thornback Ray case and soaking it in water allowed me to explore its original shape in a better way and have a lot of fun as well, as the egg casing looked like a rather bizarre creature having a nice and relaxing bath. As you examine the egg case, the notion of using its shape to create an accessory becomes apparent - could this be used as the starting point for a handbag or, even better, a rucksack? After all, it's supposed to be a "mermaid's purse", so why not creating a purse for ourselves moving from this shape? (Get your thinking caps on, come on!)
If you stumble upon ray egg cases, you can maybe extend the discourse to other types of rays: these creatures hold incredible inspiration and, in a previous post, we explored a fashion hoax involving stingray sneakers.
These creatures also provided inspirations for architects and designers: in 2015, French architect and oceanographer Jacques Rougerie, known for his underwater researches, designed a vessel shaped like a manta ray.
This visionary creation, named the "City of Mériens" ("mériens" is a word Rougerie came up with himself to describe people who "belong to the sea”) consists in a self-sustaining structure powered by marine energy and producing no waste.
With a total length of 900 meters and a width of 500 meters, this mobile city is designed to accommodate in its interior lagoon research vessels of different sizes (up to 90 meters long).
Equipped with laboratories, classrooms, lecture halls, living quarters, and recreational spaces, it stands as a floating city dedicated to oceanic exploration and study.
At the lowest level (120 meters deep) it could indeed accommodate up to 7,000 people, among them researchers, professors, and students. According to its designer, the City of Mériens is conceived to understand and protect the marine environment, but it also champions environmental consciousness by minimizing its impact.
Looking for a design object that still gets its main inspiration from marine creatures, but that is also simpler than a utopian vessel-cum-floating laboratory?
Check out the the glazed ceramic tray designed in 2006 by Cinzia Ruggeri for Atelier Franco Bucci. Shaped like a manta, the tray featured a cute tail made of perfectly spherical ceramic beads evoking the fashion and interior designer's passion for pearls.
In Ruggeri's imaginative universe, nothing is what it seems, so one side of the manta was black and mysterious and under a certain light you almost got the impression the material employed to make it is leather rather than ceramics.
Yet that's just one side of it as, underneath, the tray is white and hides a shoal of fish, hinting at the fact that fish usually clinging to the manta ray's body for protection, easy transportation, and nourishment as the manta ray glides into plankton-rich waters (this surprising twist in this otherwise simple tray is the same technique Ruggeri used when she hid objects, pearls or messages in her clothes so that the wearers could find them when a hole opened in the lining).
The manta ray tray is also known as "Calma piatta", which literally means "flat calm", but in English it can be translated as "dead calm", indicating in nautical language the condition of a perfectly flat sea with no waves and no wind.
Though it retains some connections with the sea through the nautical language connotations, the name of this design is a departure from more literal marine inspirations, hinting maybe at a moment of relaxation, inviting us to escape the chaotic modern world we live in to take a break and maybe use the tray to serve a snack, a coffee or a drink.
As we observe the shapes of mermaid's purses and the fluid elegance of manta rays, we're reminded that nature's design holds both functionality and aesthetic wonder.
In a world where chaos and routine often vie for our attention, the sea provides a sanctuary of inspiration inviting us to pause, reflect, and embrace the beauty that thrives beneath the waves.
In the previous post, we explored the blue crab invasion in the Mediterranean and looked at the potential of chitin and chitosan. As seen in that post, blue crabs are aggressive creatures that possess formidable and scary pincers, yet they do have a predator – the octopus (even though only a big one could win a fight against a blue crab…).
Octopuses have actually been the subject of a heated debate recently around the world's first octopus farm planned for Gran Canaria's Las Palmas port.
This €65 million facility aims to revolutionize octopus production by potentially yielding up to 3,000 tons of octopus meat annually. The octopuses in question belong to the species Octopus vulgaris, otherwise known as the Atlantic common octopus.
Nueva Pescanova, an aquaculture multinational, first applied for the necessary permits for a two-storey farm in 2021, after stating it had successfully managed to replicate the life cycle of these octopuses in captivity.
The proposed farm's strategic location by the Gran Canaria coast where seawater from the adjacent bay can be utilized, ensures, according to Nueva Pescanova, optimal environmental conditions. The farm would then be populated with octopuses from a research facility, the Pescanova Biomarine Centre, located in Galicia, northern Spain, with the first harvest (300 and 500 tons of octopus meat) expected around 2027. Production would then reach 3,000 tons of meat annually, which means killing 1 million octopuses a year.
Yet there are a lot of issues surrounding the project, mainly regarding sustainability and ethical considerations. While octopus demand surges globally, driven by luxury cuisine trends and by the evolving preferences of younger consumers, critics argue against mass production due to its non-essential nature.
While advocates of octopus farming propose it as a solution to ease pressure on wild stocks, researchers highlight that aquaculture expansion didn't necessarily translate to reduced wild fish harvesting. In fact, aquaculture might contribute to a greater seafood demand.
The farming process is not without its potential ecological consequences: there are multiple issues to consider, from coastal water pollution through the discharge of pharmaceuticals and waste to the demand for wild fish to sustain these carnivorous creatures. Pellet feeds, which are often fishmeal-based, could exacerbate overfishing and contribute to food security issues in certain regions of the global south.
Besides, while octopuses are capable of gaining 5% of their body weight daily, so they present an enticing opportunity for aquaculture, their captive breeding remains a challenging endeavor also for ethical reasons as octopuses are ill-suited to tolerate the hard conditions likely to be imposed upon them.
Proximity in confined spaces can trigger aggression and territorial behavior among octopuses, often leading to cannibalism when housed together. Stress from overcrowding or unfavorable living conditions may also result in self-cannibalism, where the animals consume their own arms. Captivity-bred generations also lack the cognitive stimulation of their wild counterparts notorious for their active and exploratory nature and for daring escapes.
Nueva Pescanova envisions a future facility segregating the animals into around 1,000 tanks based on life phases, each phase calibrated for optimal growth through tailored conditions and states that these problems will not arise as these are not wild octopuses, but animals bred in captivity.
While this will have to be proved, the slaughter of around 1 million octopuses per year has also raised concerns about humane practices. Nueva Pescanova intends to employ ice baths (octopuses would be killed by being put in containers of water kept at -3C) as a more “humane” method compared to other options such as clubbing the animal on the head (octopuses caught in the wild are clubbed on the head, asphyxiated in a net or get their brains sliced). Nevertheless, the lack of established international standards for octopus slaughter remains a complicating factor. Research indicates that fish tend to cease movement relatively rapidly when exposed to ice or ice slurry, however, brain activity suggests the possibility of consciousness persisting for a significant duration.
