{"title":"黑洞和杀手小行星:公众对天文学的看法","authors":"F. Watson","doi":"10.1080/17508480009556354","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"\"When they set out to enjoy themselves, astronomers are no different from anyone else. True, their working lives are spent contemplating the infinite, but it is usually with their feet firmly on the ground that they have their fun. And, just as for anyone else, that occasionally turns out to be something extra-special. A couple of years ago, such a treat came my way in the shape of a concert given by the Sydney Symphony Orchestra on their home turf at the Opera House. Included in the program was the world premiere of a work by a close friend, the Sydney-based composer Ross Edwards. His second symphony, subtitled Earth Spirit Songs, was given a truly stunning first performance by the soprano Yvonne Kenny, and Sydney's concertgoers greeted it with rapture. When the modest and retiring Edwards briefly took the stage to acknowledge the applause, the response was deafening. It was a very special moment—and a welldeserved one. Ross' music has that peculiar combination of accessibility and inspired perfection that has always characterised the work of the most gifted composers. Its appeal is immediate, reaching out to people and finding something uniquely Australian in response. But, at the same time, it has great depth. Its finely-crafted structure bears detailed study long after the euphoria of the first performance has died away. You might be forgiven for wondering what this has to do with the public perception of astronomy. But I think the answer is not so deeply hidden. We have a science that has much in common with the music of a modern-day master like Ross Edwards. It has instant public appeal—accessibility, excitement, incredible beauty, and a sense of something singularly important to our understanding of our origins and our destiny. Yet it is founded on some of the most profound and difficult concepts of modern physics. Like an Edwards symphony, the Universe has an organic cohesion that requires deeper study for it to be fully appreciated. The result is a discipline with a unique place in the canon of scientific endeavour, certainly as far as its public profile is concerned.","PeriodicalId":347655,"journal":{"name":"Melbourne Studies in Education","volume":"39 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2000-11-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"3","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Black Holes and Killer Asteroids: The public perception of astronomy\",\"authors\":\"F. Watson\",\"doi\":\"10.1080/17508480009556354\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"\\\"When they set out to enjoy themselves, astronomers are no different from anyone else. True, their working lives are spent contemplating the infinite, but it is usually with their feet firmly on the ground that they have their fun. And, just as for anyone else, that occasionally turns out to be something extra-special. A couple of years ago, such a treat came my way in the shape of a concert given by the Sydney Symphony Orchestra on their home turf at the Opera House. Included in the program was the world premiere of a work by a close friend, the Sydney-based composer Ross Edwards. His second symphony, subtitled Earth Spirit Songs, was given a truly stunning first performance by the soprano Yvonne Kenny, and Sydney's concertgoers greeted it with rapture. When the modest and retiring Edwards briefly took the stage to acknowledge the applause, the response was deafening. It was a very special moment—and a welldeserved one. Ross' music has that peculiar combination of accessibility and inspired perfection that has always characterised the work of the most gifted composers. Its appeal is immediate, reaching out to people and finding something uniquely Australian in response. But, at the same time, it has great depth. Its finely-crafted structure bears detailed study long after the euphoria of the first performance has died away. You might be forgiven for wondering what this has to do with the public perception of astronomy. But I think the answer is not so deeply hidden. We have a science that has much in common with the music of a modern-day master like Ross Edwards. It has instant public appeal—accessibility, excitement, incredible beauty, and a sense of something singularly important to our understanding of our origins and our destiny. Yet it is founded on some of the most profound and difficult concepts of modern physics. Like an Edwards symphony, the Universe has an organic cohesion that requires deeper study for it to be fully appreciated. The result is a discipline with a unique place in the canon of scientific endeavour, certainly as far as its public profile is concerned.\",\"PeriodicalId\":347655,\"journal\":{\"name\":\"Melbourne Studies in Education\",\"volume\":\"39 1\",\"pages\":\"0\"},\"PeriodicalIF\":0.0000,\"publicationDate\":\"2000-11-01\",\"publicationTypes\":\"Journal Article\",\"fieldsOfStudy\":null,\"isOpenAccess\":false,\"openAccessPdf\":\"\",\"citationCount\":\"3\",\"resultStr\":null,\"platform\":\"Semanticscholar\",\"paperid\":null,\"PeriodicalName\":\"Melbourne Studies in Education\",\"FirstCategoryId\":\"1085\",\"ListUrlMain\":\"https://doi.org/10.1080/17508480009556354\",\"RegionNum\":0,\"RegionCategory\":null,\"ArticlePicture\":[],\"TitleCN\":null,\"AbstractTextCN\":null,\"PMCID\":null,\"EPubDate\":\"\",\"PubModel\":\"\",\"JCR\":\"\",\"JCRName\":\"\",\"Score\":null,\"Total\":0}","platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Melbourne Studies in Education","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1080/17508480009556354","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"","JCRName":"","Score":null,"Total":0}
Black Holes and Killer Asteroids: The public perception of astronomy
"When they set out to enjoy themselves, astronomers are no different from anyone else. True, their working lives are spent contemplating the infinite, but it is usually with their feet firmly on the ground that they have their fun. And, just as for anyone else, that occasionally turns out to be something extra-special. A couple of years ago, such a treat came my way in the shape of a concert given by the Sydney Symphony Orchestra on their home turf at the Opera House. Included in the program was the world premiere of a work by a close friend, the Sydney-based composer Ross Edwards. His second symphony, subtitled Earth Spirit Songs, was given a truly stunning first performance by the soprano Yvonne Kenny, and Sydney's concertgoers greeted it with rapture. When the modest and retiring Edwards briefly took the stage to acknowledge the applause, the response was deafening. It was a very special moment—and a welldeserved one. Ross' music has that peculiar combination of accessibility and inspired perfection that has always characterised the work of the most gifted composers. Its appeal is immediate, reaching out to people and finding something uniquely Australian in response. But, at the same time, it has great depth. Its finely-crafted structure bears detailed study long after the euphoria of the first performance has died away. You might be forgiven for wondering what this has to do with the public perception of astronomy. But I think the answer is not so deeply hidden. We have a science that has much in common with the music of a modern-day master like Ross Edwards. It has instant public appeal—accessibility, excitement, incredible beauty, and a sense of something singularly important to our understanding of our origins and our destiny. Yet it is founded on some of the most profound and difficult concepts of modern physics. Like an Edwards symphony, the Universe has an organic cohesion that requires deeper study for it to be fully appreciated. The result is a discipline with a unique place in the canon of scientific endeavour, certainly as far as its public profile is concerned.