The four, final degree shows were held by our MA graduating students.
Each presentation was the output of research conducted whilst on the ASN programme. Project summaries are in the posts below.
The white ramp stretches to the sky
The kid is surrounded by the rising sun flame
No one notices that
he climbs onto the ramp alone
without any fear
Jump one leap
With the endless longing to the sky
he finally jumps into its hug
and turns to be a vapour trail
Vapour Trail (Japanese Song)
There is an inherent longing from humans to the sky, the desire to explore what cannot be touched. Early in the Chinese Ming Dynasty (the 14th century), Tao Chengdao, expressed this desire by sitting on a chair with forty-seven rockets attached and holding a kite – humanity’s first attempt at flight. What could not have been envisaged by Tao Chengdao, was how, now in the 21st Century, the human footprint has stretched to the world of the sky.
With almost 40 million flights per year, the pollution exceeds that produced by cars. Yet it is still an industry with a beautiful false appearance.
In every bitter cold season, the sky becomes clearer. On sunny days, these white giant birds weave white vapour trails against the blue sky backdrop. Poets and composers use romantic language to describe these beautiful, ephemeral trails. For example, xYz, a poet and artist from England, wrote a poem named Contrail1. Also, there is a very famous Japanese song, Poetry of a Bird2. In these works, vapour trails are no longer a simple physical phenomenon, but become a metaphor for all that represents youth, the yearning for the sky.
When I first came to Scotland, it was autumn and the weather was turning cool. On a journey to the Isle of Lewis, in the north-west of Scotland, I was attracted to vapour trails for the first time. Without the shelter of buildings and veil of urban pollution, the stripe of white lines crossing the sky appeared outstanding in the open Hebridean landscape. On my return to Edinburgh, I became amazed at the volume of vapour trails that were visible on clear days.
In fact, these beautiful vapour trails have great greenhouse effects. No matter from unit emission volume or the total climate emission effects, the emission of aircraft’s tail gas is much stronger when compared to vehicle. According to a survey from Environmental & Science Technology, because of the long distance of an air trip, the temperature increase caused by aircraft emission (318×10-15K/per passenger hour) is 40 to 50 times compared to the impact caused by vehicle (6×10-15K/per passenger hour) in first 5 years, and also very obvious in the next 20 years.3
The first work I made on the theme of vapour trails was ‘Vapour Trail Circle’ for the exhibition, ‘BONDS’ at the Edinburgh Centre for Carbon Innovation. Here, I found that in the twelve hours from 6 am to 6 pm, there are 136 flights departed from Edinburgh Airport. I collected 136 vapour trails, through photography and composed a circle on a blue background with the radiating lines. The work was intended to use aesthetic beauty to raise awareness of a major pollutant. I also highlighted the scale of the global problem through interpretive text.
As part of my final project, I created a cubic work named ‘Exhaust Ports’ using aluminium alloy, a material widely used in aircraft construction. Echoing this construction, 180 holes are drilled in the surface of the cube. Using dry ice, there is a steady flow of visible CO2 emanating from the sculpture.
I am also presenting two video works. The first work, ‘Vapour Trail’ l was filmed from inside a plane. It shows the creation of a vapour trail made by the wing vortex being made visible by the water vapour. It is a vapour trail filmed from close proximity.
Due to the weather condition and atmospheric pollution, vapour trails are almost never seen above some urban areas in China. This work is intended to have particular resonance with an audience unfamiliar with the phenomena.
The second work is also filmed from on board a plane, but focuses on another aspect of pollution in the sky. ‘Illusion’ shows a mass of moving, changeable clouds. At first appearing as a natural scene, the ‘cloud’ is actually from industrial pollution.
- Contrail. xYz
- Poetry of a Bird/Tori No Uta. Singer: Lia. Composer: Maeda Jun & Orito Shinji
- Borken-Kleefeld, J., Berntsen, T. and Fuglestvedt, J. (2010). Specific Climate Impact of Passenger and Freight Transport. Environmental Science & Technology, 44(15), pp.5700-5706.
At Granton, on Edinburgh’s north coast, construction waste has been used for a land reclaimation scheme. Thick concrete slabs and bricks, on which barnacles and seaweed are growing, pile up on the coast and rusty steel bars stand still, pointing into the sky. The waste, in the glow of the dusk, looks like the debris and ruins of a fallen city.
