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I got a kick out of seeing this article in The NYTimes this morning in the light of 
the recent discussion of art and computers.

I read "Einstein's Dreams" a number of years ago; it's a lot of fun to read.

I was particularly interested in the comments of Dr. Lightman, astrophysicist turned 
writer:

"He said he had been thinking, he explained, about the tension between science and 
art, the rational and the intuitive.Einstein's dreams, he realized, were the bridge.

Dr. Lightman said he did not buy into Snow's 'two cultures' separated by a gulf, which 
he characterized as a 'negative perception.' Rather, he said, science and art are 
complementary to each other, 'two different ways of being in the world.' Science is 
about questions that have answers. Art is about questions that do notl It is the lack 
of answers and the sense of being haunted by them that gives art its power, Dr. 
Lightman said."

I would disagree with that characterization of art. For me, art gives answers to 
deeper questions; science is helpful as a tool that helps clarify what some of the 
questions might be; it also provides important information about the world that I need 
in order to clarify the issues that I need to pay attention to.

But I certainly agree that the two are related and I would argue, essential to each 
other. That connects to my belief that all elements in our lives are connected; are 
all part of a whole. As I've said before, the rational, emotional, spiritual, 
physical, etc. are all elements of a greater whole.

Selma

[EMAIL PROTECTED]


Lab Coat Chic: The Arts Embrace Science

January 28, 2003
By DENNIS OVERBYE 




 

We get tremory 

In this world with no memory 

Life makes only partial sense 

Knowing only the present
tense. 

You might have thought that "On the Electrodynamics of
Moving Bodies," the 1905 paper in which Albert Einstein
proposed the theory of relativity, would be an unlikely
subject for song and dance. After all, haven't art and
science been at war since the British scientist and
novelist C. P. Snow said so in a famous 1959 lecture, "The
Two Cultures"? 

The four lines quoted above are from the libretto of a
musical under development and sung last week in the
Kaufmann Theater at the American Museum of Natural History.
Called "Einstein's Dreams," produced by Brian Schwartz and
written by Joanne Sydney Lessner and Joshua Rosenblum, it
is based on the best-selling novel of the same name, a tone
poem of ruminations on time and mortality in early
20-century Switzerland by Dr. Alan Lightman. The producers
have their own dreams of a Broadway run. 

Remarkably, that was not the sole relativity show in town
last week. A completely different adaptation of "Einstein's
Dreams" is playing until Feb. 1 at the Culture Project
Theater in Greenwich Village. 

If you squint hard enough, you can imagine a cultural
moment occurring. 

On Saturday at the Sundance Film Festival in Utah - the
mecca of independent filmmakers, epitome of gritty cool -
the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation handed out the first of its
$20,000 awards, to be given yearly, for films about science
or technology. The winner, "Dopamine," directed by Mark
Decena and written by him and Timothy Breitbach, is a
romantic comedy about a computer engineer who believes that
love is merely a chemical reaction and a schoolteacher who
has a more romantic bent. 

All this follows a string of plays that deal with science
or scientists that have lighted up Broadway and beyond, led
by "Copenhagen," about two physicists arguing about the
atomic bomb, and "Proof," about mathematicians, each
winning a Tony Award for best play. A year ago, "A
Beautiful Mind," based on Sylvia Nasar's biography of the
troubled mathematician John Nash, won the Oscar for best
picture. 

Meanwhile, a glossy new science magazine, Seed, dedicated
to documenting "the global science scene" and promising
never to put a dinosaur on the cover, has begun putting out
issues with fashion models on the cover and articles on
biowarfare inside. 

Once, a decade or so ago, there were Science Wars.
Scientists were being pilloried by religious conservatives
for undermining spiritual values and by postmodernists for
their pretensions of objectivity. If the scientists were in
the movies, they were the bad guys, chasing E. T. 

Are we now on the verge of Science Chic? 

Science will, of
course, always be hip to scientists. Should they care
whether anyone else thinks they are hip? Like the rest of
us, they would like a date for the prom or a table at Nobu.
And the perception of uncool presents a recruiting problem
for the next generation. 

But the hippest thing, any scientist will tell you, is the
thrill of the intellectual chase and the discovery itself,
the moment you alone know something new about the genome or
the 11th dimension. 

Translating that thrill into the popular culture has always
been a hard sell. "If we judge by movies and TV, science is
a nonstarter," said Dr. Leon Lederman, a Nobel laureate and
a former director of the Fermi National Accelerator
Laboratory who has been involved in an effort to develop
and sell an "ER"-style television series about scientists. 

