A night at the Baftas

Ben Affleck steals a march in the race to the Oscars.

On Sunday evening the British Academy Film and Television Awards (better known as the Baftas) were held at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden. The red carpet was a soggy scene, and Hollywood’s hottest intoned for many hours on meteorology. It was a happy television audience when Stephen Fry eventually brought his purple prose to the pulpit.

Ben Affleck won for his direction of Argo, which in turn was named best film, gaining it more yardage in its sprint toward Oscar success. Lincoln has been reclining in an armchair on the edge of the finish line for months, and may very way topple over it, with a yawn, by Oscar night. This is very difficult to call, but Argo’s thighs are certainly pumping after a resplendent Sunday in London. Quentin Tarantino’s original screenplay for Django Unchained was honoured. This makes coy amends for Tarantino’s inexplicable exclusion from the director category.
 
The acting categories went according to expectations – for the most part. As inevitable as Stephen Fry getting a gag about lubricant into his script, Anne Hathaway was awarded best supporting actress for her role as Fantine in Les Miserables, and the sun shone on the nothing new as Daniel Day-Lewis was named best actor. One is in mild emotional limbo as his performance in Lincoln wins another award (and continues its course toward an Oscar); not because it is undeserving, but because Joaquin Phoenix must remain un-lauded, left clawing at his beard at the back of the hall, having delivered such a performance in The Master, so twitching and boggled and brilliant. Christoph Waltz was awarded best supporting actor for Django Unchained, and in his studied and choppy English delivered a charming speech in which he praised Quentin Tarantino – "You silver-penned devil!" – against impending tears. This builds on his victory at the Golden Globes, though it would remain a surprise if he defeats Tommy Lee Jones, Alan Arkin and Philip Seymour Hoffman at the Oscars considering he took the statue for a comparable performance in Inglorious Basterds.
 
The British Academy’s compliance ceased at the best actress category, however, as they chose Emmanuelle Riva over Jennifer Lawrence and Jessica Chastain. Although one’s money is still safest behind Lawrence for the Oscar, the pluck it took to choose a 85 year old, whose heyday was the French New Wave, might re-conjure the dissident poltergeist which spooked the American Academy into voting for The Artist, and open minds to the possibility of making Riva their unlikely recipient. 
 
A number of the technical categories this year can be treated with more interest than the shoulder-shrugging they usually receive. Les Miserables was given the award for best sound in recognition of its recording technique, wherein actors perform their pieces live, dictating the tempo of their numbers rather than miming to a pre-recording (reservedly labeled ‘revolutionary’ in the making of musicals). In addition, Life of Pi was given the special visual effects award for a project that included the lavish creation of Richard Parker, the digital tiger, work which has been credited with making a significant contribution to the union of technology and art. 
 
Below is a complete list of the winners.
 
BEST FILM: Argo- Grant Heslov, Ben Affleck, George Clooney 
 
OUTSTANDING BRITISH FILM: Skyfall - Sam Mendes, Michael G.Wilson, Barbara Broccoli, Neal Purvis, Robert Wade, John Logan 
 
OUTSTANDING DEBUT BY A BRITISH WRITER, DIRECTOR OR PRODUCER: Bart Layton (Director), Dimitri Doganis (Producer) – The Imposter
 
FILM NOT IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE: Amour- Michael Haneke, Margaret Ménégoz 
 
DOCUMENTARY: Searching for Sugar Man- Malik Bendjelloul, Simon Chinn 
 
ANIMATED FILM: Brave - Mark Andrews, Brenda Chapman 
 
DIRECTOR: Argo – Ben Affleck
 
ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY: Django Unchained - Quentin Tarantino 
 
ADAPTED SCREENPLAY: - David O. Russell 
 
LEADING ACTOR: Daniel Day-Lewis - Lincoln
 
LEADING ACTRESS: Emmanuelle Riva - Amour 
 
SUPPORTING ACTOR: Christoph Waltz - Django Unchained 
 
SUPPORTING ACTRESS: Anne Hathaway – Les Miserables
 
ORIGINAL MUSIC: Skyfall - Thomas Newman 
 
CINEMATOGRAPHY: Life of Pi – Claudio Miranda 
 
EDITING: Argo - William Goldenberg 
 
PRODUCTION DESIGN: Les Miserables - Eve Stewart, Anna Lynch-Robinson 
 
COSTUME DESIGN: Anna Karenina - Jacqueline Durran 
 
MAKE UP & HAIR: Les Miserables - Lisa Westcott 
 
SOUND: Les Miserables - Simon Hayes, Andy Nelson, Mark Paterson, Jonathan Allen, Lee Walpole, John Warhurst 
 
SPECIAL VISUAL EFFECTS: Life of Pi - Bill Westenhofer, Guillaume Rocheron, Erik-Jan De Boer 
 
SHORT ANIMATION: The Making of Longbird - Will Anderson, Ainslie Henderson 
 
SHORT FILM: Swimmer - Lynne Ramsay, Peter Carlton, Diarmid Scrimshaw 
 
THE EE RISING STAR AWARD (voted for by the public): Juno Temple 
 
OUTSTANDING BRITISH CONTRIBUTION TO CINEMA: Tessa Ross 
 
THE BAFTA FELLOWSHIP: Alan Parker 
Ben Affleck at the Baftas (Photograph: Getty Images)
JACQUES DEMARTHON/AFP/Getty Images
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Why aren’t there more scientists in the National Portrait Gallery?

If the National Portrait Gallery celebrates the best of British achievements, there’s a vast area that is being overlooked.