Octopus farming would subject these complex fascinating animals capable of changing the colour and texture of their skin, of disguising themselves and using tools, to the same suffering other animals such as pigs go through in confined environments. Activists and academics are therefore questioning the ethics of farming these highly intelligent and exploratory creatures.
Protests have surfaced against the octopus farming venture (that would become the first industrial octopus farm globally - the Washington State in the US has moved instead towards banning octopus farming - the only operating octopus farm in the US, situated in Hawaii, recently closed down), and there are organisations working to provide further information about octopus farms and several global petitions calling the President of the Canary Islands, the European Union (EU) and governments all over the world to reject the plan to build the world's first industrial octopus farm and ban octopus farming in the EU and around the world, including its import and financing.
Sadly in the EU, farmed octopuses lack protective regulations under existing animal welfare laws, which do not apply to invertebrates. In the UK, instead, the Animal Welfare (Sentience) Bill was amended after a scientific review and now it includes some invertebrate animals such as octopuses and lobsters. This was possible also thanks to new researches that proved their sentience, pain perception, harm and distress (scientific studies observed injured octopuses employing protective behaviors such as wrapping an arm around wounds; some studies indicate that injured octopuses, when given the chance, may exhibit self-medicating behavior by seeking pain relief).
Octopus research has also unveiled their intelligence (some studies suggest their intelligence is equivalent to that of cats), playfulness and passion for daring escapades.
Dating back to 1875, accounts from the Brighton aquarium revealed that a bold octopus stealthily left its tank to indulge in lumpfish-filled neighboring enclosures, then quietly slipped back in its own tank. A 2009 incident saw an octopus at the Santa Monica Pier Aquarium flooding the area by manipulating a valve in its recycling system. In a remarkable escape case in 2016, Inky, a New Zealand octopus, managed to break free from the national aquarium by slipping out through a slightly ajar tank lid, maneuvering down a 50-meter drainpipe, and disappearing into the sea (genius).
One of the latest studies about octopuses, carried out by researchers from the Okinawa Institute of Science and Technology (OIST) in Japan and published in the journal Nature in June this year, is fascinating as it proves that these animals experience two sleep stages, known as "quiet sleep" and "active sleep."
The study, carried out on 29 octopuses of the nocturnal species Octopus laqueus, confirmed that during the active sleep stage, octopuses exhibit similarities to REM sleep in vertebrates, including humans. While this phase of slumber is associated with dreaming in humans, the study doesn't conclusively prove that octopuses can dream.
The researchers observed twitching body parts and rapid changes in the texture and patterning of the skin during active sleep, similar to those seen when awake. Octopuses also displayed changes in breathing rate, body and eye movements, and neural activity patterns that correlated with wakefulness.
While the study focused on a single octopus and refrained from drawing definitive conclusions, the researchers proposed that the behavior could be linked to the cephalopod "responding to a negative episodic memory," potentially suggesting a form of nightmare.
But octopuses have fascinated not just researchers, but also many creative minds: the artwork "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife," also known as "Girl Diver and Octopi," created by Japanese artist Hokusai, comes to mind. This woodblock-printed design was included in a three-volume book of shunga erotica published in 1814.
This particular artwork has become Hokusai's most famous shunga creation. It portrays a young ama diver (shell diver) engaged in a sexual encounter with two octopuses. In the image, the larger octopus performs cunnilingus on the woman, while the smaller one, presumably its offspring, fondles her mouth and left nipple.
This depiction is likely influenced by the story of Princess Tamatori, a well-liked narrative during the Edo period. In this story, Tamatori, a humble shell diver, marries a man seeking a pearl stolen by Ryūjin, the sea dragon god.
In her attempt to retrieve the pearl, Tamatori swims to Ryūjin's underwater palace and is pursued by the god and his sea creatures, including octopuses. To escape, she cuts open her breast and places the stolen jewel inside, allowing her to swim faster. However, she succumbs to her wound upon reaching the surface.
The artistic theme of a diver fighting against octopuses appears in works by other artists as well, such as Utagawa Kuniyoshi, who often featured octopuses in depictions of the bare-breasted diver fighting against sea creatures.
Hokusai's print is sometimes considered an early precursor to tentacle erotica, a motif that gained popularity in modern Japanese animation and manga from the late 20th century onwards.
This image also influenced later artists including Pablo Picasso and had an impact on contemporary Japanese-American artist Masami Teraoka, who created artworks featuring women, including a recurring pearl diver character, being pleasured by cephalopods as a representation of female sexual empowerment.
A musical reference to this theme can be found in "Aria della piovra (Un dì ero piccina)" (also known as "Octopus aria"; published by Irene Disques / Kutmusic) from Pietro Mascagni's opera "Iris" (1898), with a libretto by Luigi Illica. Here the main character, Iris, recounts a memory from her childhood where she saw a screen in a Buddhist temple depicting an octopus entwining its limbs around a smiling young woman, killing her. The aria reflects the symbolic significance of the octopus as pleasure and death, as explained by a Buddhist priest.
Echoes of Hokusai are also featured in Thom Browne's Haute Couture A/W 23 collection: the latter revolves around the story of a woman who is sad about her life and planning on drowning in her sorrows, but eventually, realizing life isn't so bad, finds the strength to get on.
The collection features several designs with underwater scenes, including a coat with an appliqued representation of an octopus vaguely calling to mind Hokusai's representations.
In his early engagements with octopuses, Japanese artist Shimabuku drew on ancient Mediterranean and Japanese fishing traditions, coming up with vessels and vases strung up on long lines of rope to unsuspecting octopuses for shelter. The artist would then pull them up and harvest them.
But in 2010 the artist decided to rethink this connection with octopuses creating 12 glass balls that he interpreted as gifts to these creatures, inspired by ancient rituals of offering to deities (the spheres are currently part of the exhibition "Shimabuku. Me, We," at Bolzano’s Museion, until 3rd September).
This gesture was a way for the artist to extend kindness and generosity across species, recognizing nonhuman creatures as individuals with desires and wishes of their own. Unlike exploitative approaches, this practice embodies solidarity and mutual respect. In this way the artist gifts something to octopuses so that they can also enjoy themselves.
