
CĆ©rebro ā Mais vasto que o cĆ©u/, Gulbenkian Foundation, Lisbon, Portugal, to 10 June
A FEW steps inside the Gulbenkian Foundationās latest exhibition, a crowd of visitors halts, entranced. There is a faint collective āWowā as they look up. In a twilight space, an enormous video screen shows a slice of human brain, but with its long, looping pathways and layers of nerve cells shimmering in gold.
Colours change, the viewpoint slowly shifts and zooms, explores fine tangles of dendrites and the curves of axons before returning slowly to the big view.
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It takes a minute to see that this isnāt a real brain slice; it is a video of a hyper-real, microetched representation of the brain, computer-generated by neuroscientist Greg Dunn and physicist Brian Edwards. They call the work Self Reflected. In its idealised perfection we see what a wonder the brain is, and how astonishing it is that these soft loops and tangles are what creates the feeling of being āmeā.
The exhibition, CĆ©rebro (Brain), is off to an extraordinary start. Its curator, Rui Oliveira, a neurobiologist at Portugalās , tells me that he wanted to bring arts and science together to create an āemotional, sensorial and intimate environment that would make people feel amazed and instantly engagedā. He has succeeded, because what follows is an exhibition that continually renews our wonder at what science reveals.
Laid out in elegant diagrams on pale grey surfaces in an intimately lit space, there is plenty to read on three big themes: the brainās origins and complexity; the emergence of the mind; and the future of the brain in AI and robotics. But the wonder comes from the many exhibits that āenable people to experience their own brain in actionā, as Oliveira puts it.
āThe viewersā brainwaves become a collective ābrain orchestraā, which creates a wonderful musical pieceā
For example, I play a game of telekinetic Mindball against a stranger. We sit at opposite ends of a long table, wearing brainwave monitors. A tiny ball sits on the table, its movements driven by magnets controlled by our brainwaves. The goal is to roll the ball towards your opponent. I focus hard, but my adversary radiates peace. The ball rolls to me and it is over. I learn too late that āto win you must be calmer than your opponentā. Perhaps meditators have found their sport.
At the exhibitionās heart is the chance to see your brain working creatively. Electroencephalogram headsets let you see your multiple brain rhythms in coloured bars and within a rotating schematic of your brain on a giant screen. Simultaneously, all the viewersā brainwaves are translated into a soundscape mixed into a music base, so that the collective ābrain orchestraā creates an emergent musical piece. It is wonderful.
We learn, too, that our short-term memory isnāt so great when we come up against Ayumu, a chimp living at the Primate Research Institute in Japanās Kyoto University. I could recall the locations of five digits on a screen easily. Seven was tough; at nine, Ayumuās skills were far superior.
The show occupied me for 3 hours: it had plenty to teach about the brain and even more about keeping our brains amazed. Sadly, the exhibitionās organisers say there are no plans to tour.