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| VOLUME 30, NUMBER 18 | WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 2000 | ISSN 1199-5246 |



Astronomically Speaking

Click here for January Starchart

By Chris Stewart and Roman Koniuk

What would you say if I told you we could travel in time?

Politely, I'm sure, you would recommend a few deep breaths, and maybe suggest I check the proper dosage on my medication next time.

Well, we're all time travelers - we travel in time from our birth to our death, a century or so later.

Not impressed?

But wait, just go outside tonight, and look up. The brightest star you can see, in the constellation of Canis Major, that's Sirius, the Dog Star. Sirius is about nine light-years away. (Though it sounds like a length of time, one light-year is the distance light travels in one year, roughly ten million million kilometers.) Light took nine years to travel from that star to our eyes. So really, you're looking at the star the way it was nine years ago.

Time travel, you see?

To which you reply, that's cheating. Now go away and leave me alone.

It's quite an amazing thought, though. Wherever you gaze, you're not just looking out into space, you're also looking back in time. The greater the distance to a star, the longer light has taken to travel across the intervening cosmos to reach your eyes, and so the longer ago it must have begun the journey. Some of the farthest objects ever discovered are billions of light-years away - which means we are seeing them now as they looked billions of years ago! In fact, even now we can "see" the faint glow of the entire universe as it looked shortly after the Big Bang.

There is another way to travel in time, but it takes a little more effort than gaping up at the stars. Here's what we'll do: find a couple of stopwatches and very fast rocket ship. Start the stopwatches together, keep one for yourself, while I take the other and climb aboard the rocket. I punch in the coordinates for a round trip to Sirius, set the cruise control close to the speed of light (say, nine-tenths), and wave farewell as I zoom off into the void.

At this speed, roughly 270,000 kilometers a second, I hurtle across the cosmos, reaching the star in about 10 years, where I then turn around and take another 10 years to return. By the time I get back, you're 20 years older, and probably getting just a bit tired of waiting.

When I step down from my trusty spacecraft, something strikes you as odd - I don't seem to have aged nearly as much as you have. When we compare our stopwatches, yours says it took twenty years for me to complete the trip. My watch, astoundingly, measures a time of just over eight years.

How is this possible? You think maybe the watches are defective, except I certainly haven't aged as much as you have. Maybe I'm just blessed with a young complexion.

The answer to this conundrum lies in a physical theory known as special relativity. Albert Einstein's famous work, first announced to the world in 1905, leads to some very strange conclusions about our universe. It turns our everyday notions of time and space on their heads. Before Einstein, people could change where they were, but could do nothing about when they were. Most people thought of time as a river, carrying us all inexorably to the future. Time, and also distance, were immutable.

If you and I each measure the length of an object, we expect to get the same result. Special relativity says this is true as long as we are standing still next to each other, but as soon as one of us is moving with respect to the other, we will measure different distances. The faster our relative speed, the less we will agree on the distance.

So when I launch off at high speed, you and I measure different distances for the journey to Sirius. To you standing on the Earth, the distance is nine light-years. But for me, travelling at close to speed of light, Sirius is just a bit over three and a half light-years away. In relativity-speak, this is known as 'length-contraction'.

If you could watch my clock as I speed away, you would notice it running slower than yours. In fact, to you, my heart rate would seem slower too, as would my breathing, my hair growth, everything! Though it all feels normal to me, to you my world would seem to be running slow. Relativity says that time, too, changes with speed - the faster I go, the slower my time seems to you, an effect called 'time-dilation'.

While it may sound like science fiction, these effects of relativity are real, and are routinely observed in modern physics laboratories. We don't notice them in our daily lives, because the effects are only apparent at speeds close to the speed of light.

Still unimpressed? What about the possibility of travelling back in time? What if you could change history, go back and find your parents, somehow prevent yourself from ever being born? What would Einstein say about such heresy?

But that, as they say in the classics, is another story....

Chris Stewart is a PhD student and Roman Koniuk is the Chair of the Department of Physics and Astronomy at York University.

  

York Dances! Moving Spaces

Final performance at York Dances!, choreographed by Diana Matson

By Nishat Karim

Final performance at York Dances!, choreographed by Diana Matson
(photo by Trevor Hughes)

It was a combination of a toast to a lovely couple, feeling trapped in a black hole, a struggle with gender issues, and the recollection of one woman's Irish ancestry all emotionally expressed through the use of soft, flowing body movements gliding across a stage.