The rising tides appear to have crushed the rocky coast, swallowing these stones, foreshadowing that the city will be eroded in the ocean due to the climate-driven sea-level rise. Studies by National Oceanography Centre (NOC, 2017) illustrate that sea level tends to experience a significant growth in over 90% coastal areas of the whole world by 2040, leading to 20cm higher than the global estimate with 2 degrees centigrade warming. This catastrophic process highlights the conflict and contradiction between human power and the power of nature.
My work ‘Erode’ uses material collected from Granton – broken bricks, crooked concrete slabs, door head ornaments, fragments of stone floor etc.—record a frozen moment from the sea’s imminent reclamation of the land.
During my Bachelor’s architecture study, I spent time thinking and designing the inner space, for human activitiy, tangling with demands, site, environment, materials, temperature, functions and localization. However, this year, my focus and concerns shifted from the space created by materials to the materials themselves.
I present three cast concrete panels in the manner of paintings, drawing attention to concrete texture, quality, and color. In ‘Concrete Works, Ⅰ- Ⅲ’, the material is converted into a protagonist, from the byplay of architectural space.
On an ASN field trip to the Isle of Lewis, in Scotland’s north-west I found that the coast is covered in thick seaweed and scallop shells, the scallop shells being a bi-product of the fishing industry. In this environment I collected man made items which, like the Granton work, were in the process of being reclaimed by the sea – a piece of circuit board, a plastic machinery component, a switch – all polished by the sea water and being colonized by seaweed. Ocean pollution, piling up of the non-degradable plastic, all reflected on this one coast. The non-degradable plastic may impose detrimental impacts on large marine animals as the ‘single greatest threat’ (Karleskint et al., 2009: 536). In the process of degrading, plastics release toxic chemicals are into the water, e.g. bisphenol A and polystyrene which are harmful to marine life (Knight, 2012: 12).
These items became components of ‘Trash’ for the exhibition ‘(in and out of) CONTEXT’ at Tent Gallery. Here I engaged with the architectural space of the gallery and made a colour-plane painting directly on the gallery wall. The collected items were arranged against this sea-blue backdrop – floating on the ocean, connecting each other yet drifting apart. Abandoned by humans the objects begin their circulation in the natural world.
I continued this work in a series of small-scale sculptures ‘Coastal objects’, combining man-made materials—concrete and resin, with shells, seaweed and sand, showing the texture, morphology and even smell. Man-made materials and nature forcibly combined, become a mutual intrusion. The presentation of these everyday objects in the gallery is an act of giving them value. I was also considering the paradoxical imitation of nature in the man made materials – concrete to stone, resin to water. They are equalized in the marine environment by being in a process of erosion, marking time.
Searching for the natural meaning of existence encourages my explorations and research. In response to an ASN field trip to the Flow Country, in the North of Scotland. I was astonished by the open moss-covered landscape, appearing like a vast red and brown seascape. In response, I made an artists’ book, ‘Panorama of the Flow Country’, focusing on the winter colors of the plant life. The work looked at both the vastness of the landscape and the role the tiny plant forms (peat moss) plays in forming the bogs.
The wetness of the landscape was also addressed in the exhibition ‘ Bond’ in Tent gallery where droplets of water were replicated in resin and presented on a peat coloured canvas, presented as a floor piece.
Jevrejeva, S., Jackson, L., Riva, R., Grinsted, A., & Moore, J. (2017, April).
Sea level rise with warming above 2 degree. In EGU General Assembly Conference Abstracts (Vol. 19, p. 3637).
Karleskint, G., Turner, R., & Small, J. (2012). Introduction to marine biology. Cengage Learning.
Knight, G. (2012). Plastic pollution. Capstone Classroom.
My work for the ‘Ropes of Sand’ exhibition at An Lanntair Gallery, in Stornoway, consisted of a work ‘Sand’ which was the culmination of a series of printmaking experiments using natural materials. In this way, I worked directly with the landscape, using my previous experience in block printing.
At the coast, I collected some local sand and plants and kept them in a notebook. After returning, the mark left on the paper inspired me a lot. Collecting materials is a form of record while using the material to print mark can also be used as a record. In the 18th century, people used the plants, animals, rocks, and other natural subjects to produce an image for record.  This brought a direct approach to the printing process, unfamiliar from the traditional printing technique. Amongst the materials tested in my experimentation was the moss, Haplocladium microphyllum, a component of peat beds.
Printing, directly, from real objects shows great detail of the texture that changes the first impression and contributes to the growth of new impression.
