ABOVE: Universal Code - Eduardo Kac's Genesis takes a passage out of the book of Genesis and translates it into original language, DNA

BELOW: Flower Power - In an unintentional homage to Edward Steichen, George Gessert hybridizes irises to his tastes


Gessert flowers

retro 80's clothing upstairs to the galleries, where the official opening festivities for the show are taking place. In one of the first rooms I enter, I am immediately beckoned by the wall projection of a DNA sequence (of A's, C's, G's and T's), as if to say, 'welcome to the world of bio-art.' It's part of Kac's "Genesis" installation. He's taken a sentence from the biblical book of Genesis (which is projected onto the opposite wall), translated it into Morse Code, converted the code into DNA base pairs (the ACGT's) and then genetically incorporated that into bacteria (projected on another wall). The sentence is: "Let man have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moves upon the earth."

A stylish, obviously European, thirty-something guy with ash blond hair, wearing a pin striped jacket and red shirt scurries nervously past the "Genesis" installation. His name is Jens Hauser. He's a German reporter for the European cultural TV channel ARTE, and the organizer of this unprecedented group show. One of the first things he tells me is that he hasn't slept in three days-so preoccupied has he been with this massive undertaking. He sweeps me through the crowd as we search for Adam Zaretsky, a New York bio-artist friend of mine who invited me to the conference. Reporters from various European TV stations and their companion camera people dot the gallery space. "Nantes is a town full of rumors now," Hauser tells me furtively. "And not only of green rabbits. This started weeks before this opening." So, the choice of Nantes and LU was not random. The German reporter knew that a buzz could be created in this little college town and that LU-with its infamous reputation for risky arts programming-was the perfect place to for a show like "L'Art Biotech."

Hauser has been following the fledgling bio-art 'beat' since the late 90's. His first exposure to it was in 1999 at Ars Electronica, an annual art + technology festival that has been taking place in Linz, Austria since 1979. That year's theme was "Life Science." It was there that he first met Eduardo Kac. "I remember having been quite aggressive towards Eduardo in Linz," he admits. "My first contact with biotech art was quite uncomfortable, as it probably is for most people, hearing that biotechnology was being used as an artistic medium."

Once he got past his initial reaction, he became fascinated with the medium working on related documentary films and reporting on it whenever he could. But, he was shocked to discover that even his own progressive network ARTE would refuse to accept his feature bio-art proposal. So he took it upon himself to independently accomplish a mammoth task: amassing the major players of the movement from all over the globe in one place for the first time to exhibit their work and discuss it in a companion symposium, along with French writers, scientists and art critics.

Events like Ars Electronica's "Life Science," which Hauser describes as "the first important impulse on the actual movement," and the subsequent "Next Sex" (2000) were certainly the harbingers to "L'Art Biotech." So was the "Paradise Now" exhibition (2000) at the Exit Gallery in New York. All featured various bio-artists and artists who worked with scientific themes. But never before have some of the true pioneers of bio-art like Eduardo Kac, Joe Davis, Oron Catts and George Gessert exhibited work dealing with 'living systems,' (rather than conceptual models) in one place.

Call it a movement-which, for all intents and purposes, I have in this article-but bio-art is still young and not entirely marked by cohesiveness. There's some evidence of collaboration within this "community" on joint projects but not much indication of the sort of intense mutual reverence and creative partnerships of George Braque and Pablo Picasso or Vincent van Gogh and Paul Gauguin. There is definitely acknowledgement and respect. But a remnant of the competitiveness of the scientific world seems to lurk in the dark corners of this bio-art 'movement.'




It's March 13th, 2003. It's a chilly, gray day in downtown Nantes. A walk over a bridge and just past some railroad tracks takes me to the foot of the huge cement building. It used to be the LU biscuit factory, but just three years ago it was transformed into the cultural center, Le Lieu Unique. Founded by 'the French pope of alternative culture' Jean Blaise. Its raison-d'être is to provide an all-purpose locale (café/bar, gallery, lecture space, bookstore, restaurant) where the arts and everyday life can seamlessly co-habitate, far from the alienating snobbery of the Paris art scene. It's a sort of casual open forum for diverse ideas.

For the next couple of months, the image of a large fluorescent green rabbit is draped over the side of Le Lieu Unique (known to locals in its former nomenclature, LU). Beneath it are the words "L'Art Biotech" (translation: bio-art), heralding a two-month long exhibit and a one-day symposium in the name of a growing art-meets-science movement.

The partly cute, partly disturbing mutant bunny image-from Brazilian artist Eduardo Kac's controversial GFP Bunny project-- has come, in many ways, to be known as the icon of this movement called bio-art. Where Jules Verne and André Breton hinted at collaboration between the arts and science; bio-artists throw it--as if it were a vial of hydrochloric acid--in your face. In varying degrees these global artists (most of whom don't even come from scientific backgrounds) use science in different ways as a subject, medium and canvas for their work.

The GFP Bunny (named Alba) is a transgenic (genetically modified) animal that expresses GFP (a fluorescent protein) when she is exposed to a certain type of ultraviolet light. Just an outlandish toy for twenty-first-century trippers who are sick of their lava lamps? Kac seems to think not. The artist--who is the chair of the Art & Technology department of the School of the Art Institute of Chicago-conceived the project (and altered life form) in 2000, in hopes of opening up a discourse on a very sobering topic: the use of genetic modification in animal research.

He has said that he 'created' the modified rabbit with the help of two scientists in the biotechnology wing of the National Institute of Agronomic Research in France. It spurred a fury in all corners: the art world, amongst animal rights activists, and the scientific community. It thrust Kac (who is arguably the most famous bio-artist in the world) and bio-art, into the international public eye. It was all that the creator could have hoped for. The art world asked: 'is it art?' The animal rights activists asked, 'how do we stop scientific advancements from infringing on nature?' And the scientific community balked, 'is it science?'

There has also been some grumbling from the science camp about misrepresentation in this work. According to some, that same famous image of fluorescent Alba that adorns the LU building in Nantes is but a somewhat tweaked representation of the truth. In reality, GFP can't manifest itself through fur. So, in broad-daylight Kac's rabbit looks pretty much normal apart from her eyes and the inside of her ears. Still, who can contest that the artist--whose background, prior to his bio-art works, was in multimedia art involving telecommunications and online experiences-is making the ultimate flavor-of-the-moment modern media statement: he's branded the GFP Bunny.

The opening of "L'Art Biotech" is a scene of total madness. It's a Thursday night in this college town, and hoards of people, young and old, local and international cram into the large lobby of LU. Straight ahead is a bar where some hipsters occasionally look up from their drinks to glance at a video screen that flashes images from LU events. Bodies also spill over into the bookstore that features tomes by some of the participants in the "L'Art Biotech" show and symposium: Body Bazaar by bioethics lawyer Lori B. Andrews, and limited edition Alba booklets by Kac, among others.

I follow a twentysomething couple clad in trendy

 
 
 
DNA

Art Imitates Life Science
The Bio-Art Movement Finds (Cultures & Grows) Its Wings in France

By Shana Ting Lipton

NANTES, France-
This was the birthplace of science fiction writer Jules Verne. And during World War I, it was here that surrealist king pin André Breton met a wounded soldier in a hospital ward whose conviction that art was nonsense was one of the catalysts for the Surrealism and Dada art movements. Verne was a writer who read scientific journals and incorporated them into his fantastical literary works. Breton and his ilk, called upon the Freudian world of psychoanalysis and dreams for inspiration in their artistic forays. These crude and early hybrids of the arts were conceived here in Nantes. They crossed boundaries and found ways to marry science and art.