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Fungi Dinner
My cousin Patrick is a chef in Quebec. He came to visit me last summer and one morning suggested that he could make dinner so we proceeded to Granville Market and wandered up and down the aisles between the stalls while he crafted recipes of the most enticing ingredients available that day.
After dinner we started talking about our practices. He was undergoing a career transition due to a life threatening illness caused by a rare fungus and I was grappling with the direction of my practice after a residency in Holland.
We went our separate ways and I began a course of research focused on human and fungi relations. During this time, I participated in a number of events and fieldtrips organized by the Vancouver Mycological Society. These brought together the amateur mycologist’s interests in the culinary, medicinal and aesthetic aspects of fungi. Over time, I realized that I wanted to create something in the locus of fungi, culinary events, science and art. Something that created new compositions between these practices and the forces at play in them.
I contacted Patrick and we started discussing the potential of a solely fungi dinner. I told him that I was really interested in the sensory aspects of fungi as food. From there he began to design a series of eight courses drawing from a wide range of available mushrooms and cultural influences.
When I received the recipes, I immediately began shopping. This became an activity in itself as I went from shop to shop in search of rare ingredients. One major coup was to find this one-pound portion of a wild oyster mushroom in the Granville market.
Once I had the majority of the ingredients I began to prepare the recipes in the order set out by Patrick. Some recipes such as this cream-based…. mushroom lasagna with rosemary and thyme which required about three hours of preparation and an equal amount of time to cook in a water bath. I had to set my alarm for 3:30 in the morning so I could place it in the refrigerator after it had cooled. For days, I was immersed in a world of measurements, temperatures, tastes and textures.
After three days of food preparation, I wrapped everything up to take to Randy Lee Cutler’s kitchen where I was hosting the fungi dinner. At 7:00 on Saturday everyone arrived. The 10 guests included friends and colleagues from Emily Carr as well as the Vancouver Mycological Society.
The evening was set up for the eight courses to be served at intervals starting with the roasted mushroom salad with tarragon dressing. This was the menu for the evening….
You will notice, here that I also created intervals where I invited participants to speak about their relations with fungi.
Patrick was brought in via Skype and I used an external camera to make all of the diners visible to him. I invited him to talk about his inspiration for the dinner and the challenges of creating an all fungi menu. He spoke about wanting everyone to experience the unique flavour and taste of each type of mushroom as opposed to the usual garlic and butter treatment that tends to make the flavours rather uniform. He also wanted to draw upon the different cultural uses of mushrooms in cuisine. In a few of the Asian influenced dishes he used mushrooms such as enoki and black fungi, which have a different range of flavours than mushrooms used in European cuisine. Everyone had an opportunity to ask him questions about the menu, cooking with mushrooms, collecting mushrooms and even the use of mushrooms in the restaurant industry.
Through the evening I remained in the kitchen preparing and plating each course. This was a demanding task that I had never experienced before. Patrick, warned me about the stress of wondering if people would like the food and the pressure to have everything come out in a timely manner. Luckily, Henry’s two daughters took an interest in the activity of the kitchen and decided to help me plate and serve each dish.
Their generosity reminded me of the unpredictability of the event. While one brings forces into play unexpected and uncertain relations emerge. We became a compound body talking about the preparation of the food, the ingredients amidst the intensity of trying to plate and serve.
Mid-way through the menu, Ken set up his presentation, which included his own photographs of fungi from various forays. He gave an introduction to mycology and his amateur interest in the area. He spoke about species classification, physical characteristics and reproduction. All while dinner guests asked questions including my sous-chefs.
After Ken finished, everyone continued eating. Juliet chose to speak while seated at the table. Her interest is in the medicinal aspects of mushrooms and how in eastern cultures that intersects with cuisine. She passed around various types of medicinal mushrooms including reishi while discussing the medicinal properties.
And still the courses came out. The snippets of conversation I could make out were about art, mushrooms, biodiversity and speculative fiction.
At the end of the evening I sat and enjoyed a glass of wine with everyone. We talked about the dinner…while my sous-chefs slept…and at the end of the evening everyone went home with a belly full of mushrooms having engaged with the aesthetics of existence.
Myco Research Station
Myco Research Station
With Myco Research Station, my intent is to bring bodies together in dynamic compositions. For this reason, I am working with architectural forms that draw people into composition with an organism that is formed through the symbiotic union between yeast and bacteria, known as kombucha. By bringing this organism together with a built form, I am attempting to “build the insensible.” For Massumi, building the insensible involves creating mildly disorienting or even shocking affects in order to confound the senses. As Massumi suggests in relation to architecture, the built form is not a static end in itself, rather, it is a processual event:
How can a built form build form?…Only by continuing the process of form emergence on a different level, in the register of the embodied experience of the people who use the building. In other words, by building into the architecture forces of perception that interact in ways designed to trigger experiential events (Digital Architecture 2).
I am cognizant of these forces of perception as I construct forms with a DIY aesthetic and semi-functional structure. These structures are more akin to the tinkering of the hobbyist than the modern master in their haphazard construction and open curiosity. They are actively uncertain.
In Myco Research Station, a box-like form at the top of my structure creates the dark space needed for the growth of kombucha. Inside the box, there is a multitude of kombucha growing in transparent glass vessels, feeding on tea and sugar. The yeast and bacteria of kombucha come together to form a flat disk like shape that floats in the tea and will continue to grow to the size of the vessel. Small LED lights interspersed among the vessels illuminate this dark space. A mirror on the roof of the cube makes it possible for people to stand inside the structure and to look up into the cube through an opening. A mirror on the roof of the cube reflects the kombucha in such a way that it can be seen in each vessel.
