{"id":13093,"date":"2026-02-17T10:00:11","date_gmt":"2026-02-17T09:00:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.caixaresearch.org\/?p=13093"},"modified":"2026-02-16T16:28:32","modified_gmt":"2026-02-16T15:28:32","slug":"snapshot-of-the-month-topography-of-the-living","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.caixaresearch.org\/en\/snapshot-of-the-month-topography-of-the-living\/","title":{"rendered":"Snapshot of the month: \u201cTopography of the Living\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"

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If we could perceive it, <\/span>what sound would ageing make?<\/b> What notes would represent the changes in shape, structure and colour that occur over the years? And, conversely, what signals would our body emit if it were capable of reversing that process?<\/span><\/p>\n

Perhaps such a sound exists but we’re simply not capable of hearing it. Something similar occurs in our latest <\/span>Snapshot of the Month<\/span><\/i>. As if we were experiencing <\/span>sensory synaesthesia<\/span><\/a>, the scientific image in question <\/span>awakens seemingly unconnected or even contradictory sensations<\/b>: a changing stillness or a deafening silence. And the discovery behind it is no less disconcerting: <\/span>it reveals a key mechanism involved in the ageing, and regeneration, of haematopoietic stem cells<\/b>.<\/span><\/p>\n

To analyse this image from two complementary perspectives, the artistic and the scientific, we’re joined by <\/span>Sira Pellicer<\/b><\/a>, a \u201dla Caixa\u201d Foundation fellow, saxophonist and cultural manager; <\/span>Pablo I\u00e1\u00f1ez<\/b><\/a>, a fellow and researcher in the study; and <\/span>Carolina Florian<\/b><\/a>, a Health Research researcher at ICREA and leader of the work published in <\/span>Nature Aging<\/span><\/i><\/a> (Bellvitge Institute for Biomedical Research).<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Let’s begin with Sira.<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sira, what title would you give this image?\u00a0<\/i><\/b><\/h4>\n

Sira (S):<\/b> I see a silent material, loaded with information. Something that appears still but is actually full of internal tension. The image conveys both fragility and, at the same time, a great capacity for transformation. It seems like a changing, permeable form made up of different layers.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Sira Pellicer<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n

This makes me wonder whether qualities such as fragility, change and structure are really opposites or whether, on the contrary, they can exist side by side. It’s this coexistence I’ve tried to condense into the title: <\/span>Topography of the Living<\/b>.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Does it remind you of any sound or piece of music in particular?<\/i><\/b><\/h4>\n

S:<\/b> Yes, of an unmistakably contemporary musical language. Specifically, I’m thinking of <\/span>mute materie<\/span><\/i><\/a> (2010), a piece for solo alto sax and electronics by Swiss composer Nadir Vassena. The title <\/span>suggests a tension between sound and silence<\/b>: mute matter becomes audible; echoes, layers and gestures emerge.<\/span><\/p>\n

This piece has always reminded me of matter that’s seemingly silent, structured and complex but at the same time noisy to the ears of the spectator. Something very similar to what happens with this image.<\/span><\/p>\n