Moving Spaces, a program of 12 new dance works by York's student choreographers was set within Burton Auditorium in the Centre for Fine Arts. The dancers came out of their studios from Thursday, Nov. 25, through to Saturday, Nov. 27, to dazzle us all with one performance daily, with the exception of two on Saturday.

Created by a third year choreography class, each student composed and presented their work to the class before the end of the term. Some chose to present their talent at Moving Spaces, displaying to a larger audience what dance at York is really all about. Included in this year's performances are works by Annastacia Bourgeois, Megan English, Andrea Babich, Sonia Quadrini, Emily Cheung, Cathy Coyle, Julie Laschuk, Barb Lindinberg, Christa Lochead, Diane Matson and Shanel Scott. The dancers performing their creations were York dance students, most chosen through auditions which took place in September, and others who were selected by the choreographers themselves.

According to Sara Porter, the newest member of York's Dance Department and the director of this exciting course, what made the performances so unique and interesting is that the show was filled with unexpected surprises - such as the dancers coming out of the audience and a beautiful finale with snow falling on the stage.

Porter, known for her humorous theatrical works, has danced in shopping malls, bars, parking lots and art galleries as well as at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Canada Dance Festival and Montreal's Off-Festival International de Nouvelle Danse. Her dance training began when she was 18, and since then Porter's work has been described as "wickedly funny", "zany", and embodying a "rare and genuine goofiness".

Looking back, she recalls that this is the first time she has ever directed students, but is very glad she did. Next year, she hopes to see more site specific pieces, whereby students choose a location such as Vari Hall to display their choreography. And although Porter admits this is complicated logistically, it is very exciting to watch the students put together.

Also playing a critical role behind the scenes was Mickey Wagg, technical director of Moving Spaces. Wagg lead the student crews and lighting designers to make the technical aspects of the performance a huge success. Like Porter, Wagg is also new to the Dance Department and together with the little knowledge they had about previous performances, they oversaw a dynamic display of talent.

   

Evolution: is it a religious faith?

By Cathy Carlyle

Is evolution a form of religious faith or is it of a purely scientific nature? Professor of philosophy and zoology Michael Ruse from the University of Guelph posed the question in January at a Brown Bag Seminar at Atkinson College.

In the 18th century, while some saw it as what Ruse termed a secular religion, others believed it to be biological progress. For instance, Charles Darwin's grandfather Erasmus viewed evolution in much the same way as he did the theory of industrial progress. The former he deemed progress in biological terms, "and it was a compelling ideology that drove him. He believed in it, rather than in the Jewish creationist stories. He was an ardent deist, who saw God as an unmoved mover working through unbroken law. For him, evolution meant that humans can do something for themselves. By contrast, theists believed we cannot raise ourselves up except through God's grace."

Erasmus Darwin was not the only one to see evolution in that light. In France, biologist and radical thinker Jean Baptiste de Lamarck perceived it as important movement fitting in with his own theory of organic progression. However, French naturalist Georges Cuvier disputed the theory of evolution, saying that providence is at work.

"Charles Darwin was coming into all sorts of things in the 19th century when he began developing his theory of evolution and natural selection: atheism, design, theism, pseudo evolution, evolution as a pseudo science, creationism. It never was just atheism and science on one side and religion on the other," said Ruse.

Fundamentalist Christians, or "creationists", saw Darwin's beliefs as totally incompatible with theirs, said Ruse. They regarded his theory and atheism as tightly linked. "Indeed, for the creationist, Darwinism is simply atheism given a scientific face. But, in fact, to a person, one can truly say that all of the early evolutionists were sincere believers."

Ruse explained that Darwin was able to draw on the Christian theology and deistic beliefs of his day and background. "The whole family - the 'Anglican', non-believer father and deistic Unitarian mother - was ardently committed to progress. Darwin was able to draw on the Christian theology of his day and the deistic beliefs. He was a man of many parts and, almost like a kaleidoscope he would shake everything up and make another picture. He was a man interested in science yet, not wanting to become a doctor, headed to Cambridge to become an Anglican clergyman."

