Enhancing the images

Press, 18 March 1986, Page 19

Enhancing the images

f Review 1

Ken Strongman

The Giotto spacecraft sounds like a very upmarket affair; either a piece of modern age space art or space loafers from Italy. It came as no surprise then that the pictures it sent back made the comet look like a psychedelic fried egg. Was it really the comet? We’ll never know. The running "cometry” set an odd scene. For a time it was unclear whether they were saying ‘nudist coverings” or new “discoveries.” It was good to see and hear Patrick Moore, who can make empty space sound frenzied. By comparison, as “Halley Highlights” began, James Burke was surprisingly inarticulate and was apparently trying to search for Halley from a first floor balcony. He tried hard to match Moore’s excitement, but it was actually difficult to stay awake through the programme. Words were spun out to inordinate lengths about very little. The approach of Giotto to the comet provided opportunity for inspired comparisons and analogies. Something was described as moving at 70 times the speed of a bullet; it was possibly Patrick Moore’s lips. The dust particles were also likened to bullets. Something was the size of a family saloon and something else could get from Auckland to Wellington in ten seconds. The dust, which threatened to obscure everything, ranged from the size of a dried pea (why dried?) to the particles in cigarette smoke (why cigarette?). There was a constant preoccupation with dust, there even being a dust impact detector. Perhaps there will be spin-off developments for use under the bed. As it was, it seemed odd to have such earnest conversations about dust 93,000,000 miles away. Everything that was not dust was dirty ice or somebody Whittle’s “dirty snowball.” A basic problem with “Halley Highlights” was that no-one knew exactly what the Giotto pictures represented, even after constantly “massaging” them. The only thing that they were certain of was that the colours were false. Meanwhile, back in the massage parlour everyone was scratching around for something to say. The best they could do was to speculate about bits breaking off the nucleus. Then it was into

some image enhancement, which meant looking at everything again in black and white. They all tried hard, but it was difficult to generate real excitement. Perhaps it was because the action was a hit remote, and anyway, what is so important about a once in a lifetime experience? Most of the best experiences occur more than once and some of the singular experiences remain singular for very good reasons. Excitement about dust and dirty ice is no easy matter. In the end, back in the New Zealand studio, Halley came into its own with the vigorous words of the genuine excited Frank Andrews. “There is nothing very absolute, unfortunately.” “Very absolute” indeed, or perhaps he meant “absolutely relative.” He went on to describe the “first glimpse of the solid, in inverted commas, nucleus of the comet.” What were inverted commas doing up there? Or perhaps it was ‘inverted comets.” It was all becoming a bit confused by then, and there was not much to be seen for dust. In comparison with all this, the “Benson and Hedges Fashion Design Awards” were relatively absorbing, with some impressive creativity. The exception was in the form of a couple of little numbers fashioned after comets — what crassness. In spite of some fine designs, there were hideous descriptions. What can be made of “soft silhouette in cream georgette,” the “new emphasis on fluidity” and the truly appalling "international chic in matching walk shorts?” For once Bob Parker, the presenter with fewer sequins, seemed uneasy. He kept holding out his open hands, as if to say “look, it speaks for itself.” His lack of ease was misplaced, since the programme was surprisingly good. It was interesting to see the new developments, either to admire them or at least to say “how could they?” And it had nothing to do with all that leather and the apparent return of the mini; honest