For playful, cleverly whimsical and ironic forays into fashion involving octopuses, you should check out instead the work of the late Cinzia Ruggeri.
Back in the 1980s, Ruggeri donned rubber tentacles as fingers in a picture published on Vogue, that illustrated a feature about her by Alessandro Mendini. In the article, Ruggeri made a list of references and sources of inspiration and also mentioned octopuses.
In the video, shot within the confines of Ruggeri's Milanese showroom, dancer Valeria Magli moved clad in a blue bodysuit adorned with countless suction cups and embodying the designer's artistic exploration.
Magli as an octopus-woman gracefully navigated the studio's spaces and interior design elements surrounding her, becoming entangled with the objects and pieces of furniture she found in her path (among the pieces there is also the "Tavolo acquario", an aquarium table designed by Ruggeri, in which tiny fish used to live).
This kinetic performance seemed to allude to the ritual of dressing oneself, with the bodysuit activating an interplay between Magli and the objects created by Ruggeri.
This interaction unfolded slowly (to remind us to readjust our internal rhythms to our surrounding spaces), encouraging a harmonious connection between contemplative thought and the spontaneous responsiveness of the body.
This ensemble featured oversized bandolier-like undulating elements reminiscent of octopus tentacles adorning the sleeves and dress.
Who knows, maybe Ruggeri was inspired by octopuses because she was fascinated by the creature's astuteness and by its audacious lifestyle of autonomy, escape, and self-expression, characteristics that applied to her as well.
But thorugh octopuses, she may have also been hinting to multi-tasking and multi-disciplinary approaches, something she favoured throughout her life, working between art, fashion and interior design.
For those readers who remain unconvinced of the octopus's remarkable qualities, well, you can dive (pun intended) into the docu-film "My Octopus Teacher" (2020).
Directed by Pippa Ehrlich and James Reed, the Oscar winning docu-film follows the friendship between Craig Foster and a wild common octopus in a South African kelp forest. Foster states about his friend, "A lot of people say that an octopus is like an alien. But the strange thing is, as you get closer to them, you realize that we're very similar in a lot of ways".
These works alongside the ongoing investigations into octopuses - exemplified by the Schmidt Ocean Institute's discovery in June of the third recorded octopus nursery in the ocean's depths, found 2800 meters below the sea's surface near Costa Rica and providing sanctuary for a novel species of Muusoctopus (inkless, small to medium-sized deep-sea octopuses) - serve as a reminder that our comprehension of the ocean remains significantly incomplete and offer profound insights into the captivating world of octopuses, inspiring a desire to befriend these enigmatic creatures rather than merely consuming them.
In yesterday's post we mentioned how some experts compare plastic in the oceans to an invasive species that impacts on biodiversity. So let's shift our attention today to an invasive species that is worrying many Mediterranean countries - the blue crab - to ponder a bit about bio-materials.
In 2019, tourists heading to the South of Italy, and in particular to the Puglia region, received warnings about the dangerous invasion of Atlantic blue crabs.
The blue crab's presence in the Mediterranean dates back to around 1898, following the opening of the Suez Canal. Gradually the crabs spread along Spain's Mediterranean coast and also reached Italy. Their proliferation was accelerated due to increased trans-oceanic marine traffic and rising temperatures caused by climate change. As a result, they started posing a serious threat to native wildlife, biodiversity, and fishing in the region.
Originally from the coasts of North and South America, the Atlantic blue crab is not problematic in its native habitat, but in the Mediterranean it is regarded as an invasive species that is currently causing significant damage to the ecosystem. The clam industry has indeed been severely affected as these crabs proliferate in several lagoon-like locations in Italy, preying on local shellfish and other aquatic organisms. Clam aquafarms, especially in the delta of the Po river valley, have suffered heavy losses, with the crabs devouring up to 90% of young clams, severely impacting future production.
Some have suggested eating the crabs: this has proved the main solution in other countries such as Tunisia where blue crabs quickly spread since 2014, destroying nets and causing trouble for fishermen and other aquatic life. Yet now the crabs have turned into one of the region's most sought-after seafood items and they are also frozen and exported to Asia (mainly to Korea).
But this may not be the final solution as experts state that at this point it is not possible to eradicate the population of blue crabs in Italy as they are multiplying at great speed and the numbers are out of control. Only a small portion of the caught crabs is indeed sold for human consumption due to limited demand, while the rest are discarded and there are plans to use them for animal feed.
Some propose exporting the crabs to other countries, where they may be in demand as a delicacy. Yet that may be tricky: the blue crab population in Maryland's Chesapeake Bay has declined so much that local authorities implement stricter limits on crab harvests. But shipping live crabs from Italy to the Chesapeake Bay shores could introduce diseases or other invasive species that might further harm the bay's delicate ecosystem. At the same time, directly importing to grocery stores, markets, or restaurants, could adversely affect Maryland's economy.
Invasive species that impact on native ecosystems are usually exterminated, but dealing with this aggressive species of crabs capable of eating plastic and metals as well (so you wonder if it is a good idea to eat them…) requires alternative approaches and creative solutions.
Maybe design and science can help us in this case and we can start from taking into consideration the structures and composition of crab carapaces (blue crabs have rather beautiful yet dangerous sharp claws and spiny shells) helped by the studies about this topic made by biomimetic designers and materials scientists.
The answer in dealing with the proliferation of crabs may indeed be in the structural, chemical and compositional makeup of crab carapaces. Let's look at some examples.In 2022, Liangbing Hu, Drector of the University of Maryland's Center for Materials Innovation, and a group of researchers published a paper in the journal Matter. They proposed using crab and lobster shells to create renewable batteries, presenting an eco-friendly alternative to conventional batteries that contain harmful and slow-to-degrade chemicals like lithium-ion, the most common batteries in mobile phones.
These batteries have impressive longevity and are capable of powering devices for many years. Typically, they utilize plastic-polymer-based electrolytes, which are less toxic compared to other options. However, these electrolytes can still take centuries or even millennia to decompose fully.
The exoskeletons of crustaceans, such as crabs, shrimps, and lobsters, are composed of cells containing chitin, a polysaccharide that gives their shells remarkable hardness and resistance. This valuable material, abundant in nature and found in fungi and insects as well, is often discarded as food waste by restaurants and the food industry. However, scientists have long explored its diverse applications, including biomedical engineering for wound dressings and anti-inflammatory treatments, and even in electrical engineering.
