Decolonizing Science in Latin American Art

Decolonizing Science in Latin American Art

MODERN AMERICAS

Modern Americas is a series for books discussing the culture, politics and history of the Americas from the nineteenth century to the present day. It aims to foster national, international, transnational and comparative approaches to topics in the region, including those that bridge geographical and/or disciplinary divides, such as between the disparate parts of the hemisphere covered by the series (the US, Latin America, Canada and the Caribbean) or between the humanities and social/ natural sciences.

Series Editors

Claire Lindsay is Reader in Latin American Literature and Culture, UCL.

Tony McCulloch is Senior Fellow in North American Studies at the Institute of the Americas, UCL.

Maxine Molyneux is Professor of Sociology at the Institute of the Americas, UCL.

Kate Quinn is Senior Lecturer in Caribbean History at the Institute of the Americas, UCL.

Decolonizing Science in Latin American Art

Joanna Page

First published in 2021 by

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Page, Joanna. 2021. Decolonizing Science in Latin American Art. London: UCL Press. https://doi.org/10.14324/111.9781787359765

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To Geoff, who is always creative and always kind

Contents

List of figures

Acknowledgements

Introduction

1.A planetary art beyond the human

I. Inhuman agency

II. Seismic encounters and the acoustic sublime

2.The atmosphere as a planetary commons

I. Breathing a common air

II. From the Anthropocene to the Aerocene

3.Art and environmental change: beyond apocalypse

I. Art and geodesign for climate change

II. Environmental futures beyond precarity: symbiosis and resilience

4.Science in an ecology of knowledges

I. Indigenous cosmologies and cognitive justice

II. Transgenic maize: between the milpa and the monoculture

5.Interspecies communication and performance

I. Plantbots and the logic of vegetal life

II. The language of cetaceans

III. Microbe music

6.Revising systems art: biological time and the ethics of care

I. Slow robotics and the art of bioremediation

II. Curation and care

7.Sensory worlds and the pluriverse

I. Spider/webs: from connection to coevolution

II. Myrmecology and multispecies communities

Conclusion

Bibliography

Index

List of figures

Acknowledgements

This book has been a great pleasure to write, giving me licence to follow a wide range of newly discovered interests in everything from plant intelligence to the structure of galaxies, while deepening my understanding of contemporary Latin American art and culture. My most sincere thanks goes to the artists whose work is discussed in this book, who generously received me in their homes and studios, met me for lengthy conversations in cafés or took time to talk online, corresponded with me openly and thoughtfully over first drafts of this material, and kindly gave permission for images of their work to be reproduced here. I have been inspired not only by their dedication and their talent but also by their deep commitment to creating truly meaningful forms of collaboration and community.

I am very grateful to the British Academy for the award of a grant that covered the costs of travel associated with this research, and to the University of Cambridge and Robinson College for granting a period of research leave in which I was able to travel and gather material at several locations in Latin America. My thanks goes to the team at UCL Press for their wonderfully efficient and careful handling of every part of the editorial and production process, and above all for their commitment to open access publishing, which is still far too rare in the academic sphere. Early versions of some parts of this book were presented at events in Cambridge, at the University of Newcastle, the Institute of Latin American Studies (SAS) and the Institute of Advanced Studies (UCL) in the University of London, the Donostia International Physics Center in San Sebastián, Spain, the Universidad de San Francisco in Quito, Ecuador, the Universidad de San Martín and Fundación Espigas in Buenos Aires, Argentina, the Universidad de las Américas in Puebla, Mexico, the ‘Art in the Anthropocene’ conference at Trinity College Dublin, and the Annual Congress of the Latin American Studies Association in Barcelona, Spain. I thank the organizers of those events and all those present who provided valuable comments and suggestions. Elements of the discussion of Saraceno’s work here are included in a chapter of Latin American Culture and the Limits of the Human (edited by Lucy Bollington and Paul Merchant, 2020); an abridged version of Chapter One is published in The Anthropocene Review (7 no. 3, December 2020) and a modified version of Chapter Three appears in Environmental Humanities (13 no. 1, May 2021). I am extremely grateful to the anonymous reviewers of these essays and the book manuscript who provided astute suggestions for revision.

Images of the work of Studio Tomás Saraceno have been omitted from this book as permission to reproduce them did not come through in time to meet production schedules, but readers may view them at https://studiotomassaraceno.org.

