Star Struck

When it comes to space, there is a basic level of comprehension that my brain can take before my thought processes overload and start making confused whirring sounds like a dodgy laptop. For instance, take the 2014 Astronomy Photographer of the Year competition, the winners of which are still on display at the Royal Observatory Greenwich. Here is a photograph by Finland’s J-P Metsävanio which shows “part of the Veil Nebula, a SNR (supernova remnant) in the constellation Cygnus at a distance of about 1470 light years.” That means it would take a human being 1470 years to get there travelling at the speed of light - which is impossible, by the way, in case you were planning a trip. The photograph wasn't taken from a space station either, but on Planet Earth with a “Meade LX200 GPS 12-inch telescope”. You can buy one on eBay now, if you have a spare $2500. Telescopes are now so powerful and accessible that we can observe - from our own back yard – dazzling, alien light shows so far away that they're probably not even there anymore.

The fantastical cloud of colour captured here and uploaded to Flickr is the gas emanating from a star which exploded over 5000 years ago and is expanding at such a rate that it is now 36 times larger than our moon. I mean, how do we even begin to understand something like that? What is particularly encouraging is that even learned astrophysicists don't fully get what's going on up there. Everything we can observe in space – the planets, the stars, the galaxies and so on – make up less than five per cent of the universe. That means there is 95 per cent of unexplained, unexplored otherness out there. No wonder human beings since the dawn of time have been looking up in fascination. Despite our continued explorations and incredible technological advances, it is a universal part of the human condition to gaze at the sky and consider our place in this vast sea of awesome wonder.

These incredible photographs show not only the phenomenal and startling beauty of the cosmos, but the extraordinary lengths people go to in capturing it. American photographer Bill Snyder used an exposure time of 13 hours to capture this stunning picture of the Horsehead Nebula (left). It looks like something out of Star Trek: a nightmarish vision of biblical, apocalyptic fury. The images represent such impenetrably huge concepts that I find it necessary to reduce them down to the smallest analogies to help with my understanding. Like the number of images of the sun (I thought you went blind if you looked directly at the sun? Perhaps a scientist can explain that to me, too). This molten ball of turbulent fire starts to resemble a sloshing cauldron of soup, forever on the brink of boiling over. The Aurora over a Glacier by the UK’s James Woodend was the overall winner (pictured below), and due to the proliferation of photo-editing software my immediate cynical response was that it must have been doctored. The Northern Lights appear too perfectly balanced; the warm, reflective colours contrast profoundly against the chill of an Icelandic glacier. Stunning.

If you’re planning to visit the exhibition, then you simply must spend the £6.50 required to visit the Planetarium, in which you can watch a fully-immersive 30-minute film as it projects above your head. It’s a dizzying audio-visual experience like nothing else; it feels like your tilted chair is being propelled through space, putting your stomach somewhere near the vicinity of your shoes. As the renowned American astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson explains the theories of dark matter, I realise my brain has once again entered standby mode. The film takes on the same cerebral, meditative qualities of one of Professor Brian Cox’s hypnotic TV shows, the aim of which appears to be to lull the viewer into a dumbstruck stupor where even the exotic names of distant galaxies and constellations form part of a vast poetic tapestry. The music adds to the therapy – it’s the kind of thing they play in a yoga class. I hope the parents behind me are paying a bit more attention, as their infant child leans over to ask, “Mummy, what’s an atom?” Good luck with that, folks.

The free Astronomy Photographer of the Year 2014 exhibition runs until 22 February 2015 at the Royal Observatory Greenwich. Dark Universe is shown daily in the Planetarium.

Elvis is in the Building

It’s hard to imagine Elvis at 80. Maintaining the quiff would have been tricky, and if he had continued to expand at the same rate (eight men were required to carry his 900lbs coffin) then he may well be sitting in the entrance of the Natural History Museum by now. Original rock and rollers would probably say that Elvis had already died in a professional sense in 1958, when he was drafted into the army. The hip-shaking, corruptive rebel of rock and roll - the "devil's music" - had been conditioned, adopted by "the man" to become a poster-boy for military discipline and nationalism. Over 50 photographers were called in to capture the symbolic moment when they cut off his hair: those iconic locks reduced to a standard-issue buzz cut.

