25. jan. 2013

New issue of Apokalipsa journal

KUD Apokalipsa released Apokalipsa journal nr. 165-167 (2012/13), featuring English translations of poems by Barbara Korun, Esad Babačić, Stanislava Chrobakova Repar, Jure Novak, Primož Repar and Barbara Simoniti, prose by Iva Jevtić and Jurij Hudolin, and a series of essays on Soren Kierkegaard's philosophy

The Gender section includes essays by Ana M. Sobočan, Ana Makuc and Alenka Koželj, and A Megaphone, an extensive interview section dedicated to women writers from Slovakia and Slovenia who discuss their working conditions, relations between the writing of women, women's writing and feminisms, the role of institutional support for writers, and writers' self-organizing. It also features my interview with Stanislava Chrobakova Repar, herself a writer, the initiator of A Megaphone interviews and the editor of Apokalipsa's Gender section. The interview was conducted in 2011 as part of the "Grassroots Feminism: Transnational archives, resources and communities" project. It was originally published on the Grassroots Feminism website. 

The journal can be ordered directly from KUD Apokalipsa: revija@kud-apokalipsa.si

23. jan. 2013

Simpozij 'Humalga: Injektiranje' - odzivi in fotografije

Prirodoslovni muzej Slovenije

Na simpoziju Humalga: Injektiranje sem na povabilo Špele Petrič in Robertine Šebljanič, avtoric istoimenskega umetniškega projekta, v začetku januarja 2013 v Prirodoslovnem muzeju Slovenije z dr. Petrom Trontljem in zelo angažirano publiko debatirala o makroevoluciji in konceptu narave v humanistiki in evolucijski biologiji. Zaključni dan simpozija sem v Tivolskem rastlinjaku govorila o transvrstah v feministični znanstveni fantastiki.

Recenzijo predavanja Krajine prihodnosti - transvrste lahko preberete na spletni strani Radia Študent (Simona Jerala: Humalge v rastlinjaku, oddaja Fine umetnosti, 16. 1. 2013).

Pogovor o feministični znanstveni fantastiki se je nadaljeval nekaj dni kasneje, 22. januarja, v oddaji Partija čaja. Intervjuval me je Ivan Cepanec, posnetek pa naj bi bil v bližnji prihodnosti objavljen na tej povezavi.

Drugi medijski odzivi:
Kultura ob 22h, TV Slovenija, 10. 1. 2013 (od 02:24 dalje, takoj za Davidom Bowiejem:)
Petkov poudarek, Radio Slovenija, Program Ars, 11. 1. 2013
Kako bi človeka spremenila njegova sestrska vrsta? Siol.net, 11. 1. 2013
Kulturne novičke, Radio Študent 9.1. 2013

Fotografije je posnel Miha Fras.


Prirodoslovni muzej Slovenije

Biobanka popkovnične krvi

Biobanka popkovnične krvi

Biobanka popkovnične krvi - hladilnica

Biobanka popkovnične krvi - laboratorij

Robertina Šebjanič in Špela Petrič

Robertina Šebjanič in Špela Petrič

15. jan. 2013

Stiff Smiles

In December 2012, LifeTouch: Perspectives & Reflections, an online journal produced during Maribor's status as the European Capital of Culture (or rather, European Culture of Capital) came to a close. UMco published a selection of columns from the journal in a book entitled The State of Matters: Anthology of Perspectives & Reflections.

The anthology includes the (unauthorized) English translation of my last column written for them. The Slovene version, Togi nasmehi, was included in Stanje stvari: Antologija Perspektiv & refleksij (Ljubljana: UMco, 2012, pp. 82-85), the one in English can be read below.

Stiff Smiles 
Two years ago at a flea market, I bought a journal published in honor of the 35th anniversary of the establishment of the Iskra Kranj work organization. As it often happens to occasional publishers, they forgot to equip the booklet with the year, but I had no difficulty in guessing that the journal stemmed from socialist times. A modest cover, socialist self-management language, grainy photographs: everything had the aroma of age. I spent the majority of the time staring at photographs of the work collectives. There were dozens of them with a group of twenty, thirty workers in work robes awkwardly posing under the neon lights. The bulk of their bodies blocked the view of the conveyer belt in the background of a large hall.