Darwin left England as a Bible-quoting Christian when he ventured on the voyage of The Beagle to the Galapagos Islands in the 1830s. It is during that time away that his theism "goes out the window and deism comes in", said Ruse. "He is now a deist, committed to law and progress. He takes on a partly-secular ideology. He still believes that God designs, but at a distance. As he develops his theory of evolution and natural selection, it is an Anglican theology that shapes the kind of evolutionist that Darwin becomes. I think Darwin was less religious than a lot of people of his day, but he was still motivated in part by religion."

According to Ruse, biologist Thomas Henry Huxley and physicist John Tyndall used Darwin's theory to further their own ideas of the world. In many respects, they saw the Anglican church as being allied with reactionism. In their minds, a state-supported meritocracy and secular professional civil service was the way to progress and evolution was one key to making all that happen. In the opposite camp was the High Church Bishop of Oxford Samuel Wilberforce "who felt uncomfortable at the implications of Darwinism for humankind, particularly at the suggestion that human beings might have had a purely naturalistic origin. Wilberforce thought that natural selection failed to speak adequately to the question of design [by God]."

He concluded by saying that he sees evolution as having been a religious theory all the way through and that to take a Darwinian position does not necessarily lead to atheism. "Nothing in Darwinism absolutely forbids a belief in Christianity. Perhaps, indeed, there are things in Darwinism which the Christian might find comforting.

"I will leave you with final thoughts from 20th century evolutionist J.B.S. Haldane," said Ruse. "He pointed out that there is absolutely no reason to think that mid-range primates - such as we humans - have evolved the ability to delve into the ultimate mysteries of reality. Not only may the real world be stranger than we think it is, Haldane said, but it may be even stranger than we could possibly think it is. He said accepting Darwin ought to instill in one a sense of modesty...about the range over which our abilities can reach and grasp."

   

   

Senate Synopsis

At its meeting of December 9, 1999, the Senate of York University:

 

Expressed its appreciation to the outgoing Chair, Professor Allan Hutchinson;

Noted remarks by President Marsden on strategic challenges and priorities, highlighting forecast increase in enrolments and the need for operating and capital funding to support quality objectives;

Elected Professor Margo Gewurtz as Vice-Chair of Senate, effective immediately;

Noted reports from the Committee on Curriculum and Academic Standards (CCAS) on Senate Harmony Initiative and the pending audit of York's Undergraduate Program Review procedures by the Undergraduate Program Review Audit Committee (UPRAC) of the Ontario Council of Academic Vice-Presidents (OCAV);

Approved legislation for the Chartering and Review of Research Centres/Institutes at York University.

For further information, please contact the Secretariat at (416) 736-5012.

  

East, meet west: Bang a gong with the York "Gamelan"

Students and professor at 
Summer 1999

By Michael Todd

Students and professor at Summer 1999 gamelan course.

Where else could students get a chance to pluck, bow and bang sulinds, pekings, panerus, bonangs, gambangs, jenggongs, gongs and keneangs, if not at York? It's all part of the University's multicultural diversity that's found expression in York's own Javanese gamelan (orchestra) - one of the world's great orchestral traditions.

That students can do so at all is thanks to instruments on loan from the Indonesian Consulate General in Toronto.

Young York musicians tackle the ancient musical culture of central Java's court at least once a week practising their repertoire using notasi kepatihan or Javanese cipher notation, along with oral transmission.

York's Gamelan was made in the royal city of Surakarta in Java, and consists of gongs, gong- chimes, metallophones, drums, a xylophone, flute, spiked-fiddle and zither. They're all tuned to laras slendro, one of two traditional Javanese scales.

Gamelan music is one component of Javanese ritual, theatrical and dance practices. Along with learning how to play the various hand drums and pot-like instruments resembling high-end kitchenware, students learn songs to be accompanied by the gamelan repertoire. Songs are part of the karawitan or classical music arts of Java.

Various Canadian artists have composed for gamelan, and renowned composer and York faculty member James Tenney is among them. Tenney recently had his piece "The Road to Ubud" - for gamelan and prepared piano - performed and recorded by The Evergreen Club gamelan ensemble. His piece appears on the CD, The Road to Ubud (Artifact Music).

If you'd like to hear more, the York Gamelan will present a concert of traditional Javanese music March 26, 3pm in the McLaughlin Performance Hall.

  

  

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