According to researchers, through enzymatic or chemical deacetylation, chitin can be converted to its most well-known derivative, chitosan, that can then be used as an electrolyte for batteries. An electrolyte facilitates the movement of charged molecules (ions) between the two ends of a battery, enabling it to store energy. By combining this chitosan electrolyte with zinc, a naturally occurring and cost-effective metal widely used in batteries for its safety, Hu's team successfully created a renewable battery.
The prototype battery demonstrated an impressive 99.7% energy efficiency even after 1,000 battery cycles, equivalent to approximately 400 hours of usage.
These innovative batteries are non-flammable, and the two-thirds of the battery composed of chitosan can break down in soil within five months, thanks to microbial degradation, leaving behind recyclable zinc.
Chitosan has actually been employed for other applications over the years: farmers have been using it since the 1980s to boost plant growth and protect crops from fungal infestations. Beyond agricultural fields, chitosan plays a crucial role in water purification, helping remove sediment and impurities from drinking water, while also serving as a clarifying agent in alcohol-making processes. Its utility extends to the medical field, where hemorrhage control bandages infused with chitosan help in wound healing and sealing.
Moreover, the biodegradable and non-toxic nature of chitosan makes it an ideal material for crafting medical devices that interact with the human body. The prospect of specialized 3D printers creating chitosan-based tissues and organs for transplants holds promise for the future of healthcare.
The researchers at the University of Maryland weren't actually the first to explore the potential of chitosan in batteries. Scientists worldwide have been experimenting with this crab-derived material, yet this study was considered innovative as it combined zinc ions with the chitosan structure, enhancing its physical strength and increasing the battery's overall efficiency.
The porous and fibrous structure of the crab carbon enhances conductivity and ion transportation efficiency. In tests, both composites showed good capacities and could endure at least 200 cycles.
In a study published in the Optica Publishing Group journal Applied Optics, the researchers showed how these lightweight, inexpensive gratings are biodegradable and could potentially be used in portable, disposable spectrometers. The chitosan-based bioplastic derived from dried and crushed crab shells showed promising optical properties and was molded using soft lithography, a replication process.
The resulting chitosan gratings demonstrated the expected rainbow pattern when illuminated with white light and produced correct diffraction patterns when tested with a laser beam. This breakthrough offers a sustainable, biodegradable and cost-effective alternative to conventional spectrometer components made from heavy materials like glass. The researchers are now focusing on improving the power efficiency of chitosan gratings for practical real-world applications, particularly in disposable spectrometers for environmental and industrial analysis.
The material consists in a film created by suspending cellulose and chitin nanofibers in water and spraying them onto a surface in alternating layers (the chitin nanofibers are positively charged, and the cellulose nanocrystals are negatively charged, so alternating layers allows to form an interface between them), creating a strong, transparent, and compostable film.
The new material showed a significant reduction in oxygen permeability compared to traditional polyethylene terephthalate (PET), potentially extending the shelf life of packaged foods. With an abundant supply of cellulose and chitin-rich byproducts from the shellfish industry, the material offers a renewable and sustainable alternative to petroleum-based plastics. However, further research is needed to optimize the manufacturing process and enhance water vapor resistance.
Further researchers could even help us developing an alternative material made with chitosan for plastic bags used in the fashion industry. Talking about clothes and accessories, chitosan could be used also for garments.
Tidal Vision, the only commercial scale US-based manufacturer of chitosan, developed Tidal-Tec®, a platform producing nontoxic flame retardant and antimicrobial textiles and a while back launched a partnership with Leigh Fibers, a large textile fiber processing and upcycling company in North America.
We regularly see in the news features about companies, designers and environmentalists looking for renewable alternatives to replace petroleum-based materials. The abundance of chitin-rich byproducts from the shellfish food industry offers a potential solution, but further research and manufacturing processes are obviously necessary. These advancements regarding chitin and chitosan present a significant market opportunity for batteries and packaging and let's hope we will see more of them.
In the meantime, for those intrigued by close-up studies, a visit to the beach to look for crab carcasses can be truly inspiring. Their shells, sharp thorns, carapace, joints, and ligaments provide fascinating subjects for examination. Indeed, remarkable research often begins with careful observations up close (Please note: no crabs were hurt to write this post – I only collect carcasses of crabs found on the beach for study purposes – you don't need to be a taxidermist to preserve them, but you can leave them to dry buried in a small pile of sand under the sun for a few weeks, then you can keep them in a box and create your own portable cabinet of curiosities).
If you fancy instead a fictitious narrative twist to this crab story, well, get more informed about crab divination in Kapsiki, North Cameroon. Looks like there is much we can learn from (and about) crabs, even when they are a nasty invasive species.
In yesterday's post we explored the Science Facts Vs Science Fiction dichotomy. Let's continue this dual thread by moving onto another interesting dichotomy - Marine Species Vs Synthetic Environments.
To do so, let's focus on the issue of oceans' garbage patches. These patches form far from land, where powerful currents converge, carrying various types of trash, including microplastics - tiny debris resulting from the erosion of larger plastic items.
The most significant of these marine debris fields is known as the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, also referred to as the Pacific Trash Vortex and North Pacific Garbage Patch.
Spanning an area roughly twice the size of France, it's located in the central North Pacific Ocean, about midway between Hawaii and the coast of California. The patch first came to the attention of oceanographer Charles Moore in 1997. Due to the difficulties in spotting its contents from a distance, it remained unnoticed for a long time.
This garbage patch is formed primarily from plastic and floating trash originating from the Pacific Rim countries, including those in Asia, North America, and South America.
Cleaning up these patches presents significant challenges, especially since recent studies have shown that coastal species have begun colonizing plastic trash in the ocean.
These colonies, termed "neopelagic communities" (Download Emergence_of_a_neopelagic_community_through_the_es), consist of various species such as anemones, brittle stars, shrimp, barnacles, and more, thriving on the plastic debris. Essentially, masses of ocean plastic are now providing artificial habitats for these coastal species.
While some bacteria can break down hydrocarbons in plastic, it is unlikely that these filter-feeding invertebrates thriving in neopelagic communities will have a similar effect (however, in 2021 scientists discovered in the ocean bacteria capable of "eating plastic" - Thioclava sp. BHET1 and Bacillus sp. BHET2; investigating the potential of these microbes on plastics could be crucial in the fight against plastic pollution).
However, attempts to remove trash from the ocean may inadvertently harm delicate creatures living in these garbage patches as stated in a study in 2021 and confirmed in a new research published in April this year (Download Peerj-15021).
