On Tuesday, March 12th, 2024, at 6:00 p.m., “The Green Fuse” masterclass took place, given by Nigel Ten Fleming, PhD in Clinical Biochemistry and current sculptor specializing in the theme “Nature Writ Large” at the Centre Cultural La Mercè (Girona, Spain). During the event, his sculpture “The Green Fuse” was exhibited, a piece inspired by Dylan Thomas’ poem and intertwined with a famous quote by Darwin.
The masterclass delved into how sculptor Fleming began his artistic work rooted in science and consistently linking it with plastic art. His working methods, materials used, artistic references, and aspirations of individuals involved in the scientific world whom he admires and has honored by creating and donating sculptures in their honor were discussed.
Throughout the workshop, a series of slides were presented showcasing different photographs of his most prominent artistic works. The entire recording of the workshop is now available on YouTube.
TALK TRANSCRIPTION
Index
#1. Preamble
#2. My background as a scientist
#3. The story of how I became a sculptor
#4. The virtual shell museum origins of 3D scanning
#5. Three Lessons from the history of sculpture and their remedies
#6. The ideal tribute arrangement is a collaboration
#7. What is my message?
#8. There is no single right approach to sculpture
#9. On Nature Writ Large, scale, and context
#10. The internal logic of form
#11. On the issue of sculptural models
#12. Different materials
#13. The theme drives the material
#14 The story of the two alabasters
#15. Other materials
#16. Artificial stone technique
#17. Sanding techniques
#18. Additive and subtractive sculpture
#19. I have 50 sculptures to do in 15 years
#20. The virtue of essays to accompany sculptures
#21. Science and art both draw on the subconscious
#22. Accessing the subconscious
#23. Sculpting can be an altered state
#24. Conclusions
#25. Installations of my sculptures in progress
#1. Preamble
This is an Essay about my personal reflections on my experience of being a sculptor. It is not an account of how sculpture should be, nor guidance for new sculptors. For everyone must find their own way, and this is an account of my way.
Let me give you the broad outline of the Essay so you know what to expect. First, I will tell you a little about my background as a scientist and how and why I became a sculptor. I will then give you a summary of my conclusions about the lessons from the history of sculpture and their remedies. Next, I will suggest to you that science and art are both creative enquiries into nature, and both draw on the subconscious imagination. And, finally, I will discuss some methods that I use to access my subconscious imagination.
#2. My background as a scientist
As a young man I was forced by the British education system to choose between art and science but I defied them by choosing both. The thought of becoming a literary academic — my strongest subject — filled me with horror, and I selected a career in the direction of science instead.
As a result, I was trained as a scientist in clinical biochemistry, did post doctoral research in diabetes and Alzheimer’s disease, taught medical students physiology and biochemistry, and ultimately spent most of my career studying neurological diseases.
You might think that this is an odd background for a sculptor? But on the contrary, my experience has shown that these two activities — science and art — are actually very similar. I hope that by the end of reading this essay you will get a better sense of why.
When I was a scientist, I was especially fascinated by techniques, and wrote three patents on methods that I had developed. This was a consequence of the laboratory that I trained in. Patenting is a very methodical process which takes an idea and converts that idea into a way of doing things that is replicable and converts the idea into practice. For me this was concrete and less challenging than investigating why nature is how it is, for answers can be very hard to come by.
New techniques always push the boundaries of scientific knowledge. The invention of the microscope opened up a world previously invisible to the eye. The telescope similarly opened up the heavens. Neither existed without both imagination and the work of translating that concept into a physical thing.
#3. The story of how I became a sculptor
Let me first tell you the curious story of how I came to be a sculptor. My wife Tessa and I went to Prague for Christmas in 2016. It was freezing cold. The objective of the trip was to celebrate the anniversary of the famous astronomer Hans Kepler, who stood on the Charles Bridge in Prague some 500 years earlier, and caught a six-sided snowflake on his black coat. He then wrote an important mathematical essay on it entitled The Six-Cornered Snowflake in the following year, 1611.
I wanted to honor his memory by also catching a snowflake on my black coat on the anniversary of his essay on the Charles Bridge. The day came, and it was snowing. The snowflake was captured and Hans Kepler was duly remembered. My primary objective of the holiday had been achieved. It never occurred to me that there might have been a second, and more important outcome of the holiday in Prague.
Why is this context important? Rather like the English poet and artist William Blake, who famously “saw a world in a grain of sand”, Kepler looked into the innerness of a seemingly simple thing, a snowflake. By innerness, I mean the essence of an object, the special properties that make it what it is. Poets, writers, and artists all strive in different ways to describe innerness.
