The Exploratorium in San Francisco is one of the inspirations for science
centres in this country, such as the Science Museum’s Launch Pad and the
Bristol Exploratory. But as the concept crossed the Atlantic, it lost one
aspect: art.

Instead of concentrating on education, these Exploratorium exhibits
harness science for artistic effect. Purists may object to the lack of hard
scientific explanation on some of the exhibits, but this is more than offset
by the sheer beauty and fascination of the exhibits themselves. Indeed,
this is part of the reasoning behind them, to display rather than explain.
The founder of the Exploratorium, Frank Oppen-heimer (1912-1985), took the
line that both art and science were essential ingredients in understanding
nature. He believed that learning was addictive, but only when people could
experience the thrill of discovery for themselves. Over the years, the Exploratorium
has developed a unique style of exhibition, closely involving artists, scientists
and educators.

Every year since 1974 the Exploratorium’s artist-in-residence programme
has set between four and six artists the challenge of producing works of
art which ‘inspire the discovery of subtle connections that can be made
between the nature of art and science’. Some 19 results of this collaboration
are displayed here. The Exploratorium has provided the opportunity for artists
inspired by natural phenomena to harness them in works of art. Ned Kahn,
fascinated by dust devils at windy street corners developed ‘Tornado’. Bill
Bell saw how light-emitting diodes in supermarket cash registers created
patterns when glimpsed out of the corner of the eye, and created ‘Triple
Eye Lightstick’, which demonstrates persistence of vision.

Other exhibits range from the simplicity of Paul De Marinis’s ‘Alien
Voices’ (two oak and glass telephone booths that allow the users to converse
in speech distorted by a computer system) to the Emmett-like mechanical
anarchy of Norman Tuck’s ‘Lariat Chain’, a rotating chain loop which can
demonstrate standing waves.

Miniature wind-swept landscapes, automatically-generated bubble patterns,
a multi-player computer music system, neon flowers . . . All have their
own special character, creating a variety refreshingly different from a
‘house style’ imposed on all the interactive exhibits in a museum. My favourite
was Ned Kahn’s ‘Turbulent Orb’, a delightful demonstration of linear and
turbulent flow patterns, which would make a beautiful conversation piece
at home! It is not for sale.

The Exploratorium artists have produced a combination of stunningly
beautiful works of art and imaginatively-designed interactive exhibits,
which should encourage the interested visitor to look for explanations of
the science behind the effects. For those sufficiently interested there
are printed handouts giving details of the displays.

Instead of merely inviting hands-on experimentation, you are encouraged
to watch things happening. Deck chairs are provided for contemplation of
one particularly attractive exhibit.

‘Art from the Exploratorium’ will not provide an answer to the fundamental
arguments about science centres: Who are they for? How much entertainment
do you deliver with the science? Is this the right way to promote science?
I wonder just how many visitors will pick up the scientific facts behind
the demonstrations. However, the important thing is that this is an attractive
way of getting people to look at, and experiment with natural effects. Whether
or not you believe that interactive science centres teach their visitors
anything about science, ‘Art from the Explora-torium’ is well worth a visit.
After seeing it you may find yourself disappointed by traditional science
centres.

*Art from the Exploratorium is on show at the Rotunda Gallery, Canary
Wharf, London E15 4AB. It is open from 11am to 7pm every day until Sunday
1 March. Admission is free, although school parties should book in advance.
Tel 071-428-2108 for details.

Peter Turvey works on special projects for the Science Museum, London.

In 1841, when Britain used gunboat diplomacy to force opium on an unwilling
China, Chinese paddle ships attacked British warships. The British fondly
thought the Chinese ships, propelled by human effort instead of steam, were
inferior copies of their own. They were wrong. Such ships were the product
of a sophisticated scientific and technological culture, and had been in
use since the 5th century. This is just one of many examples of Chinese
firsts cited in this fascinating and beautifully illustrated book.

Paper and porcelain are relatively familiar examples of technology imported
from China. But did you know that the Chinese invented bottled natural gas,
iron casting, fishing reels, whisky, the decimal system, seismographs, hormone
treatments and lavatory paper? Anyone who believes that these are products
of Western ingenuity will be astounded by the range of innovations pioneered
by the Empire of All Under Heaven. This book gives glimpses of an advanced
civilisation with highly organised industries, capable of mass-producing
luxury goods, tools or weapons with ease.

The infrastructure vital to a successful economy was not neglected either.
Chinese engineers performed feats of civil engineering not even approached
in Europe until the height of the Industrial Revolution. Many Chinese innovations
were carried to Europe along the Silk Road during the Middle Ages. Printing,
gunpowder and the compass were probably the ones with the greatest impact
on Western civilisation. Had armies followed, the chivalry of Europe would
have fallen before repeating crossbows, handguns, bombs, flame-throwers
and rockets.

Yet despite such formidable knowhow, China was eclipsed by Europe. It
suffered the indignity of having technology long forgotten by the Chinese
reintroduced by the foreign barbarians. Mechanical clocks brought to China
by Jesuit missionaries in the 17th century caused great amazement, yet I-Hsing
built the world’s first such clock in 725. The more one reads, the more
one is amazed that Chinese civilisation failed to dominate the world with
such a wealth of achievement.

But when Europe entered the Renaissance, China began a long decline
which was not really to be reversed until the Communist revolution in the
1940s. China never underwent the age of exploration and colonisation that
characterised European expansion, although Chinese junks far outclassed
the ships of medieval Europe. Similarly, modern science, which began with
the scientific revolution of the 17th century, left China far behind.

In the foreword to this book, the scientist and historian Joseph Needham
hints that the answer might lie with the highly developed bureaucratic system
that governed China. After encouraging and exploiting science and technology,
it gradually became a stifling hierarchy that kept China isolated from the
rest of the world.

Needham’s life’s work has been to uncover China’s achievements, which
he and his collaborators have described in detail in the many volumes of
Science and Civilisation in China. Robert Temple has succeeded in his aim
of making this work accessible to the general reader, drawing on both published
and unpublished sources. Anyone who has referred to Science and Civilisation
in China, or even the shorter, three-volume version edited by Colin Ronan,
will appreciate the value of this book as a quick reference to Chinese science
and technology.

Unfortunately, it lacks an index, but this is a minor drawback. The
only real criticism is that space might have been devoted to a more detailed
examination of why Chinese science and technology did not maintain its once-commanding
lead.

Peter Turvey is a member of the special projects group at the Science
Museum, London.