On Thursday the 23rd of November 2004 the headline on the front page of  The West Australian stated: ‘Gene tests to pick junior sports stars’ (O’Leary, 2004: 1). The body of the text begins with the following  prediction: ‘Parents wanting to know if their child has what it takes  to be a sports star will soon be able to buy a genetic test for about  $100 from local sporting clubs and gyms’. Well, we thought, finally a  tangible outcome for the Human Genome Project (HGP). Is this is the  great promise that was delivered so ceremoniously four and a half years  ago? Exactly four years prior to the publication of the above story in  The West Australian we received a letter from the Wellcome Trust’s  Two10 Gallery inviting us to submit a proposal for a commissioned work  to an exhibition titled ‘Working Drafts: Envisioning the Human Genome’. 

This paper will explore the notion of Genohype, a term coined by Neil  Holtzman to describe the discourse of exaggerated claims and  overstatements concerning DNA and the Human Genome Project (1999:  409-10). Genohype depicts the hype generated by scientists, the media, the public and the arts with regard to genetic research. In the context  of this paper, Genohype is used in relation to the hyperbolic discourse  that has been attained by genetic research and its applied outcomes,  whether positive or negative. One of the effects of Genohype, as will  be illustrated here, is that genetics has become synonymous with all life sciences. In this paper, Genohype will be examined in relation to the  somewhat conflicting views with regard to the role of artists dealing  with the application of newly acquired knowledge, using our very own  Pig Wings Project as the case study. 
 

Genohype 

Nick Brown points out in his paper, ‘Hope Against Hype - Accountability  in Biopast, Present and Future’: 

… it is often the case that, for a time at least, various areas of technological innovation become saturated with stratospherically high expectations of immanent and revolutionary change. Biotech is no exception and is today synonymous with the language and imagery of  futuristic breakthroughs. The whole area is literally spilling over with heated aspirations, promises, expectations, hopes, desires and  imaginings. (2003: 3) 

How has biotechnology in general, and the Human Genome Project in  particular, dealt with these issues? Critical Art Ensemble addressed  aspects of this question in their Cult of the New Eve project.1 They  were interested in the type of rhetoric that is employed to sell  biotechnology generally and the HGP especially. They argue that the biotech industries needed to remove themselves from the dark past of  the biological-inspired ideologies of progress manifested in Nazism, by using rhetoric borrowed from religious discourse. This, in turn, created a new type of scientific promise that the public was less able to see through, creating more hype, unrealistic expectations and fears greater than other technoscientific developments. It is interesting to  note here that Craig Venter, who was the head of American company  Celera, stated in a conference that accompanied the Paradise Now  exhibition that he felt that the level of misunderstanding and misappropriation of biological knowledge at the beginning of the 21st century was similar to that in Europe during the 1930s (2000). The fact  that he and his company were somewhat responsible for the situation was  quickly brushed off and he went on to blame the media for creating the  hype. 

As early as 1994 (a year after the HGP began in the UK, known then as the British Human Genome Mapping Project), some scientists, such as  Professor of Biology Steven Ross, expressed their concern that  supporters of the project were ‘…guilty of extraordinary hype. They  call it things like the book of life, or the code of the codes’ (1994: 1123). This kind of rhetoric had reached an unprecedented level by the  June 2000 joint announcement of the completion of both the public and  the private working drafts of the HGP. Both Bill Clinton and Tony Blair  appeared in a press conference to announce this event.2  A short survey  of the press releases produced in that month by only one of the players  in the public HGP, the Wellcome Trust, revealed the extent of this  hype. The Director of the Wellcome Trust stated: 'A few months ago I compared the project to the invention of the wheel.  On reflection, it is more than that... But this code is the essence of  mankind, and as long as humans exist … is going to be important and will  be used' (Dexter: 2000). 

The Chief Executive of the Wellcome Trust Genome stated: ‘I think there  is something magical…. I think this is quite extraordinary and awe  inspiring’ (Morgan: 2000). But even the Wellcome Trust conceded in  February 2001 in an online article titled ‘History of the Human Genome  Project: The First Draft, June 2000’ that ‘The joint announcement was  probably more grandiose than the situation warranted but it ended concerns that one side or the other would be pre-empted, and it took  the pressure off in terms of press coverage’ (GF: 2001). The author of  this article, identified only by the initials ‘GF’, tried to soften  their tune by assuring us that: 