One of my purposes in this book has been to give clear accounts of the scientific ideas and processes associated with these art projects: to take seriously their engagement with these concepts and practices, beyond aesthetic choices, and to open up to non-specialist readers some of the exciting fields of knowledge these artists explore. Although I have researched these diligently, I have had little formal scientific training. I assume full responsibility for any errors, in the hope that more expert readers will forgive them as the necessary risks of transdisciplinary research. The value of such research and practice will, I hope, shine through in the innovative work of the artists featured here.

Introduction

Transdisciplinary projects that combine the aims and methods of the ‘hard’ sciences with those of art are increasingly being developed in communities and exhibited or performed in galleries and museums across the world. The pioneering work of SymbioticA in Australia and the Artists-in-Labs Program in Switzerland, together with organizations such as Arts Catalyst in the UK and a proliferating series of art, science and technology festivals across the world, have generated unprecedented opportunities for artists and scientists to share ideas and practices. Prestigious science and technology institutes, including MIT, NASA and CERN, have developed substantial residency programmes for artists to work alongside scientists and engineers. Engaging with fields as diverse as astronomy, geology, genetics, molecular biology, ecology and artificial intelligence, contemporary artists are redefining the boundaries between art and science while creating new forms of performance and conceptual art.

The international renown of figures such as Olafur Eliasson, Eduardo Kac and Marta de Menezes (among many others) is evidence that art–science projects are entering the mainstream. This follows some ‘hesitancy’ on the part of the art world to incorporate such works, which for Stephen Wilson may have stemmed from the fact that ‘the literacy required to understand and appreciate such work is not widespread’.¹ Since then, as he outlines, a ‘parallel world’ of museums, festivals, publications, websites and other institutions and organizations has developed to exhibit and support it. Although the general public may not fully grasp the science behind such works, they are typically very appealing in their use of new technologies, creating spectacular or curious effects, and exploring modes of expression that are often sonic and kinetic as well as visual. What is certainly the case is that few scholars writing on such projects are able to bridge the disciplinary divide as convincingly as their creators do. As Wilson acknowledges, ‘recognizing both the craft of, and the conceptual leap being made by, an artist exploring computerized artificial intelligence is somewhat dependent on understanding the scientific challenges in that field as well as the nature of the artistic gesture required to move beyond the science’.² Demanding as this transdisciplinary work may be, it is imperative that we attempt to follow these artists in their quest to acquire the multiple literacies we need to understand and participate in the most urgent debates of our time. From the risks and possibilities of genetic modification to the nature of climate change and our response to it, many of these debates cut across divisions between science, culture, politics and ethics.

While visual art and the sciences may be enjoying a new form of rapprochement, their relationship has of course always been close. From mediaeval botanical illustrations to the stunning images created from data collected by the Hubble Space Telescope, art has played a vital role in the recording of scientific discoveries, the creation of models and the interpretation of data. This role is, of course, far from passive: modes of visualization, even the most apparently ‘scientific’, are never objective, creating additional meanings that may embellish, extend or even run counter to the interpretations suggested by the raw data on which they are based. Elizabeth A. Kessler, for example, has found significant resemblances between the vivid Hubble images of the cosmos and the visual language of the sublime in Romantic depictions of the American West. Such parallels point to the way in which the cosmos is re-created visually according to ‘the mythos of the American frontier’, casting astronomers as explorers and pioneers and reminding us of our potential to transcend what may initially seem to limit us.³ In an age of ever-proliferating digital information, the new art form of data visualization is crucial in helping us make sense of large quantities of invisible information, but it is also far from objective in the perspectives it offers. Like photography, it may be used for scientific or artistic purposes, or both.