Kepler proceeded to ask why the snowflake was six-sided and used his abundant creative imagination to develop a theory on the subject, which subsequently launched the mathematics of molecular packing, and ultimately, the science of crystallography.
Kepler saw the innerness of that speck of frozen water. There was subsequently a long tradition of smart grown men studying things like rainbows, peacock feathers, and crystals. Not things for children only. These acts of taking something commonplace and looking deeply into it has been very inspiring for me, and has formed a bedrock of my approach to life.
Within a few days of catching the snowflake on my black coat, we went to a frozen concentration camp outside Prague and witnessed the horrors of man’s cruelty. To recover, we went to the neighboring town. It had a castle, and in the basement was a sculpture exhibition. There were large bronze works by a local artist.
One rather grotesque sculpture grabbed me by the throat. It was a life sized bronze woman with a horse’s head, stooping over a bowl of her own entrails. I was left completely speechless. I did not say much for the rest of that evening. But the next day, while standing in line at the Prague Museum of Art, I turned to Tessa and announced that I had had a revelation, and had decided to become a sculptor. Effective immediately. It was a forceful, sudden revelation that came from nowhere. I could barely believe the words that came out of my mouth!
During the following few weeks, I abandoned my career as an entrepreneur, resigned from the various boards of directors, and started to teach myself sculpting. Never one to take the traditional path, I felt that I could learn by doing, and you might be very surprised what you can learn on YouTube!
I had never once before in my life even had a daydream of becoming an artist or a sculptor. I had never sculpted anything. This was a radical departure for me! The innerness of the snowflake, the horrifying concentration camp we had visited, and that gruesome statue all colluded to throw my life into utter chaos. All that I knew for sure was this was what I had to do. There was no second guessing and no reversal was possible.
This revelation to become a sculptor was at the end of 2016, when I was 62 years old. It was clear that the traditional career path of a young sculptor was not going to work for me, and I had to radically rethink almost everything about how to undertake this new career. In rethinking the traditional path, I made three decisions: I decided to teach myself, to work alone, and to avoid giving exhibitions. Let me explain those three items. Teaching myself is a lifelong habit that I have adopted. I tend not to like being told how things are, and prefer finding out for myself. Working alone is my preferred habit. It allows me to follow my own curiosities and not to have to justify anything to anybody. In fact, I do not expect people to even like my work. I do it largely to amuse myself.
#4. The virtual shell museum origins of 3D scanning
And thirdly, on the issue of not giving exhibitions, consider the fact that we live in the age of the internet. I can create a permanent, curated exhibition that is available worldwide, and attach meaningful essays to each sculpture. And that is what I have done.
For many years I had dreamed of the possibility of creating a virtual shell museum where each shell has been 3D scanned and the images could be examined in detail, rotated and magnified. But, back then, the technology was very expensive and difficult to use.
I then had the good luck to see an exhibition by the gifted Girona Mercé Cultural Center sculpture teacher Tom Pons where he had a 3D scanned face on exhibit. I asked him about it and learned that the technology had become much less expensive, and that he and his former student, Alex Silva, were quite expert in the technology.
Why did 3D scanning relate to sculpting? In general, I was, and still am rather Gothic in my approach to sculpting, using slow old-fashioned manual methods. 3D scanning sculptures can lead to two outcomes. The first is beautiful images, that like the shell museum idea, which can be rotated 360 degrees and examined in microscopic detail. That would be useful for my website.
The second outcome is that you can take these 3D images, and using a laser cut either larger — or smaller — make exact replicas in wood or stone. These replicas can also be further sculpted to create a family of related customized sculptures. That gave me the possibility of limited editions and a way to accelerate my work.
#5. Three Lessons from the history of sculpture and their remedies
But let me return to the personal saga of how I became a sculptor. The first thing that I did on making the decision to become a sculptor was to survey the history of sculpture. This is just the way that I think. Several things became crystal clear to me. Firstly, humans are totally obsessed with the human form. Over 95% of all sculptures are of the human body or of the human head. As a species we love to look in the mirror! Secondly, nature as a sculptural object had been almost entirely ignored. I found this very surprising. And thirdly, having a sponsor always corrupts the sculptor: consider, for instance, that for over 2,000 years when that sponsor was the church, the result was 2,000 years of biblical themes. While some of these are outstanding pieces, this path was not exciting for me!