While the timing of the announcement may have been dictated more by  political than by scientific criteria, there is no denying the  importance of what has been achieved, and what will be achieved. The  next few years will be devoted to filling gaps in the draft sequence  and improving the overall accuracy. (GF: 2001) 

Contemplating the post-genomic future, we hear voices which advise  against being seduced by Genohype, These include, for instance, Neil  Holtzman, Director of Genetics and Public Policy at Johns Hopkins  University, who coined the very term Genohype: ‘Exaggerating the  importance of genetic factors stops people thinking about the need to  clean up the environment and tackle socioeconomic inequity (1999: 409).  His argument is with those who exaggerate the clinical benefits that  may occur as a result of the HGP. He describes claims, such as those  made in the editorial in Nature's ‘Genome’ issue that ‘…the  application of knowledge from the project will, in time, materially  benefit almost everyone in the world’ as ludicrous (1999). These  claims are based on the assumption that it will be possible to unravel  the polygenic forms of common diseases even though the clinical outcome  is determined by complex gene, environmental, and behavioral  interaction. In his view, however: 

It will be difficult, if not impossible, to find the genes involved or  develop useful and reliable predictive tests for them. It may keep the  ethicists and philosophers in business but I think the term ‘ethereal  debates' describes them best, for they are built on a house of cards.  The idea that we will be able to select genes we like and weed out  those we don't to produce customized children is absurd. (Holzman, 1999:  410) 

… much of the careful qualification of scientific texts is abandoned  for the more strident language of ‘breakthrough’, ‘the first’, ‘the  best’, ‘never before’. In other words, science communities suddenly  metamorphose themselves into the highly competitive news conventions of  the media code. When press releases arrive on the desks of science correspondents there is often precious little time to interrogate  claims about new cures and revolutionary promises. (2003: 14) 

Genohype as a dominant factor in the discourse of the new biology 

One of the outcomes of Genohype, at the level of public discourse, is  that everything biological becomes confused with genetics. We are  constantly surprised by how many people tend to associate engagement  with visceral messy cells, tissues and organs with the reductionist,  controlled, clean promises of Genohype. This seems to happen often with  reactions to art that deals with biology.  We experience Genohype in  relation to our own work. On numerous occasions we are referred to as  ‘genetic artists’ and our work, which deals with tissue engineering, is  described as ‘transgenic’. An example can be found in Suzanne Anker and  Dorothy Nelkin’s book, The Molecular Gaze: Art in the Genetic Age, where  we are said to produce transgenic artwork (2004: 95). In other cases,  the words genetics or DNA are somehow inserted into discussion of our  work for no apparent reason except as a result of the recurrence of  genohype. For example, a review of our work was titled ‘Giving (Real)  Life to Art: Genetics and tissue culture find new forms - and a new  audience’ (Fitzgerald: 2004: 66). Suffice it to say that in the body of  the text there is no mention of any issue concerning genetics. 

It is important for us to emphasize through our artistic or curatorial  work the diverse approaches encountered in biological art.3 These  deal with all levels of life from the macro to the micro and include  research about the social life of organisms, the whole body, tissues  and tissue culture, as well as genetics and DNA. Ironically, often the same work that criticizes the reductionist view of life is used  purposefully or by ill-informed people/journalists/curators to further  the hype of the absurd idea that ‘life is what is in the genes’. This  phenomenon is not restricted to writing about art but has penetrated  other media, such as the case of the ‘Who plays God?’ advertisement  from 1999 featuring a photograph of Vacanti’s mouse with a human ear  attached to its back. The add was sponsored by The Turning Point  Project, a coalition of technologically concerned and environmental  groups including Greenpeace, the Sierra Club and the American Public  Interest Research Group. The caption states ‘This is an actual photo of  a genetically engineered mouse with a human ear on its back.’ The text  rails against genetic engineering: 

The genetic structures of living beings are the last of Nature's  creations to be invaded and altered for commerce... the infant  biotechnology industry feels it's okay to ... reshape life on Earth to  suit its balance sheets... . Who appointed the biotech industry as Gods  of the 21st century... So far, there exist no half-human, half-animal  'chimeras' (like mermaids or centaurs) but we may soon have them.  (1999) 

The role of the artist 

During the peak of the HGP hype, we were Research Fellows at the Tissue  Engineering and Organ Fabrication Laboratory, Harvard Medical School.  We were an integral part of the laboratory personnel, surrounded by  scientists and researchers and participating equally in meetings and  forums with our scientific colleagues. We became more and more aware of  the transformation of knowledge as described by Brown. 