It reminded me how long it has been since I saw a group photograph of work. I can verify that there are none in the daily newspapers. These days, the pages dedicated to careers and employment mostly show independent entrepreneurs, usually ones that started from nothing or created a new market niche. Team work is represented by photographs of three or four people sitting behind their laptops smiling sweetly. They are dressed in a business manner: no blue robes, no workman’s shoes. And no one is over thirty. I thought, I do not have any group photos from my workplace, even though I have gone through many – if the term workplace is even suitable for short-term project jobs that are paid through a student order form or a copyright contract.

The fact that photographs of working collectives have been replaced by images of project teams really should not surprise me. With whom are you to be photographed, if you are a contractual worker and jobs (even that word does not seem appropriate) come and go? With whom, if your co-workers are constantly changing? And with whom, if you work from the employer’s home or even in your own room? When I am not working alone, I am jumping between projects, which are usually so intense that there is no time for informal socializing with co-workers and if there is any spare time, I do not really want to spend it with them. They are interesting, but with every project I wonder: why keep meeting always new people that will go their separate ways after the work is done and the group has dissolved. If we ever meet again, the circumstances will most likely be just as intense. We will ask each other, what is new without knowing the prequel, without knowing what was old. This superficiality, new beginnings, this running in place: it is exhausting.

With the Iskra journal in my hands, I tried to imagine the image capturing my work experience. As it appeared before my eyes, I saw the perfect flexible worker. In it, I was alone, sitting at my computer, which, together with my cellphone and an old-fashioned paper notebook, represents my mobile office. I was surrounded by unrecognizable traces of people, rushing through the shot. The prints of those who stopped for a chat for a moment were clearer, but still looked like ghosts from emails, accidentally finding themselves in real space.

Sociologist Richard Sennett states that one the characteristics of flexible forms of work that started establishing themselves in the west during the seventies and in the early nineties in post-socialist countries is a short-term orientation (instead of a long-term one), encouraging competitiveness (instead of solidarity) and social exclusion (instead of inclusion). In places where people are still sharing a work space, the teams are smaller and the sense of community is weaker due to the constant rotation of workers. It simply takes time to develop mutual trust, loyalty and firmer bonds. The fact that workers perform the same work under different conditions and for different pay in the same company only further diminishes the possibility of a collective forming that would join forces to resist the pressures with more ease. It is not difficult to imagine that it is easiest to manipulate with unconnected workers, who, on top of everything else, compete among each other.

Sennett lists a variety of reasons why the term collective has been replaced in manager manuals with terminology (but not ethics as well), characteristic of group sports, where there the used term is team. The main reason is, of course, ideological, as the declared wish for collaboration and cooperation is merely a front, behind which the demand for rivalry is hidden. Instead of workers defending their interests to their bosses, they fight against each other. Even the control over the effectiveness and discipline of the co-workers (similar to our own diligence) is of late being done by ourselves as well.

So, what kind of co-worker or team player do flexible work teams require? They expect a person with distance who is aware that the work is of a temporary nature and therefore concentrates only on it and not on the co-workers, with which the worker could form certain kinds of relations. A flexible teammate cannot afford to feel mutual affection, least any grudges, betrayal or jealousy. Since the person cultivates a certain ironic distance towards everyone and everything, they can work with anyone and can immediately join a new team. They will listen and with a smile advise every teammate who plays by the set rules. They move between the projects, teams and individuals like between the windows on a computer screen. Since only the present counts, only the visible results of a recently completed work, a good teammate does not cite past experience. If they do, they risk ridicule: experience means someone must be inflexible – and old.

The only skill a flexible player must master is transitive: they must be able to play anywhere, anytime and with whom ever in accordance with the declared sport ethics. During this, they must bear the mask of cooperativeness and the mask of egalitarianism, which are to conceal the actual balance of power between the workers and their subordination to the boss. The latter no longer commands, but only “directs” the work process. If the directors used to use the argument of power, the project managers and coaches now claim that “we are all in the same boat”. When the boat starts sinking, right before splitting, the most cynical among them dare to say that they were equally hurt by the storm as their workers. The worker, who only lethargically shrugs the shoulders upon hearing this and starts looking for a new job, embodies the ideal of flexibility. May he be bent over and over, he will always bounce back. This kind of player is a player in the theatrical, not a sport sense. He wears a convincing mask, a bright smile and—most importantly—shuts up.