I thought about how to solve these obvious deficiencies in the history of sculpture, and I came up with four remedies for these lessons for myself. Number one, never sculpt the intact human form. If you do , take it out of context as isolated parts, or concentrate on its biology. This changes everything. Number two, focus on nature. I was, after all a scientist who had studied nature for my career. Nature is my passion. Number three, uncouple myself from any idea of a financial market, an audience, or a sponsor. I am lucky to be in the phase of my life when I can do this, and remember well the pressures of doing good science while launching businesses or seeking grants. Number four, my sculptures cannot just be pretty: they must have a message that is the result of looking deeply into nature. The work has to convey a sense of innerness, the wonder of nature. The snowflake. The grain of sand.
How was I to accomplish these remedies? Firstly, only sculpt on the theme Nature Writ Large. Take small often invisible things, change the scale and the context, and allow people to see them with fresh eyes. A world in a grain of sand. Secondly, give all my sculptures away as gifts, as tributes, to people — mostly scientists — who I admire and who are challenging the status quo. My use of the term tribute is at variance with the traditional usage as a payment signifying submission or alliance. My use is that it is a sign of respect. So far I am in the process of installing 11 sculptures as tributes to controversial scientists in Catalonia, England, Italy, Brazil, and the United States.
#6. The ideal tribute arrangement is a collaboration
I have undertaken two collaborations with famous scientists who I admire, and they are the idealized format for going forward. The first was with Professor David Tong, a theoretical quantum physicist at the University of Cambridge. I had studied David’s remarkable quantum physics lectures. We worked together on a design for a very large stone sculpture proposal for Cambridge’s Department of Applied Mathematics and Theoretical Physics. The theme was the visual history of the universe. In all it was to be about 3 meters long and two meters high, in the form of an S curve, with an inner face and an outer face. It was to be composed of about 40 slabs of sandstone, cunningly woven together. David and I went through several prototype ideas and eventually I made a plasticine scale model, and we submitted it as a proposal to the Department. Unfortunately, the number of stakeholders and other priorities allowed the proposal to die on the vine. At some later point I shall make a smaller scale version of it.
The second collaboration came about with the head of Harvard’s Astronomy Department, Professor Avi Loeb, a man that I have long admired. In 2019, Avi speculated that an interstellar object named Oumuamua might be “may be a fully operational probe sent intentionally to Earth’s vicinity by an alien civilization.” This upset most astronomers. In 2014, a space rock, measuring roughly 1.6 feet in diameter, exploded above the Pacific Ocean off Papua New Guinea. He was certain that this was of interstellar origin, and by 2022 he had organized an expedition to drag a magnetic sledge at 2 kms depth on the sea bed to recover magnetic debris from this. He called it IM1. He did recover material specific to the object, and the chemical and physical properties of these tiny spherules were very unusual. Not surprisingly, his scientific colleagues were apoplectic.
I started a collaboration with Avi on the design of a wooden sculptural relief to mark his pioneering work. After several rounds of designs, we agreed upon a final sketch, which was an amalgam of his published works on Oumuamua and IM1, showing the stellar route of Oumuamua and the detail of one of the larger spherules from IM1.
#7. What is my message?
My field is the natural sciences, broadly defined. Overall my gambit is Nature Writ Large, and my message is the innerness of natural entities. At times the message is overt, like The Rite of Spring, which is about reproduction. At other times it is more subtle, lime The Green Fuse, an interpretation of a Dylan Thomas poem.
#8. There is no single right approach to sculpture
There are as many legitimate approaches to sculpture as there are sculptors. No single one approach is better or worse. All that matters is that they are authenic for the individual sculptor. Each artist must find their own best approach by trial and error.
#9. On Nature Writ Large, scale, and context
Since Nature Writ Large implied scale, most of my works tend to be big. If they can fit in the living room of your aunt, it is probably less interesting for me. This meant two things: firstly having a large workshop. Secondly, when working with heavy materials like stone, a modular approach was imperative. I quickly learned that if you cannot carry and move the modular units yourself you start to need cranes and helpers and it becomes a different enterprise. This was critical for the David Tong proposal.
An important aspect of changing the scale of a natural object is that it often takes it out of context. When I sculpted my wife’s left ear as a 40 cm block of sandstone, changed the orientation to horizontal, and isolated it as a solitary object, many people failed to recognize it as an ear.