When this writer sent e-mail requests to astronomers and
physicists for memorable portrayals of science, there was
nothing but complaints. Movie producers, they said, often
spend a lot of money to get small details right - Post-it
notes on the computers in "Contact," snippets of authentic
jargon or real equations in "Good Will Hunting." Yet they
get the big picture wrong, often portraying scientists as
madmen or geeks. 

"On the other hand," said Dr. Sean Carroll, an
astrophysicist at the University of Chicago, "we don't
necessarily do so bad compared to doctors or lawyers, I
would guess." 

The Sundance Award is the latest step in a multipronged
effort by the Sloan Foundation to redress the situation by
encouraging filmmakers, writers and playwrights to explore
scientific and technological themes. The effort includes
collaborations with the Ensemble Studio Theater and the
Manhattan Theater Club to commission and produce new plays.


The film project began six years ago with awards and
workshops in film schools, said Doron Weber, program
director of the foundation, and it has been working its way
up the food chain since then. 

The point of such films, which scientists do not always
get, is not to "teach" science - an effort that is
invariably fatal to a novel or a movie. "You can treat the
drama of scientific thinking," said Dr. Lightman, who was a
Sundance judge. 

A trim soft-spoken man with a slight Southern accent, Dr.
Lightman was an astrophysicist with degrees from Princeton
and Caltech before he gradually shifted his energies to
writing. 

He said the idea for his novel came to him first as a
title. He had been thinking, he explained, about the
tension between science and art, the rational and the
intuitive. Einstein's dreams, he realized, were the bridge.


Dr. Lightman said he did not buy into Snow's "two cultures"
separated by a gulf, which he characterized as a "negative
perception." Rather, he said, science and art are
complementary to each other, "two different ways of being
in the world." 

Science is about questions that have answers. Art is about
questions that do not. It is the lack of answers and the
sense of being haunted by them that gives art its power,
Dr. Lightman said. 

"Einstein's Dreams," published in 1993, is a series of
poetic parables in which different notions of time apply.
Dr. Lightman said that the film rights had been optioned
several times, but that no one had been able to figure out
what to do with it. 

On the other hand, he estimated that 15 to 20 versions of
his novel had been produced on stage. He has not seen all
of them. "Sometimes we don't even know about them until
afterward," he said. 

Now, in terms of audience and money, the lowliest martial
arts movie is a bigger deal than the biggest Broadway
splash. So if physics seems to be doing better on stage
than on screen lately, maybe that is because plays require
fewer resources. So they can afford to be experimental. Or
maybe it's just that words, and thus ideas, are more
important in theater than in the movies, a visual medium. 

But a recent immersion in "Einstein's Dreams," the plays,
made one wonder whether the Janus faces of science and art
might melt together more easily in the shadowy half-light
of the stage, where a little greasepaint and our own
conspiring imaginations help create the scene, than in the
blinding information-rich literalness of celluloid. 

Halfway through a Holderness Theater Company production of
"Einstein's Dreams," written by Kipp Erante Cheng and
directed by Rebecca Holderness, there occurs a moment that
can only happen in theater. In a passage from the book,
Einstein plays the violin and wonders whether he should
leave his wife. 

In the play a baby-faced, frizzy-haired Einstein, played
with mute intensity by Jared Coseglia, picks up his wife,
Mileva (Kate Kohler Amory). She wraps her legs around his
waist, and he walks around playing her, sliding the violin
bow across her backside. 

Einstein looks as if he is thinking, but it is our own
thoughts that seem to matter. A man making love to a woman?
A scientist coaxing secrets out of nature? Who is this man?
What is this alchemy called science? 

It reminded me of a scene near the end of "Copenhagen,"
when the German nuclear physicist Werner Heisenberg thinks
out loud as he begins to run a calculation crucial to the
atomic bomb through his head. Suddenly a flash and an
apocalyptic roar - Einstein's darkest dream - flood the
theater. If Heisenberg does the calculation, the Germans
build their bomb and history is horribly altered. 

At moments like this, theater returns to its mythic roots
as a place where the actual and the symbolic, the sacred
and profane, pity and awe, meet. Once it was the gods
giving us grief. But the lesson of the 20th century has
been that they have left the house. 

Now it is just us on the stage we have conjured, with the
godlike powers and responsibilities that science has given
us - and with it the possibility of truly godlike failures.
Science is the new mythology. 

"There is a hope that science will open like a flower and
reveal to us how we came to consciousness," Ms. Holderness
said. 

Her company had been looking for a break from doing
Shakespeare, she said, and she was attracted by the
language and "big ideas" in Einstein. 

"There is a strong quest for God in Einstein," Ms.
Holderness said. "If you're going to spend a lot of time in
a dark room, you might as well have something to think
about."

http://www.nytimes.com/2003/01/28/science/28ESSA.html?ex=1044765755&ei=1&en=49a844bb022df1d2



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