The music went a bit downhill too; his blue suede shoes replaced with the more wholesome image of a southern crooner, and his reductive pursuit of a Hollywood career saw him become increasingly irrelevant during the era of beat bands and psychedelic rock. But there is a cruel irony to the fact that Elvis' range was never bettered than when he was at his most dangerously unhealthy. Anyone who has heard his Unchained Melody during his final television special for CBS can attest to that.

You won’t hear mention of those bloated years at the current Elvis at the O2 exhibition, which runs until the end of August. You could easily leave thinking the last five years of his life didn't really happen: the divorce, the barbiturates, the paranoia, the peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwiches. (As a side note, it should be noted that his favourite culinary choices are at least alluded to in The Presley Family Cookbook, available in the gift shop, which features the dubious delight of the Cola Salad, the ingredients of which include black cherry Jell-O, chopped apple, raisins, pecans, white grapes, cream cheese and tinned pineapple. Then, according to the preparation guide, you need to "add Pepsi-Cola and stir".)

The exhibition is instead a fantastic hagiography of The King encompassing over 300 personal artefacts – the largest exhibition of Elvis memorabilia ever displayed in Europe – with much of it brought over from his Graceland home. There are so many items that you can’t help but feel sympathy for the fans currently paying admission to his Memphis residence only to find the garage empty and half the wardrobe missing. Maybe Priscilla will use the time wisely and get the cleaners in.

It's a busy, eager crowd: families, couples and people of all ages. We file into dark rooms with audio of rare interviews playing from hidden speakers, plus snippets of early demos, live recordings and his most notable hits all helping to paint an aural history, as well as a literal one. We fawn over illuminated glass cabinets like we are studying the ancient relics from a forgotten tomb, and read scrawled letters like sacred texts. Every seemingly innocuous item takes on a special significance: his third grade report card, a pair of his dad's trousers, a travel Monopoly set. It is the glaring ordinariness of these humble items which make the ostentatious stuff even more dramatic: his 1956 Lincoln Continental, the golf buggies he used on the grounds of Graceland, kitsch gold telephones and tiger statues, and the Vegas costumes in all their gleaming, rhinestone-encrusted, figure-hugging glory. (It is worth stopping to note here just how tall Elvis was: over six foot with wide shoes. He must have been an imposing presence.)

I personally liked some of the smaller items which offer a brief glimpse into his character. He spent money wildly on a mishmash of passions and hobbies. In the cabinet displaying his Karate suits, there is a handwritten synopsis for a martial arts movie concept called The New Gladiators. It was never made, but maybe Tarantino should have a stab at it. There are pages of a note requesting a meeting with Richard Nixon, written in a turbulent scrawl on letter-headed paper from American Airlines. There is also a note he wrote to The Beatles via Ed Sullivan congratulating them on their first US tour.

The popularity of the exhibition seems to suggest that the Elvis story is still just as relevant today as it has ever been. He remains a hugely crucial figure in popular culture, which is not something you can level at many 80 year olds. Perhaps this was due to his huge appeal as a performer. He affected all streams of society from the disenfranchised youth of the 1950s to the bible-brandishing heart of conservative America.

But Elvis was always quite unassuming about the weight of change he spearheaded. He never seemingly shook off the simplicity of his rural upbringing, where he would develop his passion for singing in the poor black churches of Tupelo, and record his first songs as a gift to his mother. There is strong evidence to suggest that if Elvis hadn't become such a global commodity before the age of 21, he may well have considered a full-time career in the military. For a young boy in his position, it was an obvious and not uncommon path to choose. And he was valued. When he left West Germany after two years, he had been promoted to the rank of sergeant.

Perhaps it doesn't matter anyway, as his legacy was probably assured even by then. Whether another pop figure will ever emerge to match the seismic influence of Elvis Presley remains to be seen (Harry Styles, anyone?). But I think it highly unlikely, and this may be the very reason the fascination persists and we keep coming back for more. Oh, and that voice, of course, which remains absolutely timeless.

Elvis at the O2 runs until 31 August 2015.