Art, likewise, has drawn significantly on scientific knowledge and methods over the centuries, from the development of perspective in Renaissance painting to op art and bioart. The current expansion of art–science projects and a rising interest among critics and scholars does seem, however, to suggest a growing convergence between disciplines that have often been seen as very different. Writing in the 1990s, the physicist and epistemologist Jean-Marc Lévy-Leblond found the idea of a ‘universal reconciliation’ between art and science to be a ‘product of naive nostalgia’.⁴ He considered the ‘new alliances’ being proclaimed to constitute rather superficial engagements, stating that ‘[t]he fact that artists make use of contemporary scientific theories as a reference, or claim that they illustrate them, does not mean their work throws any new light on the theories’.⁵ Indeed, he suggests that art and science should treasure their divergence, and that ‘[i]f the arts want to be geared to the needs of a world dominated by technoscience, they will not achieve that result by plagiarizing it or paying allegiance to it’.⁶ It is demonstrably the case that much art that engages with science either fails to do so in a serious way or confines its practice to visualizing scientific theories, processes and data without subjecting them to commentary or critique. In the first case, art may merely draw on mathematical or scientific ideas as an inspiration for a work that is impressionistic and not at all scientific in register, adding nothing to our understanding of such ideas. In the second, art remains entirely subservient to science in the communication of its ideas, rarely carving out a space for critique or alternative perspectives. For Joanna Zylinska, the ‘pedagogic’ element of many bioart projects, which are aimed at demystifying biotechnologies and the commercial interests that underpin the biotech industry, ‘can make artists adopt a somewhat servile role toward biotech and bioscience, with art becoming a mere handmaiden to science’.⁷ If artists add nothing to the procedures developed by scientists, or simply present the ethical or political issues they raise as self-evident, Zylinska suggests, art–science collaborations may end up reaffirming the superior position of biotech in a disciplinary hierarchy.⁸

It is clear, however, that over the last decade, a new wave of art–science projects across the world are making credible additions to scientific knowledge while engaging the embodied, sensory qualities and the critical and reflexive capacities of art. Such projects, including the ones featured in this book, do not effectively reinforce the supremacy of science in the way that Lévy-Leblond and Zylinska describe. In some cases, they do throw ‘new light’ on scientific theories, by introducing new techniques of visualization or developing new materials or forms of measurement, in ways that make a verifiable contribution to scientific knowledge. Some examples of this kind of contribution are detailed in the chapters of this book. More typically, these projects extend or question the work of science through speculative explorations that connect scientific knowledge with other fields of knowledge and experience, increase our understanding of other species by promoting an aesthetic and affective engagement with new scientific findings, or deploy scientific techniques for objectives other than those of predicting, controlling or commodifying the natural world. Their aims are to create ways of approaching natural phenomena that refute mechanistic and reductionist explanations and revitalize artistic practice through new encounters with the material world.

If a rise in art–science projects is evident across many regions of the world, it remains the case that comparatively little attention has been paid to artists working beyond Europe and North America. This book explores recent art–science projects by Latin American artists, assembling a new corpus of diverse works created since 2008 that range from big-budget collaborations with NASA and MIT labs to home-grown experiments with mushrooms in an artist’s kitchen. These projects draw variously on new research in evolutionary biology, zoology, plant science, genetics, geology, geophysics, atmospheric physics, astronomy, and climate and environmental science. They generally take the form of mixed-media installations, interactive technologies and performances that use scientific instruments, methods and techniques of representing data to enhance our understanding of natural-world phenomena and the sensory worlds of other species or to comment on scientific practices and discourses. Most of these works have originated within Latin America (more precisely, in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador and Mexico), while some have been produced by Latin American artists currently resident abroad, in Europe or North America.

A growth in art–science projects – and in research-based art in general – is being facilitated in Latin America by the excellent opportunities for transdisciplinary and creative work currently offered by a number of (usually private) universities. The great majority of the projects discussed in this book are produced by artists who also teach on university courses. This provides them with a regular income, but also allows them to draw on university research funds and to gain access to research centres and installations in the Amazon, the Atacama, Patagonia and elsewhere. Paul Rosero Contreras was able to secure permits to travel to the Galápagos through the Universidad San Francisco de Quito (Ecuador), where he gives classes, and some of his collaborative projects have been organized under the aegis of the university’s interdisciplinary College of Communication and Contemporary Arts (COCOA). Claudia Müller teaches at the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile, where there are increasingly strong relationships between arts and science faculties, especially Engineering, and she is able to access funding for transdisciplinary projects. In Chile she can also apply for grants from a dedicated ‘Art and Science’ funding competition run every year by the government’s Fondo Nacional para el Desarrollo Cultural y las Artes (National Fund for the Development of Culture and the Arts). Joaquín Fargas is the founding director of a laboratory for bioart established in 2008 at the Universidad Maimónides (Buenos Aires), now operating as the Laboratorio Latinoamericano de Bioarte (LatBioLab) at the Universidad Abierta Interamericana, which provides laboratory support for his projects and an important space for collaboration between artists, biologists, and engineers in particular.

