Anne Brice

3 weeks ago | medicalxpress.com | Anne Brice

It's hard to pinpoint when synesthesia, the rare neurological condition where a stimulus that affects one sense prompts a response in a different sense, was first documented. Scientific literature marks its beginning in 1812, when it appeared as an aside in a Bavarian medical student's dissertation. Toward the end, there's a small section where he detailed how he associated musical tones and letters with colors. "He enumerates the colors he sees in connection with the letters of the alphabet.

3 weeks ago | news.berkeley.edu | Anne Brice

It’s hard to pinpoint when synesthesia, the rare neurological condition where a stimulus that affects one sense prompts a response in a different sense, was first documented. Scientific literature marks its beginning in 1812, when it appeared as an aside in a Bavarian medical student’s dissertation. Toward the end, there’s a small section where he detailed how he associated musical tones and letters with colors. “He enumerates the colors he sees in connection with the letters of the alphabet.

3 weeks ago | news.berkeley.edu | Anne Brice

Anne Brice (narration): This is Berkeley Voices. I’m Anne Brice. (Music: “Child’s Play” by Blue Dot Sessions)When Winnie Wong first saw Dafen Oil Painting Village in 2006, it was nothing like she’d imagined. A graduate student in art history at MIT, Wong had read about the Chinese village in The New York Times. The story described the village as a kind of compound where thousands of artists painted replicas of famous artworks, like da Vinci’s Mona Lisa or van Gogh’s Starry Night, in mass quantities.

1 month ago | news.berkeley.edu | Anne Brice

In the novel Highway Thirteen, we learn about an Australian serial killer in bits and pieces. He kills hitchhikers and tourists, dumping their bodies in a state forest. He drives a taxi. His name is Paul Biga. He can be charming and affable, and shockingly ruthless. He’s the son of a Polish immigrant. But we never actually meet him. We don’t see him killing anyone. Instead, we hear about the lives his violence has touched, and see the ripple effects of his menace and cruelty.

1 month ago | news.berkeley.edu | Anne Brice

South African artist William Kentridge is not interested in being certain. With certainty, he believes, comes a stuckness. Whether as a way of making artwork or in thinking about the world, certainty closes a person off to a more expansive creativity, to seeing all the possibilities that aren’t immediately or obviously perceptible. “One must be open to mistakes, to things that don’t work,” he says.