I do not know what kind of terminology was used to substantiate the work discipline in socialism, but the fact remains that the long-term employment ensured a high level of trust and solidarity among the workers, as it offered them safety and social inclusion. People could be proud of their experience, because the company would reward a job well done, even if a person advanced to higher paying levels more slowly – or did not advance at all. Since the moral prestige of work was so great, your loved ones would respect you no matter if you were content with your work or not. Since your time was organized by institutions that seemed immortal, you could string your own life story it them, given meaning by the permanent social relations.

Nowadays, the role of the character test is represented by the willingness to take risks. Even though you realize that the chances of you being selected from the hundreds of candidates, who applied to the same position, are very minute, everyone keeps encouraging you to keep trying. Every time I turned down an offer for a project job that was more prestigious than the job I was currently doing, but the promised pay for it was less and was less reliable, some or other well-meaning acquaintance would pop up to say in amazement: “You could have at least tried it, you deserve more!” I tried to explain to her to no avail that they were offering me a sham, that it was pure lottery. It was more important that I “move on”, even though that would mean consenting to worse working conditions. Clinging to work, perceived as poorly paid or boring, means you must be a bore and an idiot who does not want change and success. The thought of someone being content with what they have is unacceptable.

While leafing through the Iskra journal, everything stated above made it difficult to resist the urge to idealize the working conditions in socialism. You cannot choose a better place for that than the flea market. What do I look for there, if not for patches for my nostalgia? Well, it was somewhat more difficult to romanticize the price the workers had to pay in the state socialism for their long-term safety: Sennett claims it involved sacrificing either their freedom or their individuality; that the “iron cast” of the large, complex and rigid institutions were simultaneously a prison and a home.

The workers in the group photos did appear uniform and stiff. At first I only perceived a cluster of bodies, robbed of their individuality and intimacy. After I started looking for these, I of course found them. At first, I noticed two workers on a photograph from the spinnery (Iskra was a textile factory up to World War II, employing mostly women). They must be close: they are casually sitting on the floor, leaning on each other. Another photograph of the same department is diagonally crossed by a long look. Two workers on each end are silently sharing a titillating secret. A photograph of the weaving room surprised me because of the girls with their proto-punkish hairstyles. They are staring at the photographer so proudly and angrily that I had to avert my eyes. A woman in the first row stands out from a photograph with at least fifty people. She is pointing her finger at a serious-looking man beside her, laughing cheekily at him. On another photograph, I noticed the difference between the women, sitting with their legs squeezed together, their hand folded in their laps, and the worker, sitting next to her co-workers in a mannish manner. There is another girl who has snuck into the shot: while the collective diligently poses, she is peaking from behind some contraption and making grimaces. Another girl appears to be so unhappy that I wish someone could take her out of the factory and pay her college tuition, so that as a grown woman she could afford the nylons that are running away from her now: she works on a conveyer belt in the synthetics spinnery. A skinny looking boy is standing beside her, trying to look manlier, standing up straight, with spread legs and his hands placed on his narrow hips.

The longer I stared at the photographs, the more details I noticed, the more stories and connections between the unknown faces. There were no details on my fictitious photographs of my work experience. Not even a background. You, I decided at the flea market, will be my historical memory, my background for the group photo I am unable to take. If I ever feel truly bad, I will cut my face from a photograph with no background and glue it among your faces. I will make a black-and-white photograph, so that my colorful face blends in with yours.

I asked the lady selling the journal about its price. It was not cheap, she wanted five euro for it. I started haggling, saying I would cut it up for collages anyway. She did not like that prospect at all. She said it was not just any booklet; it contained a picture of her father, who worked at Iskra his entire life. I tried to rescue myself from this embarrassment by asking her to show me his picture. I expected that the journal would automatically open on the right page, but the lady had to look for it for a while. Her father was not posing in a collective; he was alone in the picture. He was not actually posing; he was photographed during his work with the machine, which was the second most common type of portraits that only started to appear in the second half of the journal, dedicated to the seventies and the ushering of new technologies. If the workers abandoned their work on the older photos to pose in a group photo, the newer photographs depicted the workers while working – from the back or from the side. I am not sure whether that was because photographing had become so commonplace by then and the work process was not allowed to stop for every trifle, but the moment the lady showed me the photograph of her father, his machine looked back at me instead of him; the same machine that in a few years made him redundant as a “technological excess”.