#10. The internal logic of form
Every form has its own internal logic. When making a sculpture these hidden rules reveal themselves, and direct what are the outer limits of possibilities of that particular form. This logic includes complying with basic geometric norms. The human eye quickly sees inconsistencies in the logic of a structure. For this reason, I find it very useful to take photos of my work while in progress from different angles in order to spot these inconsistencies.
#11. On the issue of sculptural models
There is a long tradition of sculptors making highly detailed models before embarking on the final sculpture. A maquette (a word derived from French) is a scale model or rough draft of an unfinished sculpture. An equivalent term is bozzetto, a diminutive of the Italian word for a sketch.
Most of the time I let a sculpture just evolve from a simple concept, with no more than a simple sketch or a clear image in my head. But more recently, for big wooden sculptures like the Loeb project, I have taken to doing a careful design on a professional computer drawing application then projecting that onto the wood to establish the outlines. Or, alternatively, projecting it into a smaller piece of wood that will later be 3D scanned into a big piece of wood.
#11. Traditional exhibitions are for dinosaurs
It is my opinion that most, but not all, exhibitions are old fashioned and may soon become extinct. They are dinosaurs. In brief, the three main issues are: they take a large effort, have very short visibility, and serve only a small audience. And most artists have to repeat this cycle as often as possible to build their visibility. Today, this is old fashioned approach is nonsense, and the three issues are easily solved by constructing a well designed website to have a permanent curated exhibition, available to a worldwide audience.
#12. Different materials
When I began sculpting I assumed that marble was the gold standard, and Tessa and I drove to the enormous Carrara marble quarries in Italy to buy stone, which we did. But when I got to my workshop I found that the marble was extremely hard and I broke a number of chisels trying to work it. Much later I found out that if freshly quarried marble is used, it has a higher water content, and is much softer. Getting fresh marble turned out not to be so easy, so I abandoned marble.
#13. The theme drives the material
The choice of both format and material are driven by the theme of the sculpture. There are a couple of formats that have become important to me; the first is the more traditional 3D rendition of an object like a flea head, a or a platyhelminthese. The second is a traditional relief structure like Stomata or Gynoecium. The third is a modular format that permits scale for stone works. And finally, inspired by intricate Thai wooden carvings, there is the possibility of adding separately sculpted pieces to a montage, where the additions are essentially invisible, such as Quantum Fluctuations.
#14 The story of the two alabasters
I then experimented with beautiful, soft, and translucent Spanish alabaster from Zaragoza in Spain, having admired the many medieval religious sculptures in alabaster.
I subsequently found out that the soft Zaragoza alabaster is the sulfate alabaster with water in the molecule. There is also a calcite alabaster variant without water, that is harder. This is what the mediaeval sculptors used, because the calcite alabaster allowed more detail to be carved into it. This sent me on a quest for the calcite alabaster.
There were only two sources of the harder calcite alabaster used in mediaeval times. One was in Nottingham, England. The other was in Beuda, near Besalú. I made enquires into the English calcite alabaster quarry, but found out that it has been closed for some years. I then went to the Monestir de San Juan de las Abadesas in Catalonia to see the magnificent calcite alabaster alterpiece of St Augustin. And, with some difficulty, I tracked down some of the calcite alabaster quarries in the nearby Beuda region. The Beuda calcite alabaster deposit is very large, and hundreds of meters deep, stretching for many kilometers. But because they now use dynamite at Beuda to quarry the alabaster to sell as ground gypsum, this causes the alabaster to crack, so this very old source of calcite alabaster is no longer useful for sculpture. So my alabaster sculpture uses only the softer sulfate alabaster.
#15. Other materials
I also experimented with fine Spanish sandstone, and to my delight found that it was not too hard and could be polished to a high gloss. The downside of sandstone is that it can cause silicosis, a nasty lung disease, which means that I have to wear a mask when working this stone.
I also experimented with metal, and polymer sculpting clay. I did not much like them. I prefer natural materials. Working with wood was a final experiment that I started last year. All the beautiful wooden mediaeval alters and finely wooden carved church ornaments used limewood or tilo. I found that tilo could take a high polish, and was a lively material to work with. No wonder the mediaeval carvers chose this wood. In the end, my preferred materials are sandstone, alabaster and tilo.
To give you a sense of scale, my first work in limewood was 1.5 m squared. My work in stone tends to be modular since stone is so heavy. I tend to divide a project into blocks that I can lift and move myself without a crane. You might now understand how I also concluded that I could use my 30 years as an experimental scientist in this new career. To reinforce this fact, I named my St Narcis workshop The Laboratory of Experimental Sculpture.
