In Conversation with Sarah Kogan: 20th Oct 2025

“In the range of works that form this exhibition there are associations that spring very readily to mind and others that have presented themselves more slowly and subtly upon longer consideration. Often these have arisen without doubt as a consequence of my own internal biases and preoccupations. A significant tranche of those biases or perhaps predispositions come from my own professional work. There are shapes, forms and colours that in the course of that work are frequently presenting themselves to me or else I am striving for models or representations of the systems that I work with. Those models not only assist in deepening my understanding but can be a powerful tool in the conveying of ideas to other scientists and students. To that end, it is probably worth my sketching out some of my background and the field of study with which I most commonly work.

I am a molecular biologist and work frequently at or beyond the scale of what is directly visible. The organisms I primarily work with are single-celled algae and I can see them individually only with the aid of microscopes. If I grow them to high abundance, a vividly coloured flask of consistent appearance results. These algae are photosynthetic organisms, and they have powerful pigments that allow them to harvest the sun’s rays and convert that energy to sugars and other building blocks of life. Those pigments can impart a strong colouration and, within those organisms that I work with, routinely they are oranges, browns and greens. At the level of the individual organism, the colours are not universally distributed across these tiny life forms but rather concentrated in minute compartments.

In my inquiries, I frequently observe these organisms under a simple light microscope mainly for the purpose of counting and the determination of the number of cells in a given sample. For that purpose, I don’t need to see within and I’m content with a low level of visible detail. The bright colours of the pigments make the cells that would otherwise be translucent easy to spot and, as the organisms are motile (they can swim!), they appear to play and frolic very much like “that Leviathan” though at the very opposite end of the spectrum of size. I can just about see some internal structures, but these are becoming increasingly indistinct as the limits of resolution are reached. However, I know that there is much more beyond the limit of what I can observe.

It is actually these unseen molecules, the proteins, the sugars and the fatty acids, that are what I am really striving to understand. From other approaches using varied techniques, I have an understanding of key aspects of the properties of those compounds and how they are arranged for function. This could even include the series of atoms that comprise them as well as their patterns of electrical charge and bulk. I also have ideas about how those structures interact with one another and the rate with which they move through space. Again, for the most part, I can’t readily observe or see these features or changes in distribution. The consequences can however frequently be measured, sometimes directly but often indirectly. All of this unseen or invisible activity is fundamental to the life of the organism I’m studying and even though I can’t see it, that doesn’t stop me from imagining what those unseen objects “look” like or my conjuring up mental images of them, even though the concept of visual appearance becomes increasingly incoherent as scale and size reduce further and further. Whilst crude images do indeed form in my mind, my own ability to create and develop them is perhaps limited and can very usefully receive assistance, or even training, from the contemplation of the work of those much more skilled and practiced in visual artistic creation. I am not suggesting that the forms the artist has made are miraculously inspired renderings of those unseen things which I am struggling to envisage but rather my imagination is feeding on the shapes, marks, shades and colours which the painter has made.

I find that with some works produced by certain artists that nourishing effect can be very strong. In visiting Sarah Kogan’s studio, seeing her paintings and talking with her about her work I have felt that to be particularly true. The strength of the images, their subtle complexities, also purity of form, initiate a range of associations that help me better visualise and also reflect upon aspects of my work.”