The head of our laboratory was sometimes accused of hyping his field of  research, tissue engineering, building unrealistic expectations with  regard to the ability and timeframe of growing custom-built spare  organs or neo-organs. We must admit that we were cautious in  celebrating our opportunity to join Dr. Vacanti’s laboratory and work  alongside his team. Our appreciation of him, for letting us inside the  inner workings of the laboratory to learn advanced tissue engineering  techniques, was tainted by our understanding that there is a greater role in appointing artists to his laboratory. While the scientist or  even the ‘responsible’ journalist should, at least in theory, report  things as they are and support their claims with facts and evidence,  the artist has the licence to imagine, to fantasise and to exhibit  unrealistic expectations of science and technology (such as in the case  of Australian artist Patricia Picinnini6). In the case of artists,  who are also research fellows at the same laboratory in Harvard, these  presumed separate realms of science/fact versus art/imagination can fuse into each other in the eyes of the wider community. There is a  greater chance of this if an exhibition of the artistic results is  framed in certain ways by curators and galleries and is marketed  through carefully worded press releases.  In simple terms, the artist  becomes part of the biotech hype. 

Can an artist deal with new technologies while maintaining autonomy and  a critical approach? 

‘What is it that the artists have that these corporate interests are  interested in? It is not the art, it is the access to the public  imagination’, Natalie Jeremijenko argues in her critique of the ‘Paradise Now’ exhibition (2000). We have noticed that in recent years there have been a  significant amount of exhibitions dealing with genetics or ‘Gene-Art’. Jackie Stevens explains this phenomenon in the following way: 

…art about biotechnology, especially with a critical edge, serves to  reassure viewers that serious concerns are being addressed. Even more  importantly, biotech-themed art implicitly conveys the sense that gene  manipulation is a ‘fact on the ground’, something that serious artists  are considering because it is here to stay. Grotesque and perverse visuals only help to acclimate the public to this new reality. (2000) 

People are ‘naturally artificial’…Technology cannot alienate people  from their naturalness, because they are already alienated by virtue of  their very condition. Language, technology and art teach people how to  articulate and even celebrate their ineradicable alienation. (2003:  27) 

Do artists cross a line when they breed plants or animals, or use the  tools of biotechnology? Scientists routinely cross the line. So do  farmers, businesspeople, military men, and doctors. Only artists and  certain religious people hesitate. Of course, one of the great human  dilemmas is that we do not know the extent of our powers. We invent  outrageously and as casually as we breathe, but we have no idea where  our inventions will take us. Extinction? Slavery? 1000 years in  Disneyland? Even if the Holocaust had never happened, we would have  good reason to worry about where knowledge of genetics and DNA will  take us.  We will need all the awareness we can muster to engage  evolution. To the extent that art favours awareness, the more artists  who cross the line the better. (2003: 47) 

In the context of the arguments and debates of this paper, what kind of  art can an artist do for a show dealing with the ‘biotech revolution’  that would not be serving the interests of Genohype? What kind of  projects should one submit as a proposal for a commissioned exhibition marking the so-called completion of the working draft of the Human  Genome Project? 
 

The commission 

In November 2000 we received an invitation for a commissioned work by  the Two10 Gallery in London, which is fully funded and operated by the  Wellcome Trust. This was accompanied by a brief summary of the  exhibition theme. According to our reading, the brief implied that by  following the gallery philosophy, which strives to ‘challenge received  ideas’ and ‘encourage critical dialogue about important cultural issues  (e.g. the HGP)’, we might critique the private side of the HGP. This  could be done, we surmised, by challenging the issues surrounding gene  patenting. So, we thought, this could be a role for artists that fitted  with the commissioning brief: to fulfil what Brown referred to as  unequal access to resources (in this case the artists’ unequal access)  in order to favour the Wellcome Trust version of the future over that  of the private interests in the HGP. 

We were somewhat surprised to receive this invitation, as our work had never directly dealt with genetics. It seems that the curators of the Two10 gallery fell victim to the Genohype for which their organization  was partly responsible. One can speculate that because our work uses  and deals with biological knowledge and application, it was assumed  that our work concerned genetics. We therefore decided to address the  type of Genohype that was generated by the HGP rather than directly  refer to the issues concerning the patenting of life or deal with the  direct effects of the HGP on medicine and pharmaceuticals. 

