Russ Swan switches on the creative flow.
In these increasingly ghastly times, which we are mostly powerless to do anything about, finding a little harmless fun in the lab could be a good boost for mental health. Perhaps a little guerilla creativity is called for, to put the art into the, er, laborARTory.
The lab might not seem the natural place for artistic expression, but the potential is there and just needs a little imagination to unlock. Quite what possibilities await will depend on the lab itself.
Have access to a scanning tunnelling electron microscope? Nah, me neither, which is a pity. I’ve often fancied emulating some of the atomic-scale images made by hyper- precise location of individual atoms. Some researchers at IBM Almaden even created the world’s smallest stop-motion animation, A Boy and His Atom, in 2013.
Pixelation became an art form in its own right
Sadly, for them, the lab (where incidentally the inkjet printer was invented) has recently been closed and its scientists shifted to San Jose, victims of the so-called ‘consolidation’ of science in the USA. They quip that the company name stands for ‘I’ve Been Moved’, for its habit of regular relocation.
There’s clearly much potential in the microscopy world, from colourised electron microscope images (pollen grains, beetle bits, and so on) to the extraordinary alien universes revealed in microphotography. Nikon’s Small World competition never disappoints.
These still require some quite rarefied instruments though, as well as the opportunity to use them for non-core activities. In the world of deadlines and productivity metrics, such frippery might seem out of reach.
Fear not, for a potential masterpiece may be right in front of you. With a little work, obviously, and a tolerant line manager.
How many wells are there on your microplate? How many on your pipette tip rack? These could be elevated from humble utilitarian bits of bench furniture to become the canvas to your artwork.
The earliest digital cameras had resolutions so low that pixelation became an art form in its own right. There you go – a matrix of pixels just begging to be made into an image. A smiley face might be a good place to start, then let the inspiration flow!
For a more organic approach, consider the humble agar plate. As blank a canvas as could be: sterile, void, just pure nutrient looking for something to feed. Agar art is on the brink of becoming mainstream, with regular competitions and even career potential.
The lab might not seem the natural place for artistic expression, but the potential is there and just needs a little imagination to unlock
The idea is simple. Just inoculate the plate with selected microorganisms, chosen for the colour and perhaps texture of their developed colonies. Proceed as normal and watch the art create itself.
One artist who has taken this to the extreme is Dasha Plesen, also known as Daria Fedorova. Her extraordinary creations, mostly using moulds, have an otherworldly beauty which owes more than a bit to excellent photography.
Being a bit of a mischief maker, I’d be tempted to generate images to freak out the unwary and gullible. Pareidolia is generally associated with found objects that unnaturally resemble other things, often a human face, but there’s no reason it can’t occur in a carefully produced agar plate. With a bit of practice, you could arrange a spooky encounter for a colleague just in time for April Fool’s Day.
References:
A Boy and His Atom: https://youtu.be/oSCX78-8-q0?si=mfQv3HIboWetQJzb
https://asm.org/press-releases/2025/december/agar-art-contest-2025-winners-showcase-how-microbe
Dasha Plesen: https://dashaplesen.com