People standing inside the structure interact with the kombucha through their vision. I say this recognizing that vision is never separate from the other senses. Seeing is also tactile so people see the kombucha with “fingery eyes.” The mirror plays with forces of perception. Light and surfaces fluctuate between form and deform. Ultimately the form of the structure crystallizes from moment to moment through the generative forces of the kombucha and the dynamics of perceptual experience.
I believe this is significant in not only revealing the contingency of the world but also the contingency of human experience. As Massumi describes, “[i]n a word, experience is our virtual reality. It is something we have. It is a transformability that has us, and keeps on running with us no matter how hard we try to stand still and no matter how concretely we build. It is our continual variation. Our becoming. Our event: the lightning whose thunder we are” (Building the Insensible 17).
Invisible Worlds March 28, 2010
We had an few hours of decent weather for the Invisible Worlds eco-tour. Twelve people attended to explore the invisible world of fungi.
Biodegradation
Biodegradation transforms the practice of model building in architecture and urban design by replacing the sharp precise edges of cardstock with the soft, organic material of dough. The dough creates an indeterminate visual effect, where the social imaginary presented in the model slowly changes as the mould envelops the urban landscape. Carefully positioned miniature plastic figures give the sense of a dramatic narrative unfolding as the city transforms and decays. Over time, the mould overtakes the carefully constructed habitat of the model.
The model is built on a 1’ x 4’ shelf and is contained by an 18” high plexiglass box. The shelf is installed well above eye level making the model viewable only from the platform of the gallery stairs or the 40” Panasonic LCD monitor mounted at eye level in the exhibition space. The source of the monitor view comes from multiple surveillance cameras installed around the model capturing the growth of the mould in real time over the duration of the exhibition.
Laboratory for Living
Laboratory for Living is a small-scale model inspired by architect Kisho Kurokawa’s 1972 Nakagin Capsule Tower in Tokyo, Japan. This tower is a rare example of a completed structure from the Metabolist Movement, which aspired to create an architecture that was changeable and flexible in the face of a rapidly changing society. Architect Kiyonori Kikutake described how the movement differed from traditional architecture stating
Unlike the architecture of the past, contemporary architecture must be changeable, moveable and capable of meeting the changing requirements of the contemporary age. In order to reflect dynamic reality, what is needed is not a fixed, static function, but rather one which is capable of undergoing metabolic changes.
The Capsule Tower was designed as a series of separate compartments attached to a central core. The single room compartments were prefabricated to include all the necessities of life such as a stove, bed and TV. The arrangement of the compartments was flexible so they could be added, taken away or reconfigured to meet changing needs. The moulded white capsules have a futuristic appearance, which contrasts with the current condition of the building. Since its construction the building has not been altered nor well maintained. There is water and mildew damage and the concrete is beginning to crumble. The status of the building is uncertain.
The Living Laboratory is sculpted from the soft, organic material of dough. The dough creates an indeterminate visual effect, where the social imaginary presented in the tower slowly changes as mould envelops the structure. Carefully positioned miniature plastic figures give the sense of a dramatic narrative unfolding as the Tower transforms and decays. Over time, the mould overtakes the carefully constructed habitat of the model. The metaphor of metabolism becomes a force in this model.
Studio Experiments with Mould
My first experiment with mould involved creating a small city about 10″ in circumference. The city was covered with a glass jar and placed near a radiator. Over the first few a white cottony mould emerged and covered the cityscape like a fog. Overtime the mould grew darker and produced spores as the city decomposed.
Evacuation
In the first year of my MAA studies, I explored architecture and urban planning models and how they present a utopian vision of the future that allows for both the projection of and identification with a specific social imaginary. I became interested in how these projections impose a sense of order that is never as predictable as it appears in the model.
In the studio, I experimented with a range of scale models depicting imaginary cities using the organic material of dough. The models are built and then placed under glass creating a kind of microcosm.
This scenario depicts a city under evacuation. The impetus for the evacuation manifest slowly over time as the city decomposes.
Invisible Worlds Eco-Tour
Invisible Worlds: an exploration of fungi relations in Pacific Spirit Park
Join Holly Schmidt for Invisible Worlds an eco-tour through Pacific Spirit Park on Sunday March 28, 2010 from 11:00 to 12:30. The tour will start from the Huckleberry park entrance at the corner of Discovery Street and 16th Avenue. This entrance is accessible via public transit and there is parking available on the street.
Neither plant nor animal, fungus has created much debate and confusion in the history of taxonomic classification. The Swedish botanist, Carl Linnaeus, baffled by spores or “seeds” that displayed both plant and animal characteristics under the microscope, placed certain fungi in a category termed chaos. Later these organisms were separated into the kingdom of fungi, but still they continue to generate questions that challenge the very definition of an organism. It is the many ways in which fungi evade the logic of western classification and organization that suggests it is a figuration worth exploring.
Space is limited; please rsvp by sending an email to hschmidt@ecuad.ca
For more details…Invisible Worlds
Listen to some audio previews of the upcoming podcast of the tour.
Breath
Breath came out of a three month residency at the USF Verftet in Bergen, Norway. It was originally shown as part of a video installation and later cut into the screening version seen here.
To learn more about the AIR Verftet.
Interactive Futures 2009
The Interactive Futures Conference and Exhibition at Emily Carr University of Art and Design focussed on three main themes; stereographics, co-locative, sensory illusions. There was an excellent line up of speakers including Paula Levine, Steve Dietz and Sid Fels.
http://www.interactivefutures.ca/about.htm
My contribution to the exhibition was P. tuber-regium, a co-locative work that provided a live infrared video feed between my studio and the Concourse Gallery. In the gallery viewers were able to document observations about the growth (or lack of growth) of the mushroom P. tuber-regium.