The National Portrait Gallery (NPG) in London is my favourite place to visit in the city, even though I’m a mere scientist, or uncultured philistine as the gallery’s curators might consider me. Much of my research involves “omics”. We have “genomics” and “transcriptomics" to describe the science of sequencing genomes. “Proteomics” characterises our proteins and “metabolomics” measures refers to the small chemical “metabolites” from which we’re composed. The “ome” suffix has come to represent the supposed depiction of systems in their totality. We once studied genes, but now we can sequence whole genomes. The totality of scientific literature is the “bibliome”. The NPG purports to hang portraits of everyone who is anyone; a sort of “National Portraitome”.

However, I am increasingly struck by the subjective view of who is on display. Some areas of British life get better coverage than others. Kings and queens are there; Prime ministers, authors, actors, artists and playwrights too. But where are the scientists? Those individuals who have underpinned so much of all we do in the modern world. Their lack of representation is disappointing, to say the least. A small room on the ground floor purports to represent contemporary science. An imposing portrait of Sir Paul Nurse, Nobel laureate and current president of the world’s most prestigious science academy (the Royal Society (RS)) dominates the room. Opposite him is a smaller picture of Nurse’s predecessor at the RS, astronomer Martin Rees. James Dyson (the vacuum cleaner chap), James Lovelock (an environmental scientist) and Susan Greenfield all have some scientific credentials. A couple of businessmen are included in the room (like scientists, these people aren’t artists, actors, playwrights or authors). There is also one of artist Mark Quinn’s grotesque blood-filled heads. Some scientists do study blood of course.

Where are our other recent Nobel winners? Where are the directors of the great research institutes, funding bodies, universities and beyond? Does the nation really revere its artists, playwrights and politicians so much more than its scientists? I couldn’t find a picture of Francis Crick, co-discoverer of the key role played by DNA in genetics. Blur, however, are there. “Parklife” is certainly a jaunty little song, but surely knowing about DNA has contributed at least as much to British life.

Returning to my “omics” analogy, the gallery itself is actually more like what’s called the “transcriptome”. Genes in DNA are transcribed into RNA copies when they are turned on, or “expressed”. Every cell in our body has the same DNA, but each differs because different genes are expressed in different cell types. Only a fraction of the NPG’s collection ends up “expressed” on its walls at any one time. The entire collection is, however, available online. This allows better insight into the relative value placed upon the arts and sciences. The good news is that Francis Crick has 10 portraits in the collection – considerably more than Blur. Better still, Sir Alexander Fleming, the Scottish discoverer of antibiotics has 20 likenesses, two more than Ian Fleming, creator of James Bond. I had suspected the latter might do better. After all, antibiotics have only saved hundreds of millions of lives, while Bond saved us all when he took out Dr No.

To get a broader view, I looked at British winners of a Nobel Prize since 1990, of which there have been 27. Three of these were for literature, another three each for economics and physics, a couple for peace, five for chemistry and 11 for physiology or medicine. The writers Doris Lessing, Harold Pinter and V S Naipaul respectively have 16, 19 and five portraits in the collection. A majority of the scientist winners have no portrait at all. In fact there are just 16 likenesses for the 24 non-literature winners, compared to 40 for the three writers. Albeit of dubious statistical power, this small survey suggests a brilliant writer is around 20 times more likely to be recognised in the NPG than a brilliant scientist. William Golding (1983) was the last British winner of a Nobel for literature prior to the 90s. His eight likenesses compare to just two for Cesar Milstein who won the prize for physiology or medicine a year later in 1984. Milstein invented a process to create monoclonal antibodies, which today serve as a significant proportion of all new medicines and generate over £50bn in revenue each year. Surely Milstein deserves more than a quarter of the recognition (in terms of portraits held in the gallery) bestowed upon Golding for his oeuvre, marvellous as it was.

C P Snow famously crystallised the dichotomy between science and the humanities in his 1959 Rede lecture on “The Two Cultures and the Scientific Revolution” (which was based on an article first published in the New Statesman in 1956). He attacked the British establishment for entrenching a cultural preference for the humanities above science, a schism he saw growing from the roots of Victorian scientific expansion. The gallery supports Snow’s view. Room 18, my favourite, “Art, Invention and Thought: the Romantics” covers that turbulent period covering the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Here we find the groundbreaking astronomer (and harpsichordist) William Herschel, the inventor of vaccination Dr Edward Jenner, the pioneering chemist Humphrey Davy and the physicist who came up with the first credible depiction of an atom, John Dalton. Opposite Jenner (who also composed poetry) is the portrait of another medically trained sitter, John Keats, who actually swapped medicine for poetry. Wordsworth, Coleridge, Burns, Blake, Clare, Shelley and Byron, all adorn the walls here. The great Mary Shelly has a space too. She wrote Frankenstein after listening to Davy’s famous lectures on electricity. The early nineteenth century saw the arts and science united in trying to explain the universe.

Room 27, the richest collection of scientists in the building, then brings us the Victorians. The scientists sit alone. Darwin takes pride of place, flanked by his “bull dog” Thomas Huxley. Other giants of Victorian science and invention are present, such as Charles Lyell, Richard Owen, Brunel, Stephenson, Lister and Glasgow’s Lord Kelvin. Inevitably the expansion of science and understanding of the world at this time drove a cultural divide. It’s less clear, however, why the British establishment grasped the humanities to the bosom of its cultural life, whilst shunning science. But as the gallery portrays today, it is a tradition that has stuck. However, surely the NPG however has an opportunity to influence change. All it needs to do is put some more scientists on its walls.