I did not have the heart to start haggling again. Or the courage to turn down something so personal. Only after I was home, did I think how strange it was that the lady was selling the book at all. If she were truly attached to the booklet, she would not be selling it. She obviously had a mountain of extra copies left. Of was she proud of the fact that her father, a manual laborer, appeared in a real book? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I actually purchased a patch for my own nostalgia. The lady set the price to my, not her emotions. From that aspect, I convinced myself, that the book was actually quite inexpensive.

A short while ago, while reading Sennett's The Culture of the New Capitalism (2008), the Iskra journal found its way into my hands again. This time I decided the lady must not have insisted on the relatively high price because of her own attachment to the journal or her father, but the meaning he ascribed to his work identity. The work identity corresponded to the best character features in his time; it included responsibility and sacrifice, care for others, solidarity to the co-workers, loyalty to the company and the ability of planning a person’s own future. I thought how unlikely it was that his fifty year-old daughter can combine the listed values, if they even are values to her, with the demands of her work environment. The flexible job, if she even has one, dictates her sloppiness, distance, risk, mobility. Therefore, when she wishes for safety, she feels old. When she wishes or permanent relationships and stability, she feels like a coward. When she commits herself to her work completely, she is regarded as naive, when she tries more than necessary, she gets the feeling of being foolish. When she tries to construct her own life story from countless fragments, she feels like she has nothing to lean on. Sometimes she feels like she does not even exist. How is she to face all this uncertainty? Should she take to intimacy? I wonder whether the lady from the flea market has to try not to idealize those photographs either, even if they seem more restrictive than they seemed to the people on the photographs.

Translated by Živa Malovrh.
First published on the LifeTouch portal on October 2nd 2012.

10. jan. 2013

Oddaja Sektor Ž: Solidarité

Z novim letom - nove zgodbe. Z družbenih robov jih v vaša ušesa pošilja feministična klika Radia Študent. Oddajo bomo začele s triphoperskim komadom sarajevske producentke Ellem in MC-jke Dre oziroma zasedbe Black Water and Her Daughter. Dre je glasbeno kilometrino nabirala v fluorescentno-ekscesnem elektro-treš triu Starke, po svojem 'pravem imenu' pa je Andreja Dugandžić znana kot pesnica, ki je enako neizprosna kot okolje, v katerem ustvarja. Z njo se bomo pogovarjale prav o tej neizprosnosti. V drugo polovico oddaje bomo zakorakale s Pesmijo upora ženskega pevskega zbora Kombinat, ki je izdal svoj prvi album. Pesem bomo podkrepile z zahtevami Vstajniških socialnih delavk, ki so objavile svoj manifest, in v pogovoru s pobudnico vstaje Sonjo Lokar ugotavljale, zakaj se pri nas "glas, ki bi izpostavil nedeljive človekove pravice žensk, ne sliši na dovolj artikuliran način". Na koncu oddaje se bomo poslovile od pisateljice in novinarke Maruše Krese. Oddajo sva pripravili Ida Hiršenfelder in Tea Hvala.

V soboto, 12. januarja 2013, ob 12.00 v živo na Radiu Študent, kasneje na tej povezavi.

4. jan. 2013

Špela Petrič in Robertina Šebjanič: ‘Humalga: Injektiranje’ - Vabilo na simpozij

*Scroll down for English version

Špela Petrič & Robertina Šebjanič: ‘Humalga: Injektiranje’ 

Vabilo na simpozij

Galerija Kapelica, Kersnikova 4, Ljubljana
Simpozij: 8., 9. in 10. januar, 2013
lokacije: BioTehna, Prirodoslovni muzej Slovenije, Biobanka popkovnične krvi in Rastlinjak Tivoli Botaničnega vrta

Galerija Metropolis, Kersnikova 6, Ljubljana
Razstava: 17. december 2012 do 14. januar 2013


V luči negotovih okoljskih, socialnih in ekonomskih razmer v sodobni družbi, projekt predlaga vzpostavitev post-tehnološkega (ne-strojnega) medija, ki bo omogočal dolgoročno preživetje človeku podobne vrste kot nosilke človeske kulture.

