Microbe‑Machines: Art That Breathes and Flies

An artist in Brooklyn builds living sculptures that grow, move, and even lift off the ground. In a forested park outside New York City, she places tall columns filled with soil, water and microbes that change color over time. The work only exists in summer, when light and heat let the tiny communities inside thrive, turning the columns into shifting mosaics. In a museum on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, she hangs jellyfish‑like drones that drift up and down, their soft tentacles opening as they glide. And at a big art fair in the city, she suspends a massive model of an ancient ocean organism made from fiber optics and motors that curls its arms like a living thing. Her projects show how technology, biology and art can overlap. She started experimenting with bacteria after her own gut problems led her to ask how microbes influence our bodies. From there she learned that science and creativity can mix in surprising ways. She now works with microbiologists, computer scientists and even neuroscientists to create pieces that feel alive.One of her most ambitious works, “Message from the Mud, ” uses a century‑old method called Winogradsky columns. The artist mixes local soil, pond water and everyday materials like newspaper and eggshells, then watches the microbes organize themselves into colorful layers. The installation is only possible because she lets nature take its course; the microbes decide where to grow, and the artist simply records the changes. A curator at the park who has watched the columns for two years says they keep surprising her with new colors and patterns. Her flying machines, called aerobes, are small helium balloons that move on their own, guided by sensors and algorithms. They were first shown at a famous London museum during the pandemic, then moved to New York’s New Museum. The machines are part of a larger show that explores how people feel about technology, and some visitors see them as playful or hopeful, while others think of drones or sci‑fi creatures. The artist says she doesn’t want to explain everything; instead, she invites viewers to experience the mystery. Across all her work, a common thread is curiosity about life that we can’t see. She often uses microbes as a metaphor for hidden intelligence in the world, and she asks people to listen instead of fear. Her art feels like a conversation between machines, organisms and humans, showing that even the smallest creatures can inspire big ideas.