The latter states that removing trash from the ocean would kill countless delicate creatures living on the garbage patches. Efforts to clean up the garbage patches by skimming the surface with nets might indeed lead to bycatch, similar to the accidental capture of dolphins while targeting commercial species like shrimp. Such cleanup measures could therefore inadvertently harm these surface-dwelling organisms along with the debris, yet these creatures are an integral part of the marine food web, serving as food for one another.
The accumulation of plastic in marine ecosystems has given rise to a unique concept called the plastisphere. The term was first described in an essay published in 2013 by a team of three scientists, Dr. Linda Amaral-Zettler and Dr. Erik Zettler from NIOZ Royal Netherlands Institute for Sea Research in North Holland and Dr. Tracy Mincer from Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution.
The term refers to a plasticized marine environment, acting as a habitat for various microorganisms, from bacteria and fungi to larger organisms like crabs and jellyfish. The plastisphere is an ecosystem with complex interactions, including photosynthesis, predation, symbiosis, and parasitism, it is therefore similar to other ecosystems.
Unlike other ecosystems that have evolved over millions of years, the plastisphere is a creation of human activities. Studies have also shown that certain colors of plastic affect the diversity of the microbes colonizing them, with blue microplastics hosting richer microbial communities than yellow or transparent plastics.
Yet, even if you're not a scientist and while on holiday, you can carry out an intriguing and inspiring research into materials, plastics and marine species, just by observing what surrounds you.
If you happen to be in Italy, for example, observe the plastic debris you may find on the beaches: sadly, it is not rare to stumble upon lost diving masks, children's toys, bottles, caps and semi-melted medicines in plastic dispensers (not expired yet in case you need them…). If you find larger pieces of plastic or children's buckets abandoned for a long time but in good state (sometimes among the sea rocks), in some cases you may be able to spot marine species attached to them.
In the fifth, sixth and seventh picture illustrating this post, you can see for example a piece of white plastic probably from a paint bucket that my brother found in Italy along the Adriatic coast two days ago during a creative exploration (my brother and I collect plastic debris from the sea for a personal project).
Along the edge of the bucket you can see tiny Gooseneck barnacles (Lepas anatifera). The name of this species refers to the fact that the barnacle looks like a duck's beak and according to one version of a hilarious myth that gained popularity during the early Medieval times mainly through bestiaries, the Barnacle Goose and the Brant Goose were believed to emerge fully formed from goose barnacles, so they grew from something other than conventional bird eggs (the myth's long-standing popularity can be attributed to the lack of knowledge about phenomena such as bird migration during earlier times).
The piece of plastic is also pierced in multiple places with perfect holes made by the same barnacles that probably ate it or anyway pierced it to attach to it. While this is not a proper "community" it is still a tiny colony that has created its own habitat, so you can't just discard the piece of plastic.
Although the notion of organism-encrusted plastic may seem like a tale of ocean species thriving despite human mistakes and taking their revenge upon us, there is little cause for celebration as these plastic fragments hosting colonies of marine species will inevitably attract other species, eventually entering the food chain. In the case of plastic eating barnacles, well, a research showed in 2013, that barnacles ingest small particles of plastic (polyethylene, polypropylene and polystyrene), but no blockage of the stomach or intestine was observed as all particles were of a plausible size to be expelled again (Download Peerj-184).
While some advocate for controlling or eliminating plastic like you do with invasive species, an alternative approach involves establishing protected areas that include garbage patches, enabling scientists to gain deeper insights into potential consequences. However, the most impactful and lasting solution lies in reducing our dependence on plastic altogether, preventing its entry into the oceans in the first place.
So the urgent task at hand is to find a solution to plastic pollution, an open call also for creative minds. Designers can indeed play a pivotal role in developing sustainable alternatives to plastic; besides, the fascinating plastisphere, with its diverse array of marine creatures and their interactions with synthetic materials, may offer a wealth of inspiration for designers willing to study natural adaptations and develop products and materials that coexist harmoniously with our environment.
In July, there was a heated debate in the UK surrounding Channel 4's faux documentary "Gregg Wallace: The British Miracle Meat."
Viewers were actually unaware that it was a fictional satire on the rising cost of living in the UK and about a potential future without food banks. Indeed, the documentary initially appeared as a regular food-based show, following Wallace to a secretive facility in Lincolnshire where meat made from human cells was being produced by Good Harvest, an innovative food company.
As the program unfolded, it suggested that the solution to the cost of living crisis was growing human meat from surgically harvested flesh (with donors being paid about £250 a time). The most shocking revelation came when the tastiest meat was claimed to be from children under seven years old.
Directed by Tom Kingsley, the show - made more credible by Matt Edmonds' script - deliberately provoked anger and discomfort, exposing social issues like poverty, austerity, and neglect.
Wallace's presentation of the concept was impactful, the bitter satire highlighting the faults of an uncaring government and the exploitation of vulnerable people, stirring strong emotions of outrage towards the unaffordable luxury of food and the idea of selling one's flesh for cash.
The clever execution and audacious nature of the program made it an effective modern-day version of Jonathan Swift's 18th-century satirical essay "A Modest Proposal," where the author suggested eating babies to address hunger in Ireland, but also called to mind Orson Welles' announcement of a Martian invasion in 1938 that sounded like a genuine radio news announcement.
Thought-provoking, yet unsettling, the program tackled social issues making the viewers feel angry while masquerading as a genuine documentary resulting in a program suspended between science facts, science fiction and social commentary.
In yesterday's post we looked at an exhibition entitled "Fashion Fictions" that looks at the future of fashion and it is inspired by different dichotomies, such as the one between the scientific and the fantastical, found in Julian Bleecker's essay "Design Fiction" (2009; downloadable for free at this link),
And this is where we may find an inspiration also for a fashion collection: juxtapositions always help generating great ideas and stirring one's imagination, but whenever we had a juxtaposition of science and fiction in the history of fashion, we always saw intriguing shows and narratives on the runways (remember Alexander McQueen's Plato's Atlantis, inspired by a vision of an underwater future in which - according to the late designer - humanity is condemned to once the ice cap melts? While the story is a fiction, it moves from a scientific fact - the rising sea level is indeed an effect of climate change).
So science facts and science fiction could help us coming up with something extremely original. Further inspirations along these lines?
The short documentaries by Floris Kaayk: as some of you may remember, in 2006 the Dutch digital artist did a short documentary entitled "Metalosis Maligna".
