The 1962 Nobel Prize in Medicine went, at least in part, to the victors in a battle of aesthetics.
Roughly 10 years prior, during the race to uncover the structure of DNA – the molecule of life – researchers bickered over how its strands fit together in three-dimensional space. James Watson, Francis Crick and Maurice Wilkins emerged as winners, but had pored over several models and designs before finding that a twisting ladder called a double helix held the structural key.
Sixty years later, we’re still captivated by viewing our genetic footprint. But instead of zeroing in on how one DNA pair connects to another, genetics pioneers are offering us the 30,000-foot view –- how the sum total of our DNA factors in to making us, well, us. While many companies are focused on what large-scale genome studies might tell us about health, disease, or ancestry, Ottawa-based DNA11 is moving molecules out of the lab and into the home, creating personalized works of DNA art and uncovering a modern version of DNA’s functional beauty, which Watson, Crick and Wilkins unlocked decades ago.
“Genomics is revolutionizing the way we live, from curing genetic diseases to the advancement of personalized drugs,” Nazim Ahmed, co-founder of DNA11, told Wired in an email. “However, we are not exposed to the field on a daily basis because it lives mostly inside our research labs.”
In 2005, Ahmed and his business partner Adrian Salamunovic formed DNA11 as a way to fuse their passions of genomics and art and expose more people to genomics.
“We wanted to combine art and science in a way that's had never been done before,” Salamunovic said. So rather than trying to entice people to buy a stock image showing what a stranger’s genes look like, Nazim and Salamunovic have personalized the experience, asking the customer to supply a sample of their own DNA.
The scientist in me was curious about this strange new art form, so I volunteered my own genetic identity to see if maybe there is something artistic about me after all.
The entire process goes something like this: DNA11 sends you a swab kit that you use to transfer cheek cells to a collection card, which you then send back to the company. DNA11 begins processing the sample with 8 different makers, which insures unique canvas art for each customer. After amplifying the unique DNA bands (so there’s enough DNA to visualize), separating them according to size using an electric field (so the molecules don’t lump together), and staining them with UV dye (to highlight the DNA that’s there), the company takes a digital image and prints the DNA profile on a canvas.
At first blush, my results just looked like short horizontal bars lined with infrared coloring, stretched across a slab of canvas. But to me, the deeper meaning was realizing that if I reassembled the eight bands before me, I’d end up with, well, me. Not in the literal sense, but more to the point that no other combination would produce the same result. And that originality became the talking point among those who saw my DNA portrait.
“This is all done in our own lab which we built,” Ahmed said. “It’s the first genetics lab in the world dedicated 100 percent to crossing art and genomics.”
From practical to outlandish, DNA11 offers a genetic portrait for a range of budgets. Most works are priced between $199 and $1,000, though the company has done custom works for as much as $25,000, such as a 6-foot-tall DNA Waterfall.
The company’s client list is equally intriguing. They’ve sequenced heroes, celebrities, even animals (Bengal tigers, a racehorse and an iguana). Their DNA portrait of Elijah Wood raised funds for charity. And when Anousheh Ansari went into space, DNA11 awaited her return.
“When Ansari was recognized by The Xprize Foundation we were invited to Google headquarters to award a DNA Portrait, Salamunovic said. “She was the first female space tourist.”
Although the DNA11 isn’t mining genomes for indicators of health, it is aiding the genomics revolution by making people more comfortable with, and aware of, the beauty of their own DNA.
Images: Ariel Zambelich/Wired