On a further ASN fieldtrip to the Flow Country, I encountered Sphagnum moss on a vast scale. The Flow Country is the common name for the vast peatland blankets of Caithness and Sutherland – mainland Scotland’s most northern counties. Peat has been forming here for thousands of years and reaches, in some places, up to five metres in depth. As well as storing over 400 million tons of carbon, this area is a stronghold for a wide variety of wildlife. In the 1980s, a vast area of the unique Flow Country habitat was damaged through drainage and commercial conifer plantations. Due to changes in land use over the years, much of bog was lost. Practical restoration work has now been implemented to restore the Flow Country to its original value. The blanket bog is being revalued as a carbon sink.
In response to this, I made a series of artist’s books in the form of letters. The books were made from paper using dried fibrous moss. The letter and envelope form was chosen to represent the tactile and participatory revaluing of Sphagnum moss.
For my final project, I decided to focus on moss and in particular, its scale – tiny in detail yet creating vast landscapes. ‘Mosaic Field’ is a wall painting, where a vast landscape impression is made. This ‘landscape’ is in fact a Sphagnum moss print, greatly enlarged and projected onto the wall.
After collecting Sphagnum (a genus of approximately 380 accepted species of mosses, commonly known as peat moss) from the landscape, I began to examine the sample in detail. Growing as individual strands, the upper part of the plant continues to grow, while the lower part of it is gradually dying. The leaves consist of two kinds of cells; small, green, living cells (chlorophyllose cells), and large, clear, structural, dead cells (hyaline cells). The latter has the large water-holding capacity.
What is most often seen is the vitality of living cells, but all of those are based on the foundation of death. Death does not mean the end, it is just another form of existence.
Generally, moss is a combination of constant death and regeneration. “Whether life can be eternal?” has always been a question. Moss looks like an eternal life, repeating death and rebirth, repeatedly, the cycle of life never stopped.
In response, I created ‘Strands’, a piece made from several strands of moss, the relationship between death and life made more visible in this form.
Using various forms of microscopy, I made further observations of peat moss. The individual peat moss plant consist of the main stem, with tightly arranged clusters of branch fascicles usually consisting of two or three spreading branches and two to four hanging branches. The top of the plant, or capitalism, has compact clusters of young branches. Along the stem are scattered leaves of various shapes, named stem leaves; the shape varies according to species. Stem cross section was round, with a simple structure. There are two parts of stem: the skin and the central axis. From the cell level, whilst the cellular structure of moss is relatively simple, as Ralf Reski mentioned “Mosses are tiny plants with a simple body plan: They have no roots, no flowers and do not produce seeds. Therefore, they were for a long time considered to be simple organisms also at the genetic level.” , the world of microscopy revealed a new world of shapes and structures.
I have created a series of prints from microscopy photography, entitled ‘Microcosm’.
These detailed views are presented as a set of counterpoints to the more expansive, wall painting
 Green, J. and Stallybrass, P. (2006). Benjamin Franklin, writer and printer. New Castle: Oak Knoll Press.
 ScienceDaily. (2017). Moss beats human: Simple moss plants outperform us by gene number. [online] Available at: http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/08/130805112953.htm [Accessed 6 Aug. 2017].
From The Story on The Island
When I was on the field trip to the islands of Lewis and Harris, I heard a story: Due to climate change, Bluefin Tuna (Thunnus thynnus) are increasing in numbers, migrating north. They are now regularly found off the Western Isles in the summer months. Recently a skipper caught a 500lb Bluefin. However, without a commercial licence he was not permitted to sell the fish was shared out with many of the islanders.
Skippers sing and dance after night, as skippers narrate their stories.
Skippers live in boats, skippers live on the ocean.
Skippers come from a utopia, skippers have party all day long.
This story indicates a fundamental relationship between humans and the ocean, it also carries more intensive meanings about skippers’ community based fisheries. In response, I experimented with a work entitled, ‘Skippers’ Party’.
A pyramid was suspended in front of a video projection. The pyramid is covered with the marine and sliver colour of tuna and the shape of tuna’s head, tail, and back fin. With human figures depicted down another side of the pyramid, indicating where this story came from and using skippers’ party as a sharing utopian metaphor. The shadow of the pyramid, against the projected image, combines the human with the ocean.