In the documentary we are shown patients with metal implants or prosthesis in their bodies who start growing metal spikes and protuberances that in some cases eat their flesh alive and turn their bodies into a mass of metallic pieces.
Intriguing yet disturbing and definitely not for the faint-hearted, the documentary offers food for thought for all those creative minds interested in half human/half robotic hybrids and species transformations. Kaayk also shot other fictitious documentaries about insects made of mechanical components proliferating in abandoned industrial areas ("The Order Electrus") and about a modular body grown in a laboratory.
But you could expand your research and references to literature and look for juxtapositions of science facts and fiction in stories: in Alasdair Gray's novel "Lanark" (which is partially a science fiction used as a social commentary) one of the characters, Duncan Thaw, has a real skin issue, eczema, which is mirrored in a fictitious skin disease, the dragonhide that turns Lanark's skin into scaly patches (a metaphor for expressing the hardening and the alienation of the lost individual; fermenting inside themselves, these individuals go "supernova" and their combustion is used by the Institute as energy-fodder).
So get to work on your Science Facts Vs Science Fiction narrative (keeping in mind other artists who tackled it in other disciplines such as film or even photography in clever ways - remember Joan Fontcuberta?). You can come up with something disturbing, dark, or even with a piece of factual entertainment or a satirical narrative suspended between documentary and elaborate hoax (it could be a prank on fashion and design magazines like the story of the genetically engineered stingray sneakers...). So, read, research, and enjoy your journey through science facts and science fiction.
Amidst the challenges of climate change, extreme weather events such as heatwaves and floods, pandemics, and conflicts, envisioning our collective future can be daunting. Equally perplexing is the question of how we will safeguard ourselves and our bodies from the myriad of threats that confront us daily (think about the relentless migration of deadly species including insects and fish, across borders). As we brace ourselves for future unstable and hostile environments, clothing and accessories will undoubtedly play a crucial role in our protection.
The Vancouver Art Gallery recently embarked on an exploration of the future of fashion through an innovative exhibition. "Fashion Fictions" (on view until October 9, 2023) acknowledges the growing emergence of creative solutions and designs that defy conventional fashion norms, materials, and technologies. The show aims to uncover how fashion can adapt and respond to the ever-changing and uncertain world we inhabit.
Inspired by Julian Bleecker's essay "Design Fiction" (2009; downloadable for free at this link), which builds upon the concept coined by critic and theorist Bruce Sterling, the exhibition's title emphasizes the innovative power of bridging dichotomic entities such as fact and fiction, the present and the near future, and the scientific and the fantastical.
The featured designers - more than 50 including Comme des Garçons, Marine Serre, Iris van Herpen, Neri Oxman and threeASFOUR, among others - inhabit and operate in liminal spaces, using fashion as a medium to blend unrelated ideas and propose novel aesthetics, bodily forms, and even new ways of existing in the world.
Drawing inspiration from diverse cultural traditions, science fiction, technology, and a commitment to sustainability, these designers create fashion objects that visually manifest new realities and celebrate hybrid identities. This isn't Retrofuturism anymore as these designers are not recycling the futuristic image of the '60s inspired by the Space Age (even though the influence of Paco Rabanne and André Courrèges is implicitly acknowledged here), but they are pushing forward, recognising that the optimistic outlook of the early space discoveries has given way to a state of permacrisis that can still offer creative minds very intriguing inspirations.
The exhibition, curated by Stephanie Rebick the Gallery's Director of Publishing and Content Strategy, is structured into three thematic sections: "Material Futures", showcasing technological and scientific innovations in materials research;" Aesthetic Prophesies", highlighting the fusion of cultural traditions with speculative creations; and "Responsible Visions", investigating designers' incorporation of adaptive reuse and upcycling into their explorations through designs made with discarded leather, safety pins, and metal wire.
There is so much to discover and rediscover here, from Jun Takahashi's intricate honeycomb-pleated gown from Undercover's A/W 2017-18 collection to Ying Gao's latest robotic garments that can morph on the wearer's body; from Alice Potts' bio-design incorporating crystal embellishments made from human sweat to shoes made from bacteria; from 3D printed state-of-the-art creations by Julia Körner to Ronald van der Kemp's swirling chain-link cascade of textile waste, the subversive designs of South Korea's Goom Heo or Maiko Takeda's colour-gradient acetate spiked headdresses donned by Björk on the cover of her 2015 "Vulnicura" album.
The exhibition also features a section on digital fashion, with garments that only exist in virtual realms, adorning social media avatars, or being sold as NFTs (Non-Fungible Tokens). Works from The Fabricant, a renowned Netherlands-based digital couture house, share the spotlight with British designer Taskin Goec, known for creating both digital and physical clothing. While this section is not critical, visitors should use it to ponder about digital waste. Digital fashion and NFTs consume indeed electricity and impact all the same on the environment.
Throughout the exhibit, themes like safety, security, and survival emerge, indicating intriguing developments in the world of design. Fashion serves not only as a means to incite consumer desire for the latest trends, but also addresses deep-seated, foundational needs related to navigating the present and future.
One example of an item that represents safety is the puffer jacket to which curators dedicated the biggest room in the art gallery. Initially designed for mountaineering and outdoor enthusiasts, it has transformed into a fashion icon since Norma Kamali's innovative sleeping bag coat in 1973. Now, puffers have become a staple in everyone's closet, but they also turned into conceptual designs as proved by Craig Green's creations for Moncler Genius. The puffer jackets in the exhibition go from minimal to cocooning like quilts, from billowing to gargantuan or sculptural like Rick Owens's coats. Variation is the key when it comes to sizes, shapes, and interpretations.
In the present day, fashion exhibitions are widespread across the globe, and it's not uncommon to come across the same designs displayed in various cities like London, New York, or Tokyo. Curators at Vancouver Art Gallery made instead a very wise choice choosing to feature also several Indigenous designers that you may not find in other museums.
Contributing curator Amber-Dawn Bear Robe, hailing from Alberta's Siksika Nation, selected works by several North America Indigenous designers and artists addressing social and environmental issues. Bear Robe highlights that the long-standing presence of veteran designers like Dorothy Grant and Kanayu Rebecca Baker-Grenier, proves that Indigenous designers are not a new trend.
Yet in this exhibition these designers are showcased in an innovative way: rather than displaying them in one room, they are juxtaposed to established and celebrated designers and therefore in conversation with global fashion brands including Alexander McQueen, Issey Miyake, Balmain, and Balenciaga.