Like many transdisciplinary art–science projects, the ones explored here constitute interventions in much broader debates about the changing roles of the arts and sciences in contemporary society, as well as the relationship between them. As I will argue, the dialogue many of them establish with local or regional forms of knowledge and practice in Latin America and their situated engagement with the geopolitics of biotechnology, extractivism and climate change make important contributions to the growing corpus of art–science projects worldwide. In different ways, I will propose, these projects can be understood as participating in a decolonization of science, knowledge and nature.

Art and science in the Anthropocene

The current increase in art–science works is taking place at a moment at which the relationship between art and science has reached a critical conjuncture. This is characterized by a generalized erosion of trust in science – owing in part to its close collusion with capital – and, at the same time, by the urgent need to defend expert knowledge in the context of ‘fake news’ and particularly to uphold the truth of environmental science against climate change deniers. In many ways, science in Western nations retains its position of authority over the production of knowledge. As Isabelle Stengers has observed, however, its credibility as a source of objective data and analysis is increasingly undermined by ‘the nature of the knowledge economy and the dependence it introduces between research choices and private interests’.⁹ Many artists have sought to expose the complicit relationship between science and capital in the lucrative biotech industry, for example. And yet, in the context of a global environmental crisis, it becomes imperative to defend the truth of science against those private individuals and strategists in the employ of interested corporations who use all the resources of the internet and social media to discredit the predictions of climate scientists.

This is a crucial shift that has been noted by, among others, Bruno Latour, whose early work was associated with a social constructivist approach to science. He expresses a deep concern that while he has given priority to demonstrating a lack of scientific certainty in the construction of facts, the danger now appears to lie in an ‘excessive mistrust’ of such facts. As a result, ‘entire Ph.D. programs are still running to make sure that good American kids are learning the hard way that facts are made up, that there is no such thing as natural, unmediated, unbiased access to truth, that we are always prisoners of language, that we always speak from a particular standpoint, and so on, while dangerous extremists are using the very same argument of social construction to destroy hard-won evidence that could save our lives’.¹⁰ In Latour’s more recent publications we see a clear shift from pointing out the social forces at work in the construction of apparently objective facts in science to a recognition that science speaks most truthfully and accurately when it is reconnected with the world outside the laboratory. As he writes in a book published as early as 1999, ‘Instead of the impossible task of freeing science from society, we now have a more manageable one: that of tying the discipline as much as possible to the rest of the collective’.¹¹

Art–science projects may play a particularly effective role, as we will see, in making these kinds of (re)connection. Against the abstraction and reductionism of science, Lévy-Leblond suggests, art leads us to rediscover the ‘rich denseness’ and ‘opacity’ of the natural and human world; as he argues, it has ‘become imperative today to re-establish a link between the concepts that science has elaborated and the reality from which it has isolated them’.¹² The most important challenge he identifies is not how to communicate scientific culture to the public, but how to reinsert science into culture. Art–science projects are a particularly valuable medium through which to raise awareness of questions of conservation, biodiversity and environmental change, owing to their capacity to combine rationalist approaches with those that lie beyond rationalism. The problem, as Val Plumwood defines it, is not with reason itself, but with rationalism’s ‘inability to see humans as ecological and embodied beings’.¹³ This has created a ‘dominant narrative of reason’s mastery of the opposing sphere of nature and disengagement from nature’s contaminating elements of emotion, attachment and embodiment’.¹⁴ The affective, sublime, interactive and performative qualities of many of the projects discussed in this book amply demonstrate ways in which art may reach beyond the presentation of scientific data or the critique or development of new technologies to engage us in an embodied, sensory manner with the natural world.

But it is also the work of art as assemblage, often in the form of mixed-media installations, that is particularly effective in placing scientific research or new technologies alongside other matters of concern. Such assemblages often invite the viewer to understand a conflict between different worldviews (such as Western and indigenous perspectives on nature) or a contradiction between two or more objectives (such as development and conservation). The Sin origen/Sin semilla exhibition curated by Arte+Ciencia (see Chapter Four) brings together opposing perspectives on the transgenic maize debate in Mexico; Rafael Lozano-Hemmer’s Atmospheric Memory (see Chapter Two) captures multiple ways in which we inhabit the atmosphere as a physical and social medium, bringing together interactive pieces with audiovisual performances to highlight its potential for creative expression and shared experience, as well as the sobering realities of air pollution and unseen forms of digital surveillance.