In the Pig Wings project we grew three sets of wings made out of pigs  mesenchymal cells (bone marrow stem cells) grown over/into  biodegradable/bioabsorbable polymers (PGA, P4HB). The wings size is 4cm  x 2cm x 0.5cm each and these were never intended to be implanted onto  pigs. The original proposal we sent as a response to the commission was  titled: ‘Wings detached – the good, the bad and the extinct:  Installation of three sets of bony wings, grown from pig stem cells’. In  our preliminary statement regarding this project we wrote: 

Wings detached – the good, the bad and the extinct can be seen as a  representation of the set of values that are attached to gene  technologies. The interpretation of genes is not a value free process.  Wings carry many associations with them. Cultural representations of  wings (mainly in Christian religious art) have been assigned arbitrary  values in relation to both shape and origin. Bird-like wings are  symbolically linked to the angels, representing their goodness and  purity. Bat-like wings are generally attached to the bad fellows of  mythology. But it might help us to remember that the implicit  humane/angelic continuum also carries the curse of the mythic Icarus,  who burnt his wings trying to fly too close to the sun. As the  existence of the Pterosaurs (winged lizards) was not widely known until  last century there is no culturally established value attached to their  extinct shape. Extinction as we know it may even become ‘extinct’ as  advances in biological technologies enable us to recreate extinct  organisms from DNA samples. On the other hand, new kinds of extinction  may arise, for example the extinction of the ‘bad genes’ by  genetic-based eugenics. Our cultural perceptions of these three  evolutionary solutions for vertebrate’s flight can be seen as  metaphorical analogs to our perceptions of gene technologies. 

The promises and hopes surrounding the Human Genome Project (both  private and public) sounded like fantastic claims just a decade ago.  Our attempt to make representations of wings made out of pig stems  cells is an exercise in putting things in perspective. Humanity (mainly  the English speaking part of it) has for generations made fun of the  idea that pigs might fly. Now that we are getting close to fulfilling  this dream, we can gauge how people will react to the fulfilment of  other fantastic claims. 

Stem cells are the working drafts organisms and tissues they  differentiate into. They are the raw material from which specialized  cells develop.  We know how to direct them to go down certain pathways  and even how to edit their instructions/expressions. This control  enables us to impose value system on genes and enact the processes  which lead to the creation of ‘the good, the bad and the extinct’. We  can also leave the ‘decision’ to the cells and examine the results of a  ‘natural’ situation with no social/cultural values attached. But would  we be able to spot the difference? Will pigs be able to fly one day? (The Tissue Culture & Art Project: 2000) 

In retrospect it is not surprising that our work was rejected, as this ironic piece strikes at the heart of the hidden agenda that involves  employing artists as agents in the service of Genohype. However, we never imagined that the rejection letter from the Two10 gallery and the  events that followed would illustrate this point so well that it became  for us an integral part of the whole Pig Wings piece. Due to copyright  laws we are unable to directly quote the letter of rejection from the  gallery but it is sufficient to say that it was a revealing document.  Both the artistic and scientific merits of our proposal were questioned  but one sentence in the letter presented a very interesting insight  into what the gallery perceived as the role of the artist. This was a  reference to the fact that the advisory group felt that our project  presented an unrealistic reflection of the public’s opinion of the  Genome. This is a somewhat unconventional view regarding the role of  artists in society. Artists are often described elsewhere as having a  unique view of the world, and are hailed as presenting subjective,  varied and unique observations about the world. Another point that was  raised in the letter was that the gallery felt our work would not fit  well with the other exhibits. 

Although we respected the rejection decision we felt we needed to  respond to these extraordinary claims by apologising to the Two10  gallery and the advisory group in a letter in the following way: ‘We  are sorry that our work did not reflect your perception of what the  public opinion should be’. Their response to this apology was that  their choice of words could have been different. But their main  objection was that they did not approve of our vision of what the  Genome represented. That was just too good for us to let go, so in  setting up the website for the Pig Wings project we included the  correspondence with the Two10 gallery as an integral part of the  project. This was part of our treatment of the Pig Wings project as a  process, art documentation or as ‘living art’ as argued by Boris Groys: ‘For those who devote themselves to the production of art documentation  rather than of artworks, art is identical to life, because life is  essentially a pure activity that does not lead to any end result’ (2004:165). Among these art documentation activities, Groys lists the creation of  unusual living circumstances, politically motivated art and so on. 