These designs also remind us that for Indigenous people fashion is not merely about pretty garments with a seasonal trend, but it is deeply political: it shows their technical skills, but also their cultural heritage, intertwining art with life.
Among the highlights there are the works of Siksika artist Adrian Stimson such as his Bumble Bee Regalia (Naamoi’stotoohsin), a white beekeepers' suit adorned with 300 meticulously hand-sewn beaded bumble bees, complemented by beaded gloves and moccasins.
Crafted in collaboration with Lucille Wright, the design is a reference to an almost forgotten rite in Siksika (Blackfoot) culture that sees children dancing like bees and forming swarms to prepare them for future societies. In our times, the ensemble also hints at the essential role bees play in the planet's long-term sustainability.
Caroline Monnet presents a futuristic fusion of Anishinaabe and French design in her Aïcha’s Regalia (2022), a remarkable wide-shoulder cape jacket that incorporates traditional weaving and reflective floor coating, elevating industrial materials to fine conceptual, wearable art. Similarly, her Catherine's Coat (2002) incorporates Plexiglas with her matriarchal family designs, clashing Space Age aesthetics with cultural heritage. These thought-provoking garments take on new dimensions in her large-scale photograph "Echoes from a Near Future". The image combines fashion photoshoot with conceptual art and political statement and portrays Indigenous women leaders emanating an aura of empowerment, providing us with a new narrative woven with a fusion of heritage, resilience, and visionary leadership that goes beyond the realm of clothing.
Cree-Métis artist Jason Baerg's Sunset Dress also provides us with a narrative of nature's harmony and beauty through its chic black-and-white vertical stripes symbolizing ascending trees, juxtaposed against sky-blue leather trim representing the Earth. Barry Ace's Otter Moccasins bring together an array of materials, from otter pelt to electronic components, artfully integrating the innovative spirit of Anishinaabe culture with emerging technologies.
The exhibition also features the imaginative creations of other Indigenous designers like Shaya Ishaq's Circles of Lite, part of her Mirror, Mirror exhibition on wearable artwork, and Himikalas Pam Baker, who celebrates her Squamish, Kwakiutl, Tlingit, and Haida heritage through a black dress adorned with Northwest Coast artwork.
"Fashion Fictions" also features a program of events and collaborations, including a creative research laboratory conceived and programmed by Material Matters from Emily Carr University of Art + Design.
What will we be wearing one day? What will our supermodern wardrobes be like? Will our crystal embellishments be made of sweat, will we be wearing shoes grown out of bacteria and will fashion designers be also microbiologists? As usual, time will tell, but for us living in the present the only choice is to immerse ourselves in these fashion fictions, listen to the stories these objects are telling us about the future and wonder how fashion will mutate season after season, decade after decade.
In conclusion, one crucial consideration lingers for more established brands and fashion houses: the exhibition's focus on independent and Indigenous designers suggests a potential shift in the dynamics of fashion power in the years to come. Perhaps the future of fashion does not solely reside in the pockets and profits of huge conglomerates, but rather in the hands and hearts of these visionary creatives who skillfully merge traditions and technology in a more human-centric approach.
Image credits for this post
All images in this post courtesy of the Vancouver Art Gallery.
2. Ronald van der Kemp, Overcoat, The Mind Vaccine Collection, Autumn 2021 (Look 34), felt made from textile trash, Courtesy of RVDK Ronald van der Kemp, Photo: Marijke Aerden
3. Goom Heo for Goomheo, Pleated Look, Chaos is our Comfort Zone collection, Spring/Summer 2022, Courtesy of Goomheo
4. Craig Green for Moncler Genius, Ensemble, Moncler 5 Craig Green collection, Autumn/Winter 2018, micro ripstop nylon, cotton down, Courtesy of Moncler
5. Alice Potts, INPerspire, 2023 (detail), wool hat with biomaterials, Courtesy of the Artist, Hat: Courtesy of Reigning Champ, Sweat: Alice Potts, Photo: James Stopforth
6. Caroline Monnet, Echoes from a Near Future, 2022, inkjet print mounted on aluminum, Courtesy of the Artist
7. Shaya Ishaq, Circle of Lite 3, 2019, inkjet print, Courtesy of Shaya Ishaq, Photo: Brandon Brookbank
8. Yimeng Yu, Curvature Collection: IronThrone, 2022, digital image, Courtesy of the Artist
In a previous post we looked at the similarity between a selection of images produced by different users employing Midjourney.
As stated in that post, while it is not rare for some users to spot a trend or a prompt on the #general Midjourney servers on Discord or on communities such as Reddit, and reuse it to generate their own images, quite often the similarities between pictures generated with Artificial Intelligence text-to-image applications are extremely striking and they do not depend from users employing other people's prompts. It is indeed not uncommon to stumble upon images generated by users who haven't seen each other's prompts but that look extremely similar one to the other for the clothes sported by the AI generated model in the picture, the angle or the colour palette.
As stated in a previous post, this may occur because of Mode Collapse, a common problem in Generative Adversarial Networks (GANs). Mode collapse occurs when GANs produce a limited set of outputs instead of exploring the full range of training data. Two main causes of mode collapse are catastrophic forgetting and discriminator overfitting.
Catastrophic forgetting happens when a GAN forgets knowledge learned from previous tasks while adapting to new ones; discriminator overfitting, on the other hand, contributes to diverse and high-quality outputs. The discriminator is responsible for distinguishing between real data (i.e., actual samples from the training dataset) and fake data (i.e., data generated by the GAN's generator). The generator aims to produce realistic data that can deceive the discriminator. Discriminator overfitting happens when the discriminator becomes too specialized or too good at identifying real data, to the extent that it becomes excessively accurate in its discrimination. As a result, the discriminator assigns extremely high confidence scores to real data points, approaching 100% certainty that they are real.
This might sound like a good thing, as the discriminator is effectively doing its job well. However, it creates a problem for the GAN's overall performance. When the discriminator becomes too good at distinguishing real from fake data, it becomes challenging for the generator to deceive it. Consequently, the generator's loss (the measure of how well the generator is performing) approaches zero, meaning the discriminator is no longer providing useful gradients to help the generator improve. In such cases, the generator essentially loses its learning signal and fails to produce diverse and realistic samples. It gets stuck in a limited set of output patterns, leading to mode collapse. Mode collapse means that the GAN generates only a few specific outputs repeatedly, rather than exploring the entire range of possible outputs that represent the diversity of the training data.