I undertake my sculpture with the habits of a scientist. I make careful notes about new techniques, experiment with methods and materials, and test hypotheses. I told you earlier that new techniques push the boundaries of scientific knowledge. This is also true of sculpture. I have developed new techniques in sculpting and new materials. Let me give you a couple of examples.
#16. Artificial stone technique
The first technique that I developed was driven by necessity. I was making a very elaborate sandstone sculpture on the quantum world for a Nobel Laureate, and it was composed of about 10 individual units that were bolted together. One of the pieces formed a structural bridge between two of the big plates, and the shape was very twisted. It was imperative to make the fit perfect so it would give the visual illusion of being one piece. I realized that to carve this with such precision was beyond my abilities. So I decided to invent a type of artificial sandstone that could be precisely shaped to make the bridge. After a number of experiments, I succeeded and the artificial part was invisible. This was my first new material. So far it has lasted intact after 1.5 years of being continually underwater.
#17. Sanding techniques
The second technique that I explored related to sanding, both for stone and wood. The science behind sanding is rather little understood, and I spent some weeks experimenting with different methods and testing hypotheses.
I wanted my work in stone and wood to have a very high gloss finish that showed off the beauty of the natural material. The lustre of a polished piece comes about in most cases when surface crystals in the case of stone, or surface resins and biomolecules in the case of wood, become chemically modified, frequently after reaching their melting point and liquifying. It became clear that the method of sanding affected the outcome. At times when the melting point of the surface material elements is high, a mechanical method of sanding is necessary to melt those crystals (in the case of stone). I have avoided adding artificial items like varnishes in order to obtain a gloss finish. In the end, I developed a few different methods for sanding that varied according to the material, such as limewood, limestone, alabaster and sandstone.
As you see, I do science embedded in art. Or, art embedded in science. At the end of the day, I consider them to be the same thing.
#18. Additive and subtractive sculpture
Sculpting tends to be a subtractive technique where an original block of material is chipped away into an image. This famously leads to the situation where the nose accidentally gets chipped off the face! This is typical of stone or wood. Additive sculpting is what happens with materials like clay. The material is layered on and errors are easily corrected. Typically, sculpting is either subtractive or additive. But I am working on a piece for Harvard University where I am combining both additive and subtractive methods and 3D printing!
#19. I have 50 sculptures to do in 15 years
I have formulated a Masterlist of about 50 major biological themes that I would like to have completed during my remaining 15 years maximum time as an sctive sculptor.
#20. The virtue of essays to accompany sculptures
For me, each piece of sculpture must have a message, not just be a pretty thing or a curious image. I have generally found that writing short essays about the origins of the work, and what was in my mind at the time of creating the piece. Sometimes it is valuable to include time lapse reels of how the sculpture progressed.
#21. Science and art both draw on the subconscious
The lessons of the history of sculpture that I mentioned earlier led me to think a lot about the connections between art and science. Some people will tell you that art and science are polar opposites, using entirely different methods and with totally different objectives. I suggest to you, however, that they are two sides of the same coin, just different ways of investigating nature, and both drawing from the same pool of the creative subconscious. Both art and science are legitimate and serious enquiries into the nature of reality. When sculpting, I have found it best to disengage my conscious mind and let my hands do the thinking. Very often the results surprise me, and the solutions find their own way out. The hands have their own and different way of thinking than the conscious brain.
#22. Accessing the subconscious
I concluded that the source of most — if not all — of the creative impetus in art or in science is the subconscious mind. I therefore set about exploring techniques to try and enhance my access to my own subconscious. These techniques included extensive dream analysis and achieving altered states of consciousness during nightly meditations.
Let me give you a bit of background. As a young man I taught myself self-hypnosis, and later in life I studied with a medical hypnotist in Boston for two years. My interest in the subject of self-hypnosis was the ability to voluntarily reach a state of altered consciousness. I then did a period of extensive dream analysis, and many years of intensive psychoanalysis. These studies focused me on my subconscious. In this way, I have been persuaded through my life that the subconscious is the source of truly inspired creativity. I use both self-hypnosis and my dreamtime as critical resources to think creatively as a scientist and as an artist.
#23. Sculpting can be an altered state
What has also become surprisingly evident for me is that the very act of focused sculpting can itself lead to an altered state of consciousness. I lose all sense of time, I disengage my conscious reason and logic, and I assign all agency to my hands. This becomes my zone. I space out and enjoy this period of dissociation.