In the meantime, the Working Draft exhibition had been staged and to  our amazement we found the following statement in the curatorial essay  that accompanied the exhibition: 

With an open brief, literal translations of the theme were not  expected, nor did the artist have to reflect any specific ‘look’ or  imagery associated with the Genome. Nevertheless the results were  surprising. Major scientific discoveries inevitably attract a degree of  controversy, and the Human Genome Project is no exception. So having  expected an obvious degree of public debate to filter visually through  the works, we found the results instead to be more subtle and hence  potentially more interesting. And intriguingly, although the artists had no idea how others were  responding to the brief, there is a distinct visual coherence to the  overall display achieved through the artists' combining a harmonic  palette (including an over-riding incidence of salmon-pink) with  translucency. (Jones: 2001) 

For us this proved to be a form of resistance to being a passive agent  in the play of ‘Genohype forces’ whether sustained by financial bodies,  the media, curators and so on. By making the Pig Wings project a living  piece both in the literal sense and in the metaphorical one as  described by Groys we could unfold and reveal the ongoing politics  played out in the ‘Art and Science’ hype we find currently around. As Groys states: 

The practices of art documentation and of installation in particular  reveal another path for biopolitics: rather than fighting off  modernity, they develop strategies of resisting and inscription based  on situation and context, which make it possible to transform the  artificial into something living and the repetitive into something  unrepeatable. (2004: 177) 

What form of radical art can you perform when the media and private  companies suggest the most radical future scenario in ethics and  credibility is one presented by something like the cover story in The  West Australian? With the Pig Wings project we wanted to talk about  Genohype and the rhetoric surrounding the HGP. We asked whether pigs  would fly, and in the case where this eventuated (because no one knows  what to believe anymore) we wanted to see what type of wings they might  have. 

We are not sure whether our own strategy – the Pig Wings as living art  (and art documentation) exploring Genohype in an ironic way by  intentionally ’disappointing‘ the audience (realising that pigs cannot  fly with the wings we made) – is a useful one. We hope we are not  falling into self-righteousness and that we continue to be wary about  our role as artists manipulating living tissues in the age of Genohype. 

Dimitry Bultov wrote an article mentioning the Pig Wings as a  technological failure and in that fact becoming a more interesting  piece. Bultov explains: 

… artists transfer the emphasis of their activities from art production  to research of the conditions which give rise to works of art. As a  result of such an approach, artwork must fail first, in order to be  beautified later… I mean such kind of art activity which, while aiming  at a conscious expectation of failure’ and ‘misfortune’ of the project, has the purpose of representing some bans at functioning of an  artwork. As an example of such a strategy, I can mention the project  Pig Wings … Using tissue engineering technology which enables one to  cultivate organs and tissues of different organisms in vitro, the  artists have grown a pair of wings out of a pig's stem cells. And  though technological problems with transplantation of the  artificially-grown wings to a donor animal have been successfully  solved, the artists decided to close the project at this stage, not to  bring it to the stage of getting a real chimera. The conscious decision  not to complete the project points to the fact that it is precisely the  pre-programmed uselessness of the pig wings, that are wings only by  form, but are not designed for flying in their essence and inner  construction, which makes them a fact of art… . This kind of art  engineering has a distinct preventive character because, reporting the  failure of modern science and technology, it also gains a human  dimension and contributes to our idea that the world has once been  different and is still able to become totally different than it is.  (2000) 

Epilogue 

The original title of Wings Detached has been changed to simply the Pig  Wings Project.  The project has been exhibited in different  configurations internationally and featured in many media stories,  including the New York Times, Arte TV and more.7  In many instances the  galleries promoted their exhibition using statements such as ‘come and  see pigs flying in the gallery’ but the visitor only encountered small objects displayed in cheap jewelry boxes. Pig Wings embody the promise  and the disappointment, which underlies the rhetoric and hype of  scientific discoveries and implications. 
 

Endnotes 

1 For more, see http://www.critical-art.net/biotech/cone/index.html
As well as in Critical Art Ensemble (1998) Flesh Machine; Cyborgs,  Designer Babies, Eugenic Consciousness. New York: Autonomedia. 

