Watermelon Mosaic Virus

Art is a quirky concept. Most of us have a decent idea about things we consider artistic, perhaps even a list of works we consider to be high art. But the limits of art are far more nebulous than the boundaries of individual taste. Do art and non-art exist on a spectrum? How could we define “artist?”

Imagine, for example, you don’t like the paintings of Vincent Van Gogh. Few people who hold this subjective viewpoint would reasonably argue that Van Gogh was not an artist, even if they don’t fancy his work. What constitutes the designation that one is an artist? Over time, civilizations, societies, or academies develop lists of individuals who garner near-universal status as artists. Van Gogh. O’keefe. Beethoven. Woolf.

But is anyone who holds a brush an artist? Is my four-year-old daughter with, shall we say, developing abilities an artist? Does art require skill?

Is art limited to humanity? Is Pockets Warhol, a capuchin monkey, an artist? Is Ruby the elephant? What about Pigcasso?

Perhaps less contentious than the murky middles between art and non-art, artist and non-artist, is the form of art. No medium or style can claim a monopoly.

Music, literature, painting, architecture, sculpture, cinema, dance, photography, and many subdivisions all fall under the massive umbrella of art.

One example of visual art that has captivated humanity for millennia is the mosaic. The form dates at least to the third century BCE in Mesopotama, before enchanting the Greeks, Romans, and early Christians. Modern artists have continued to use small pieces, called tesserae, to construct vivid imagery, from Antoni Gaudí to Marc Chagall.

Few could seriously question the mosaic’s rightful spot as a subgenre of art. The above pieces are, undoubtedly, works of fine art.

So, we’ve established the medium as a bona fide player in capital-A art.

And we’ve entertained the view that entities other than the stereotypical, romantic image of a creator might be considered artists.

Let’s take the thought experiment one step further and redefine the modern notion of viral image. Not just a meme or an internet sensation, a viral image can be a veritable work of art.

The striking designs on the watermelons above resemble the wormlike opus vermiculatum method of constructing a mosaic.

The artist seems to have used fruit as a medium, creating a mosaic in a style similar to the motifs in recent Zelda games, such as Breath of the Wild.

The employment of a watermelon as a canvas might be unconventional, but the medium isn’t the oddest thing about this form of shape art.

That designation would go to the fact that the artist of those mosaics is not alive.

The cause of the formations is a virus!

Watermelon mosaic virus is a non-persistent potyvirus. The “non-persistent” part means it does not replicate in the host, but relies on hosts to move it from one place to another. Watermelon mosaic virus hitches rides on the mouths of aphids, who want to munch on as many melons as possible. Depending on the stage of growth of the melon, one side effect of contamination is the development of a mosaic pattern on the rind.

As bizarre as this viral infection sounds, it’s not particularly uncommon. Dozens of mosaic viruses exist, including ones that hit soybeans, beans, peanuts, papayas, and zucchini. Nearly all legumes and cucurbits (the gourd family) can be affected by a mosaic virus.

In addition to mottling and mosaic, the virus can cause worse damage to watermelons if it encounters the fruit early enough. If it infects a plant in the nascent stages of life, it can cause leaf malformation and stunted growth, leading to a non-viable plant.

However, if the virus arrives while the melon is plump, art happens.

And, according to horticulturists, these viruses do not necessarily render the watermelon inedible. If you snag a ripe watermelon adorned with mosaic, it is safe to eat, as the virus poses no threat to humans, and it likely met its host too late in its life cycle to hinder its growth. If you find melons affected early, they likely won’t taste good, but you still wouldn’t develop adverse effects. Watermelon mosaic virus won’t doodle on humans.

Though the method the virus uses to draw lines on a watermelon is not well studied, it somehow changes the protein structures of the plant during infection.

Can we consider the virus an artist?

If a human carved a pleasing, intricate spiral structure into the rind of a pumpkin, we would likely consider that person an artist. Surely, the mosaic medium is a form of art.

Is there a Virus Van Gogh behind these creations, or is it a coincidence that the human mind finds this expression of chemistry to be artistic?

If Pigcasso is an artist, why not watermelon mosaic virus?