A Dialogue Between Human and Ocean
‘One upcoming tragi-comedy or one tragedy past. Life blooms by the sea and fades away, as tides grow and ebb. We hardly tell the length and width of time, while time herself, witness the occurrent funeral.’ — Le Cimetière Marin（The Graveyard by the Sea）
A further work, ‘The Graveyard by the Sea’ was developed for the ‘Ropes of Sand’ exhibition at An Lanntair Gallery, Stornoway. In this, a moment witnessed was replicated. I had seen a floral tribute from a graveyard blown onto a beach. Time gives human the ruler to measure the length of universe. The work contrasts the vastness of the ocean with the individual human scale. About 3.8 billion years ago, when the land was deserted, the roaring sea gave birth to the life, the most primitive cells, its structure is similar to modern bacteria. In the ocean, over millions of years, primitive single-celled algae evolved. The gravitation of the moon offers the ocean tides, as high tide lap the coast and low tide exposes the vast shoals in the sunlight, providing the intertidal zone and made it possible for land creatures to develop. At the same time, numerous original forms die, developing step by step, life comes and goes, and human life becomes a small part of this huge evolutional timeline. Just like a flower for the funeral, drying on the beach.
The Silver Darlings
Historically, the Atlantic herring has played a pivotal role in the marine fisheries of Scotland. The growth in demand for herring, is causing concern with the sustainability of stocks. The herring population may, some day, fade away. It indicates the relationship between human and ocean, sea life being at the base of the food chain and the pyramid. With the development of technology, the traditional herring fishing techniques were gradually abandoned, replaced by highly efficient trawling boat with nets, which will sweep the whole seabed, destroying the environmental and biological chain.
Since human life is highly relative to the ocean, we make false gods in our over exploitation, overturning the pyramid. These silver darlings hide under water, as the vortex utopia, turning the broken pyramid upside down, smoothly.
I have created a wall painting ‘The Silver Darlings’ which abstracts the linear language of the herring industry, to respect the old school techniques. Through my work there is a dialogue between the structure, figures of herring fishing and shapes with lines. All the straight lines carry the strength deep inside the Scottish skippers and the spectacular landscape through the long history. The horizon separates the sky and ocean, leaves the half circle sunset above as well as the moon reflection on the surface. The combination of two triangles not only reflects the relationship of nearness and distance, but also represents the meanings hourglass, pyramid and herring vortex. Those symbols indicate the large human consumption of the herring itself, the ocean and the whole environmental resources, which brings tension and caution to the Anthropocene age. The vortex of silver herring surrounds our human society, like a star atlas, as humans ignore their endangered existence, they are never just beneath human, they are highly above, in the roaring ocean.
The red/brown background paint on the wall comes from the typical sail of herring shifter used through 18th to 19th century, when the sails were protected from rotting by the use of tannins.
In a set of photographic prints, ‘Echoes’ this geometric language is developed in linear drawings on images of the sea captured from a sailing boat on Lewis. The parts such as masts, sails, ropes and yards mould several geometric simplified patterns. These patterns such as triangles, trapezoids and the combination contain some deeper meanings and metaphors excluding the simplified shapes.
Two scalene triangles reflect the relationship of nearness and distance, an upper herring vortex, a downside pyramid and a time glass indicating the consumption of ocean. The contract between softness of waves and the strength of silver lines, just like a seagull slide over the sea surface，overlooking the complex humanity deep in the ocean.
Two circles come from the nets hanging on the mast representing nets in operation behind the trawling boats. Besides, with the strong sunlight, luminous beams caught by camera, will form the marvellous circular sunlight spot on the picture. The reconstruction with the shape of sails and hulls offers further metaphors as well, these images help to guide audience imagine and creative the action of herring fishing from basic lines and structures.
‘Homeland’, from studio experiments, the intimate yet contrast relationship between the Atlantic Blue and Sail Red presents various metaphors on the plinth like a water tank. The environmental and geographical advantages of Scotland provide a glorious history of fishery industry and this tradition past generation by generation. Islands are home of skippers on the land, herring drifters are home of skippers on the ocean. With the visually impact effect of the blue and red colours, the island or the drifter floating on the ocean in, from the beginning of their life, becoming the destiny, fate and final destination of skippers.
Ocean roars, especially Atlantic Ocean. Old skippers tell their most perilous stories with smiles, because they fight it, live with it, and live on it, by the strength deep inside their character. The font of text comes from names of typical Scottish herring drifters such as Reaper FR958 and Research LK62. The colour painted on the wall is chosen with the typical Atlantic dark blue, with a hint of shade, just like the roaring ocean under the stormy sky, with endless strength.