You’re at a museum. You pass by dozens of paintings until one, you don’t quite know why, catches your attention. It’s not just what you see; it’s what it makes you feel.

Now imagine another scene. A laboratory and, under the microscope, an image. Cells stained with impossible colours, shapes that look like abstract landscapes. You’re not in the Prado but something in that image fascinates you. An image that, moreover, may be the key to a new scientific discovery.

While a researcher creates knowledge, an artist arouses emotions. But the boundaries aren’t always so clear.

Today we talk to Eloísa Herrera, CaixaResearch researcher and CSIC Research Professor at the Institute of Neurosciences CSIC-UMH, and Marta Velasco-Velasco, “la Caixa” Foundation fellow, visual artist and exhibition producer, to discover how a scientific image can be both a clue to understanding the development of our organism and a source of visual inspiration. We begin with Marta.

As an artist, what does this image convey to you?

M: The relentless passage of time, from the minuscule to enormous, millennia-old material surfaces. In fact, if I had to give this image a title, the first thing that comes to mind is “From the minuscule”.

Does it remind you of a particular artist’s work?

M: The relationship between the moving forms, the colour escaping, remind me of Helen Frankenthaler’s work. If I think more about texture, dripping bodies and fleeting colour contrast, it reminds me of Tracey Emin’s paintings.

Marta Velasco-Velasco, “la Caixa” Foundation fellow, visual artist and exhibition producer.

It’s not actually a painting; it’s an image from a microscope. Eloísa, what are we really looking at?

E: We’re observing how, during embryonic development, cells called neural crest cells, which you can see stained green in the picture, travel to different places in the embryo where they’ll form, among other things, the structures of the face.

Looking at the image, it’s difficult to imagine what lies behind it. Can you explain what you’ve discovered? 

E: We’ve discovered that two proteins, called ARID1A and ZIC2, help these cells get going and start their journey.

And if these proteins didn’t act, what would happen?

E: Then the cells wouldn’t receive the right signal to move. This can lead to craniofacial malformations, such as those seen in people with Coffin-Siris syndrome. This syndrome, which affects fewer than 200 people worldwide, is a rare genetic disorder that causes limb problems, learning disabilities and craniofacial malformations. 

What impact could this discovery have on the area of health?

E: This is a very important step in understanding how the structures of the face are formed during development and what goes wrong in certain genetic diseases. We’re paving the way for therapies in the future that can correct or even prevent defects in craniofacial development.

Eloísa Herrera, CaixaResearch researcher and CSIC Research Professor at the Institute of Neurosciences CSIC-UMH.

We ended the interview by asking them:

What connection do you think exists between art and science?

M: They’re two disciplines that feed off each other, that share the need to imagine and investigate, and that intertwine but in different directions. A large number of artists have used the scientific discoveries of their time as subjects for their work, while others have applied innovations in technology, materials and production methods to the medium of their creations. 

What’s more, it’s easy to find people dedicated to science with a profound interest in art or who use drawing to think and develop scientific ideas. One clear example is that of the indigenous Amazonian artist Abel Rodríguez. This Colombian’s work has served as a source for botanical studies and, at the same time, the lines of his drawings contain something intimate about his vision of the jungle.

E: For me, the main link between art and science is creativity. Although they are often considered separate disciplines, both stem from the same impulse: to explore the unknown. In art, we imagine what does not yet exist; new worlds, forms, and emotions are created. In science, we also imagine, but in our case, what we imagine does exist—it’s just that we don’t know it yet. Scientific creativity lies in sensing what is hidden, asking questions that open paths, and designing strategies to unveil what is already there, waiting to be discovered.

Eloísa and Marta have made it clear: the same image can tell us very different things. What for Marta represents shapes, textures and the relentless passage of time, for Eloísa is part of a long journey that could help many people.