Understanding these causes helps developing more effective GANs capable of generating diverse and realistic outputs. By addressing mode collapse, GANs can continue to be powerful tools in deep learning for generating a wide range of data types.
But as users, is there a way to tame Mode Collapse? Well, one obvious tip is always challenging Artificial Intelligence with more advanced prompts, playing around with parameters and creating elaborate images; another option is reworking the first image the system generates after elaborating your prompt. After all, in most cases, you may have generated something cool, but not necessarily unique. You can do it by opting for the variation function but also by experimenting with the /describe function on Midjourney.
So, here's an exercise for fashion design students who may want to play around with Midjourney for inspirations. Let's start from two images: I generated the first one with a prompt that asked the Midjourney Bot to come up with an image of a woman wearing a Mexican wrestler's mask. I wanted it to be hyperreal, photographic, extra detailed and I specified the parameters for the quality and stylize functions (--q .5 --s 250).
The Bot didn't perform well, but generated an image of a male model in a feathered headdress and a 15th-16th century costume, think of a crossover between a jester and a conquistador and you get the idea.
Digital artist Fatima Travassos used Midjourney and came up instead with an image of a male model wearing elaborate horns, a sort of golden mask with long hanging wooden beads and a costume with some feather elements.
I'm not sure about her prompt, but, while the two images look different for the costumes donned by the model, they also look strikingly similar, as if we had both booked the same model who donned for the occasion the same black make-up around his eyes.
Can we avoid producing such similar images? Well, let's try altering them with the /describe function: this command requests the bot to write four prompts that describe what it is "seeing" in the image. Then you can pick one (or all) of them and start generating images.
The first description generated a prompt stating "a male costumed in a feathered costume, in the style of detailed portraiture, light red and light cyan, aztec art, porcelain, intense chiaroscuro portraits, historical reimagining, hand-painted details".
Results produced a sort of muscular warrior wearing a feather headdress and a very different expression from the model in the original image. The colours are also brighter in this interpretation – verging more towards vibrant turquoise and bright coral than towards the pastel tones of these shades in the original image.
Also the images generated by the second prompt – "a man dressed in feathered costumes for a masquerade, in the style of pre-columbian art, dark white and light red, detailed portraiture, porcelain, organically inspired body art, vibrant coloration, historical documentation" – relate to a sort of warrior or maybe a man in a ceremonial costume. The colour palette here is set on red and white.
The bot stuck to the same red and white palette for the image of the third prompt, that includes an important variation, as it refers to “a woman in a red and white henna mask, in the style of idealized native americans, detailed costumes, sacha goldberger, dayak art, made of feathers, polychrome terracotta, renaissance chiaroscuro".
The fourth prompt also revolves around the same palette and refers to "a woman dressed as an indian with feather, in the style of moche art, dark white and light red, 8k resolution, manticore, ritualistic masks, 15th century, hand-painted details".
One disappointing fact is that, left unprompted, Midjourney still generates mainly white models in most of these cases, showing an intrinsic latent racism.
While it is possible at this stage to take one of these prompts and alter it manually, let's pretend to be lazy and see where Midjourney takes us. So let's pick the first image and the third one (in this one the young woman portrayed wears an intriguing armour made of scales) from the fourth prompt and Upscale them.
After this stage, let's opt for the "Vary Strong" function to get another two sets of four women with more intricate face and body painting, a fathered headdress and elaborate jewellery/earrings.
As you can see, we have radically moved away from the first image we had, but you can obviously continue experimenting behind this point.
Now let’s move onto the second image generated by Travassos and ask the bot to provide us with four descriptions for that picture.
The first description Midjourney came up with states: "the new era of the viking masks with feathers on top of the head has been invading the contemporary culture, yet many artists are def, in the style of schlieren photography, white background, light gold and beige, futuristic fantasy, manticore, light gold and cyan, contest winner."
In this first prompt Midjourney focused on the actual mask of the model portrayed in the image, providing variations regarding to the shapes of the horns and the facial details.
The second prompt offers another variation - "a woman wearing a gold mask, in the style of hybrid creature compositions, white background, norwegian nature, idealized native americans, fawncore, contest winner, even mehl amundsen".
The horn theme remains, but we have a woman this time in a more elaborate make up and verging more towards the eerie and the horror.
Feathers reapper instead in the third prompt hinting at "a woman wearing a feather and feather embellished outfit and headdress, in the style of light gold and dark beige, masks and totems, white background, norwegian nature, edgy, symbolic use of animals, pop-culture-infused".
In this case the attire donned by the women in the images seems to be a combination of traditional tribal garments and film costumes.
Here the Midjourney Bot conjures up a mysterious figure, a sort of a bird superhero dressed in an elegant attire (maybe going to a wedding?), the description states, "a man with a head sculpted from feathers on a white sheet, in the style of masks and totems, light gold and beige, wildlife photography, women designers, lunarpunk, elaborate costumes, rudolph belarski".
Let's pick the third image and Upscale it, then opt for "Vary Strong" as we did in the other case. Once we get the new set of fourth images, let's Upscale the first and then opt again for the "Vary Strong" function. The results are obviously very different from the image we started from.
Now, while we are not guaranteed that Midjourney will not recreate at some point an image similar to these ones, this exercise has allowed us to come up with a series of variations, but the best thing about the process is that, while writing the descriptions for its prompts the Midjourney Bot added references we may not have thought about or may not have been aware of.
In these cases the Bot mentioned the late American graphic artist Rudolph Belarski, but also contemporary artists such as Norwegian Even Amundsen and French Sacha Goldberger. Actually, this last reference is a key to understand some of the moods in these pictures: Goldberger is indeed famous for combining Flemish moods with superheroes which sorts of explains us the reference Midjourney was using when it first generated my image (even though in my case I never mentioned the words "Flemish" nor "Sacha Goldberger").
Bizarrely, we have generated enough ground for the artists mentioned in these descriptions to sue Midjourney, because we have proved the system knows them and uses their works to generate new artworks, but this wasn't the main aim of this post (yet this point had just allowed us to make some interesting legal considerations).
This post was indeed a way to remind those fashion design students playing around with Midjourney that they should never stop to the first image they generate (or they could upload their own image, ask Midjourney to describe it and then play around with what the prompts they get…), but they should instead keep on researching and educating themselves, also using the references in the prompts generated by the Midjourney Bot with the /describe function to discover other artists, movements and moods and then understand how they can turn them into starting point for their works without incurring in infringements of copyright.