Transvrsta humalga je genetski hibrid med človekom in algo. Genoma obeh partnerjev združena v isti celici izmenično tvorita avtonomni morfološki obliki človeka ali alge, ki si sledita v zapletenem življenjskem krogu (ksenogeneza). Alga transvrstnemu hibridu prispeva svojo preživetveno samozadostnost in sposobnost nespolnega razmnoževanja, človeški partner pa svojo tehnološko in kulturno zapuščino ter zapletene mehanizme spolne selekcije in reprodukcije.

Kot umetniško-raziskovalni projekt ‘Humalga’ vključuje metodologijo znanstvenega raziskovanja: zbiranje relevantnih podatkov, tematski pogovori med znanstveniki, tehnologi in umetniki (simpozij), povezovanje različnih strokovnih institucij, predstavitev teze, pridobitev soglasja etične komisije, izvedba dokaznega procesa (proof-of-concept). V celoten proces vključuje strokovno in širšo javnost.

‘Humalga: Injektiranje’ je drugi korak v nizu produkcije in predstavljanj projekta z naslovom ‘Humalga: Na poti k človeski spori’. V tem koraku se s sodelavci osredotočajo na mehanizme biološke adaptacije in evolucije, ki sta bodisi spodbujeni načrtno (vzreja, molekularni inženiring) bodisi brez človeške intervencije (naravna selekcija) ter sopostavljajo biološke pojave z družbenimi. S tovrstnim pristopom opozarjajo tako na vzporednice kot tudi razlike med humanističnimi in naravoslovnimi pristopi k razumevanju vloge človeka na Zemlji.

Več o projektu K človeški spori: spomini na algo

Osrednji dogodek drugega koraka v projektu je simpozij, ki bo potekal 8., 9. in 10. januarja, na katerem se bosta avtorici srečali s strokovnjaki/raziskovalci, ki bodo v okvirih umetniškega projekta skušali vzpostaviti ontološki diskurz terRabiologija (terra – Zemlja, tera – pošast, prikazen) o izvoru, evoluciji in prihodnosti življenja in kulture na Zemlji znotraj katere je mogoče misliti povezave med psihologijo, fiziologijo in biologijo transvrste humalge.

O relevantnih temah se bomo pogovarjali z dr. Petrom Trontljem (področje evolucijske biologije), dr. Polono Tratnik (področje filozofije in biotehnologije) in Teo Hvala (področje sociologije in znanstvene fantastike).

Tekom simpozija se bomo vsako dopoldne med 11. in 13. uro srečali v prostorih BioTehne. Popoldanski pogovori avtoric s strokovnjaki in javnostjo se bodo odvijali na različnih lokacijah:

8. januar: Makroevolucija - naravni in kulturni fenomen
17.45 - 20.00 Prirodoslovni muzej Slovenije. Gosta pogovora: dr. Peter Trontelj in Tea Hvala.

9. januar: Ontologija živega
17.45 - 20.00 Biobanka popkovnične krvi.* Gostja pogovora dr. Polona Tratnik.

10. januar: Krajine prihodnosti - transvrste
17.45 - 20.00 Rastlinjak Tivoli Botaničnega vrta. Gostja pogovora Tea Hvala.

20.30 Galerija Metropolis, pogostitev ob zaključku simpozija.

Lokacije simpozija:
Prirodoslovni muzej Slovenije, Prešernova 20, Ljubljana
Biobanka popkovnične krvi, Prevale 9, OIC Trzin, Trzin
Rastlinjak Tivoli Botaničnega vrta Univerze v Ljubljani
BioTehna, Kiberpipa, Kersnikova 6, Ljubljana
Galerija Metropolis, Kersnikova 6, Ljubljana

*Prijave za organizirani prevoz do Trzina zbiramo do 7.januarja oz. do zapolnitve mest, na mail naslovu: info@kapelica.org


Avtorici projekta: Robertina Šebjanič in Špela Petrič
Zasnova in izvedba mikroinjektorja: Urs Gaudenz
Nacrtovanje akvarije: Špela Petrič in Robertina Šebjanič
Izvedba akvarijev: Scenart, David Pilipovič s.p.
Zahvala: Prirodoslovni muzej Slovenije, Biobanka popkovnične krvi, Rastlinjak Tivoli Botaničnega vrta Univerze v Ljubljani, Boštjan Bugarič, AlgEn - algae technology center d.o.o., Andrej Petrič, FKKT