2 ‘The Joint Statement’ by President Clinton and Prime Minister Blair was released on March 14, 2000 and can be viewed on line http://clinton4.nara.gov/WH/EOP/OSTP/html/00314.html

3 For example, BioDifference, the show we curated as part of the Biennale of Electronic Arts Perth 2004. For more see http://lwgallery.uwa.edu.au/program/2004/BioDifference and http://www.beap.org

4 ‘The nude mouse, a hairless mutant discovered in 1962, is immunodeficient, and thus does not reject tumor transplantations from other species’. Osburn, B., Klingborg, D. , Hart. J., Wood, L., Berchhin, M. W., & Dassler, A. and Kim, Y. R. K. ‘The Mouse in Science, Cancer Research’, the UC Center for Animal Alternatives, School of Veterinary Medicine, University of California, Davis. http://www.vetmed.ucdavis.edu/Animal_Alternatives/cancer.htm

5 The term meme was coined in 1976 by Richard Dawkins in his book, The  Selfish Gene, Oxford: Oxford University Press. In short, a meme is a  self-propagating unit of cultural evolution analogous to the gene.  Memes can represent parts of ideas, languages, tunes, designs, skills,  moral and aesthetic values and anything else that is commonly learned  and passed on to others as a unit. Like genes, memes can replicate and  mutate. 

6 Patricia Piccinini’s web site: http://www.patriciapiccinini.net/

7 The Pig Wings project has been shown in the 2002 Adelaide Biennial of Australian Arts http://www.adelaidebiennial.com/, Boston Cyberarts Festival 2003, http://www.decordova.org/decordova/exhibit/pigwings.html, Biennale of Electronic Arts Perth 2002, http://www.absolutearts.com/artsnews/2002/07/31/30159.html and more. 
 

References 

Anker, S. & Nelkin, D. (2004) The Molecular Gaze: Art in the Genetic  Age. New York: Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory Press. 

Brown, N. (2003) ‘Hope Against Hype – Accountability in Biopasts,  Presents and Futures’, Science Studies, Vol. 16, No.2: 3–21. 

Bultov, D. (2002) ‘The Grecian Horse of Young Art’, http://www.sitec.fr/users/akenatondocks/DOCKS-datas_f/collect_f/ auteurs_f/B_f/BULATOV_f/ACTIONBUL_F/BULATOV.htm

Critical Art Ensemble (1998) Flesh Machine; Cyborgs, Designer Babies,  Eugenic Consciousness, New York: Autonomedia. 

Dawkins, R. (1976) The Selfish Gene. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 

Dexter, M. (2000) ‘Comment by Dr Michael Dexter, Director, Wellcome Trust: 26 June 2000’, http://www.wellcome.ac.uk/doc_wtd002950.html

Fitzgerald, M. (2004) ‘Giving (Real) Life to Art: Genetics and Tissue  Culture Find New Forms – and a New Audience’, Time Magazine, August 23,  no. 33: 66–7. 

Gessert, G. (2003)  ‘Notes on the Art of Plant Breeding’ in J. Hauser (ed.) L’art Biotech Catalogue. Le Lieu Unique: France 

GF (2001) ‘History of the Human Genome Project: The First Draft’, http://www.wellcome.ac.uk/en/genome/geneticsandsociety/hg13f010.html

Groys, B. (2004)  ‘Art in the Age of Biopolitics’ in D. Bulatov (ed.) BioMediale: Contemporary Society and Genomic Culture. Kaliningrad  Branch, Russia: The National Centre for Contemporary Arts:164–7. 

Holtzman, N. (1999) ‘Are Genetic Tests Adequately Regulated?’ Science,  286 (4539). 

Jeremijenko, N. (2000) ‘A Response to Paradise Now’ http://cat.nyu.edu/~nhj2/investnow/response.html

Jones, D. (2001) ‘"Working Drafts": art of the genome’ 
http://www.wellcome.ac.uk/en/genome/geneticsandsociety/hg16f003.html

Kockelkoren, P. (2003) Technology: Art, Fairground and Theatre. Rotterdam: NAi Publishers. 

Morgan, M. (2000) ‘The first draft of the Book of Humankind has been read’, http://www.sanger.ac.uk/HGP/draft2000/mainrelease.shtml

O’Leary, C. (2003) ‘Gene Tests to Pick Junior Sports Stars’, The West  Australian, West Australian Newspaper Limited, p.1.

Ross, S. (1994) in C. Court, ‘Report calls for collaboration on genome research’ http://bmj.bmjjournals.com/cgi/content/full/308/6937/1123

Stevens, J. (2000) ‘Why are defense contractors suddenly sponsoring art about games? Why are biotech companies suddenly sponsoring art about genes?’ http://rtmark.com/rockwell.html

Tissue Culture & Art Project (1996 – onward) http://www.tca.uwa.edu.au

Tissue Culture & Art Project (2000-2001) The Pig Wings Project http://www.tca.uwa.edu.au/pig/pig_main.html