In fact, while the strong preference for installation art evident in art–science projects sometimes stems from a desire to immerse the participant in a sensory experience, it is just as often designed as a way of engaging their rational, investigative skills. A number of installations, such as BIOS Ex MachinA’s Serán ceniza, mas tendrá sentido (ligeramente tóxico) (2012), Julia Carrillo’s Frontera comprometida (2017) and Pablo La Padula’s Zoología fantástica (2019), reconstruct the scene of a transdisciplinary research project, placing the gallery-goer in the position of the artist/scientist and encouraging them to consider connections between disparate objects such as texts, images, maps, biological specimens and laboratory equipment. Jens Hauser argues that as the technosciences become ‘powerful producers of aestheticized images’, an epistemological turn emerges in art, evidenced by the fragmenting of artistic images into a series of ‘material media and epistemic connections’.¹⁵ Far from simply constituting visual representations of scientific data or ideas, many art–science installations interrogate how knowledge is constructed, as well as what role the aesthetic, affective or performative elements of art may play in that construction. Indeed, as I will argue later in this book, one of the important contributions made by many of the art–science projects I explore is precisely to bring together the cognitive and the affective, in acts that demonstrate the inseparability of questions of knowledge, empowerment, entanglement and care in a post-anthropocentric imaginary.

‘Post-academic science’ under neoliberalism

Many contemporary art–science projects reflect on major shifts in the construction and circulation of scientific knowledge under advanced capitalism. Since the 1970s, John Ziman claims, ‘we have witnessed a radical, irreversible, worldwide transformation in the way that science is organized, managed and performed’. He characterizes this transformation as the yielding of academic science to ‘post-academic science’, in the context of much closer ties between academia and industry.¹⁶ Although ‘industrial science’ uses the same techniques and technologies as ‘academic science’, the knowledge it generates is directed towards solving specific technical problems rather than adding to our general understanding.¹⁷ Researchers are commissioned to work towards particular goals, and the knowledge that emerges may not be made public.¹⁸ The practices that have emerged are, as Ziman points out, ‘essentially foreign’ to the culture of academic science which – according to the norms of the discipline identified by Robert K. Merton in 1942 – rests on principles that include disinterestedness and the common ownership of knowledge.¹⁹

In many Latin American countries, scientific research has been largely dependent on state funding, and thus vulnerable to significant fluctuations for political and economic reasons. This dependence is shifting rapidly in those countries that are most actively pursuing neoliberal policies of foreign investment and market deregulation. One of the most interesting countries in which to examine the operation of post-academic science under neoliberalism is Chile, where extensive debates are taking place about the future of science in the country. Against an OECD average of 2.3 per cent, Chile invested less than 0.4 per cent of its GDP in research and development in the period 2007–13, a considerably lower proportion than some of its less developed Latin American neighbours.²⁰ Javiera Barandiarán observes that this low level of investment was not a result of a lack of resources, but the adoption of a neoliberal ideology that explicitly limits the role of the state.²¹ Soledad Quiroz Valenzuela concurs, pointing out that those countries in Latin America that have managed to increase funding for science and technology have done so through greater state involvement.²² Barandiarán’s more recent study explores the devastating consequences for environmental governance when state agencies, rather than producing an authoritative body of scientific knowledge, outsource this role to private bodies, the state seeing itself ‘as a broker between competing parties that produce their own knowledge claims’.²³ This has resulted in a widespread mistrust of the independence and objectivity not only of the advice supplied by industry-paid scientists but also of that supplied by government officials.²⁴ The molecular biologist Pablo Astudillo Besnier further claims that, in Chile, science has been seen in terms that are exclusively economic: pure science, or science motivated by curiosity, is considered to be ‘un problema, una pérdida de tiempo, una deficiencia del modelo chileno’ (a problem, a waste of time, a failure of the Chilean model).²⁵