Produkcija: Galerija Kapelica / Zavod K6/4
Koprodukcija: LJUDMILA

Projekt so podprli: Ministrstvo za izobraževanje, znanost, kulturo in šport RS, MOL – Oddelek za kulturo in ŠOU v Ljubljani

Špela Petrič & Robertina Šebjanič: HUMALGA: INJECTION // SYMPOSIUM

Kapelica Gallery, Kersnikova 4, Ljubljana
Symposium, 8., 9. and 10. of January 2013
Venue: BioTehna, Slovenian Museum of Natural History, Biobanka and Glasshouse Tivoli of the University Botanic Gardens

Metropolis Gallery, Kersnikova 6 Ljubljana
Exhibition: December 17th 2012 – January 14th 2013

In light of the environmental, social, and economic instabilities affecting the modern human, the project proposes a biotechnologically engineered post-technological vehicle, which could facilitate the long-term survival of a species of human and its evolving culture.

The humalga trans-species is a genetic hybrid of the human and the alga. The fusion of the two entities, however, does not result in a mutant morphology. Rather, the partners remain as distinct organisms, connected through a complex life cycle (xenogenesis). The alga, evolutionally one of the oldest and self-sufficient eukaryotes, lends its inherent resilience, autotrophy and asexual reproduction to the trans-species, whereas the human contributes his technological and cultural legacy as well as the intricate mechanisms of sexual selection and reproduction. As an art project, Humalga will loosely mimic the scientific research process including gathering information on the topic of interest, discussion among peers (symposium), connecting to institutions and funding bodies, proposing a thesis, obtaining ethical consent and conducting proof-of-concept experiments whilst engaging the public in every step.

Humalga: Injection is the second in a series of installations representing the art-research project titled Humalga: Towards the Human Spore. The present phase of the project focuses on the mechanisms of biological adaptation and evolution, be it with (breeding, molecular engineering) or without human intervention (natural selection).

Central to the art piece is a “wet symposium”. Mediated by the engagement of experts/researchers in the formation of an artwork, we will nucleate a transient cross-disciplinary field terRabiology (terra – Earth, tera (Greek) – monster), which would examine the psychology, physiology and biology of the trans-species humalga.

The relevant topics will be discussed with Dr. Peter Trontelj (evolutionary biology), Dr. Polona Tratnik (philosophy and biotechnology) and Tea Hvala (sociology and science fiction).

The symposium will take place between January 8. – 10. Each morning we will meet at BioTehna between 11.00 and 13.00. Afternoons will be dedicated to guided discussions between the experts and the public.

January 8th: Macroevolution as a Natural and Cultural Phenomenon
17.45 - 20.00 Slovenian Museum of Natural History. Guest speakers: Dr. Peter Trontelj and Tea Hvala.

January 9th: Ontology of the Living
17.45 - 20.00 Biobank.* Guest speaker: Dr. Polona Tratnik.

January 10th: Future Landscapes - Transspecies
17.45 - 20.00 Glasshouse Tivoli of the University Botanic Gardens. Guest speaker: Tea Hvala.

20.30 Metropolis Gallery, symposium conclusion party

Locations of symposium:
Slovenian Museum of Natural History, Prešernova 20, Ljubljana
Biobanka, Prevale 9, OIC Trzin, Trzin
Glasshouse Tivoli of the University Botanic Gardens
BioTehna, Kiberpipa, Kersnikova 6, Ljubljana
Galerija Metropolis, Kersnikova 6, Ljubljana

*Reservations for an organized transport to Trzin (Biobanka) can be made until January 7th 2013, or until all the seats are taken, to the e-mail: info@kapelica.org


Authors: Robertina Šebjanič in Špela Petrič
Concept and realization of the microinjector: Urs Gaudenz
Aquarium design: Špela Petrič in Robertina Šebjanič
Aquarium construction: Scenart, David Pilipovič s.p.
Producer and co-producer: Kapelica Gallery and LJUDMILA; The LJUDMILA`s program and Gallery Kapelica are both supported by the Slovene Ministry of Education, Science, Culture and Sport and MOL – Department of Culture.

Special thanks to: Slovenian Museum of Natural History, Biobanka, Glasshouse Tivoli of the University Botanic Gardens, Boštjan Bugarič, AlgEn - algae technology center d.o.o., Andrej Petrič, FKKT