I suspect that this is in fact a common experience for artists and writers. I know of some other artists, composers and writers who have described similar experiences. Letting go of reason and logic and submitting to intuition and subconscious thinking reconstructs the world in a different way. Reality as we consciously experience it is just the outer edge of the story. The innerness is the interesting part.
Through the history of art there have been successive movements to try and access that innerness and describe the deeper reality. For me, the most authentic movement has been surrealism. Interestingly, they drew heavily on the work of Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung, and the quantum physicists. My work is leaning heavily in the surrealist direction.
#24. Conclusions
So let me wrap up this essay with a few conclusions. It was a totally unexpected revelation in Prague that made me become a sculptor, and it turned my life upside down. That in itself was a very unusual experience in my life.
But the strange way that these things so often unfold is that it actually brought a variety of my interests together. Sculpture allowed me to investigate nature in a completely different way. I began to use subjective qualia to replace objective data-driven science as a way to interrogate nature. Examples of qualia include the sensation of pain of a headache, the taste of wine, and the redness of an evening sky. This allowed me to make practical use of my years of study of the subconscious and the dream world.
Expressing ideas in a physical way is a very different mode of expression, for me at least. Without words or numbers. Touching the ineffable, the numinous. Where words and numbers fail. But more than that, sculpture has been a tool to access my unconscious mind and to explore this realm that has interested me for half a century. I have kept a journal for most of my life and this sculpture work has given it a whole new source of material.
Sculpting also allowed me to continue being an experimentalist. This has always been an activity that I have loved. I am constantly experimenting with my work. Since 2017 I have completed 58 sculptures, or about 8 per year.
#25. Installations of my sculptures in progress
STOMATA. Center for Genomic Regulation, Barcelona, in honor of Director and Professor Dr Luis Serrano PhD, who has been an innovator in science, patents and has created six new biotech companies and been involved with five others. He did a postdoc at Cambridge and was a Group Leader at EMBL.
https://www.crg.eu/luis_
MY WIFE’S LEFT EAR. Dr Luis Pareras MD PhD, a former neurosurgeon now a prominent Barcelona venture capitalist in biotech, artist and poet.
https://parerasletters.
FIRST ATOM AND QUANTUM FLUCTUATIONS. Two sculptures in honor of Professor Brian Josephson, quantum physics Nobel prize winner at the Cavendish Laboratories at Cambridge University, home of over 50 Nobel prize winners. Not afraid to investigate far out and highly controversial stuff.
http://www.tcm.phy.cam.ac.uk/~
EMBRYO. Professor Michael Payne PhD FRS HonFInstP, former Head of the TCM group in the Cavendish Laboratory Cambridge, , and one of the most highly cited Physical Scientist in the UK between 1990 and 1999, and has published more than 250 papers which have had over 22,000 citations.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/
DIATOM. Cambridge University Department of Applied Mathematics and Theoretical Physics, theoretical quantum physicist, Professor David Tong. A truly inspired lecturer on the quantum world.
http://www.damtp.cam.ac.uk/
RETICULATIONS. Professor Jane Clarke FRS FRSC FMedSci, Wolfson College President and biochemist, at Cambridge University, innovator in protein folding.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/
SINGLE PEA. Christ’s Hospital School England, in honor of Gregor Mendel who based his groundbreaking studies of plant inheritance on the humble pea (Mendelian inheritance).
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/
GYNOECIUM. Professor Stefano Mancuso, pioneer in plant intelligence and proponent of a plant bill of rights (The Nation of Plants), at the University of Florence, Italy. The mainstream biology community is apoplectic about both of his themes.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/
INFINITY. Professor Matheus Lobo, University of Brazil, theoretical physicist. Known for highly original brief open collaboration articles.
https://scholar.google.com/
PIECES OF SKY. Professor Avi Loeb, Director of the Institute for Theory and Computation at the Center for Astrophysics since 2007. He chaired the Department of Astronomy from 2011–2020, and founded the Black Hole Initiative in 2016. Has highly controversial views on extraterrestrial technology.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/
SARDINES IN A TIN. Professor Lou M. Kunkel PhD, former Chief of Genetics, Children’s Hospital, Harvard Medical School. Cloned the gene for dystrophin (Duchenne muscular dystrophy), for which I provided the sheep antibodies.
https://bchgenetics.org/
EMBRYOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE HUMAN FACE, a tribute to Professor CN Hales, installed at the main office of the Department of Clinical Biochemistry, Cambridge University.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/
EMBRYO, Tribute to Professor Mike Payne, The Cavendish Laboratories, Cambridge University.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/