A major factor in this transition to post-academic science, in Chile and beyond, is therefore a ‘greater stress on utility’.²⁶ David Kellogg argues that post-academic science weakens the bond between science and curiosity, while strengthening the bond between science and ‘social need’.²⁷ Post-academic science is generally founded on market principles; Ziman observes that even public agencies such as research councils are required ‘to favour projects with manifest wealth-creating prospects, or with practical medical, environmental or social applications’.²⁸ Kellogg rightly points out that this often creates a closer relationship between science and society, as scientists typically have to justify the value of their projects to a wide range of stakeholders, many of whom are not scientists themselves.²⁹ The pursuit of science in order to ‘solve’ societal problems is not often carried out in consultation with all stakeholders, however; given the weight of past errors, there is a growing awareness of the need for the co-creation of research agendas in conjunction with those people who will potentially benefit but may also be harmed.

The question of the utility of science in Latin America is also complicated by the region’s ‘peripheral’ status in global science. As renowned twentieth-century scientists such as Oscar Varsavsky insisted, pursuing a successful career in science has frequently meant adopting the norms and values of the most developed centres of science.³⁰ Pablo Kreimer affirms that even in the present day, the integration of scientific researchers from peripheral countries into international science should be regarded as an ‘integración subordinada’ (subordinate or dependent integration), as they are often forced to adopt lines of enquiry developed elsewhere and to subject their work to the evaluation of interlocutors located beyond the nation’s borders.³¹ This often leads scientists in Latin America to ignore pressing local problems in favour of collecting data that is really for the benefit of scientists in the North.³² Alicia Massarini and Adriana Schnek explain that, for this reason, science and technology in Latin America tend to subscribe to a concept of development that relies on the continued exploitation of natural resources, securing the region’s insertion into the global economy at the cost of widespread environmental damage and the neglect of urgent challenges in health, food or education.³³

Transdisciplinary art–science projects typically share and promote some of the more positive characteristics of post-academic science while rejecting others. They are part of a move identified by Kellogg towards the multiplication and diversification of the sites of knowledge production, which now typically bring researchers based in universities and private labs together with consultants and technicians working for government agencies or other private companies, to create forms of interdisciplinary enquiry.³⁴ Artists have recently gained much greater access to such networks, principally through teaching on university courses or taking up residencies in university and commercial labs; those who have gained a measure of international success are also increasingly able to establish their own studios as sites of transdisciplinary collaboration. One of the best examples of such large-scale collaborative work in this book is the Studio Tomás Saraceno, in Berlin, which brings together architects, biologists, engineers, artists, musicians and designers in a multidisciplinary space that houses the Arachnophilia Research Laboratory as well as other communities of researchers and enthusiasts.

In many important respects, though, the practices established in many art–science projects across the world run contrary to dominant trends within post-academic science. First, at a time when knowledge is increasingly becoming privatized and subject to patents, artists are stepping in to promote the value of knowledge as a commons. They are able to do so because in less commercial fields, such knowledge is in fact becoming more accessible. Although the data and tools developed by privately funded science are often jealously guarded secrets, Kellogg notes that in general scientific knowledge has become more widely disseminated and more open to public scrutiny, through online, open-access publications, which are often a condition of public funding.³⁵ Artists both benefit from this increased access to free data and contribute to it. Nicola Triscott observes that since the 1990s artists and curators have begun to frame their work explicitly in relation to a commons logic; she understands this turn to be entwined with ‘a move in contemporary art away from a focus on the individual agency of artists (producing discrete art objects) towards art-making as an open, collective process, and a shift in thinking from political art producing political messages towards the idea of art producing a politics’.³⁶ The great majority of the Latin American artists discussed in this book use open-source software and technologies, such as Arduino and SuperCollider, which have been collaboratively developed and may be legally used and modified by anyone; their own modifications and results are made available in the public domain to be used in other projects, fully downloadable and free from copyright.

Such commoning practices also militate against the increasing specialization of knowledge that characterizes post-academic science. Kellogg observes that the growth in collaborative science projects permits a division of labour that means that specialists in charge of one aspect of the research may never come into contact with other researchers or technicians.³⁷ The need to develop specific expertise, coupled with a fast-growing body of scientific literature, means that it is often in a researcher’s interest to focus on a narrow area, in the hope of being able to make at least a modest contribution to knowledge.³⁸ The artists who feature