A significant aspect of scientific expeditions is visually documenting

a location, people, or specimens. Here in the archive, it is our job

to preserve these images. While these days most scientists and

photographers are using digital cameras, which present their own

preservation issues, our earlier manuscript collections contain

physical photographs and film negatives. There are three types of film

base: cellulose nitrate, cellulose acetate, and polyester. Both

nitrate and acetate can break down over time and the fumes they

release can harm the collections around them. In fact, nitrate film,

first manufactured by Eastman Kodak in 1889 and continued to be made until

the early 1950s, is highly flammable. Nitrate film can be difficult to identify from

other film bases unless it is seriously deteriorated or clearly marked. The North East

Document Conservation Center has a wonderful preservation leaflet

about how to identify nitrate film and how to test if your film is

nitrate.

We didn't need to test this negative because it is marked "Eastman - Nitrate - Kodak" on the left edge.

So, what can we do to capture the images on nitrate negatives and

still protect our other materials from fumes and possible fire? We are

in the process of a nitrate separation, digitization, and storage

project. As we find nitrate negatives, we digitize them by making a

high resolution Tiff image. This is our archival master image. The

negative is then placed in a paper enclosure and labeled in pencil. A

large group of negatives is put in an archival box, heat sealed in a

Marvelseal wrapper (to prevent moisture from getting in) and then

placed in a ziptop plastic bag. The bag is placed in our flammable material

storage freezer and kept at -20 degrees centigrade. This helps preserve

the image on the negative and protects our other collections from fumes

that nitrate generates as it degrades. So far, there are approximately

6,000 frozen negatives in our freezer and we have another 800

negatives to add to the freezer as part of our most recent project.

The images below are nitrate negatives that have been digitized in the

last year.

Gustav Eisen negative labeled "Election of Pope Benedict XIV 1914". Thanks to a comment from J.S. Oishi we know that election was actually of Pope Benedict XV.

Ynes Mexia negative of "Lake Mirror. Dawn." Yosemite National Park, 1921.

Danielle Castronovo - Archives and Digital Collections Librarian

Does this tarantula fulfill the definition of creepy – ‘experiencing a repugnant tingling sensation’? Or an aesthetic delight?

Entomology - Genus Aranea

These magnificent engravings of spiders come from Natural History volume five in the Cyclopaedia or Universal Dictionary of Arts, Science and Literature.  Abraham Rees, Presbyterian minister and educator, produced this Encyclopedia in 45 volumes between 1802 and 1820.  On the title page of the Cyclopaedia, Rees’ 100 contributors are qualified with the “assistance from eminent professional gentlemen” and “illustrated by most distinguished artists”.

18th Century ‘encyclopedists’ developed the modern idea of recording and widely distributing knowledge as distinct from only publishing facts. The still familiar Encyclopedia Britannica was first published between 1768 and 1771.

Rees’ Cyclopedia was noted for its high quality of illustrations. And we can still enjoy the beauty of nature through these 19th century engravings … creep-ing spiders or … beetles.

Entomology - Genus Goliathus

Karren Elsbernd - Library Assistant for Archives and Digital Collections

Open Access Week has officially come & gone, but that doesn’t mean we should stop thinking about Open Access!

Our very own Science in Action crew at the Academy are keeping OA Week going with a new edition of SIA about Open Access, the Public Library of Science (PLoS), and Breast Cancer Action.

Check out the newest installment of Science in Action, in which I share but one opinion on the value of PLoS and OA.

If you like this piece, be sure to visit Science in Action to learn more.

In case you’ve been wondering what we’re up to:

This coming week is Open Access Week!  October 19-23 2009 is a week to bring awareness to, and to talk about, the Open Access movement.

Do you think scholarly literature should be available online for free?  If you answered yes (or no), this week is a great time to educate yourself and others about Open Access!  Visit the Open Access Week website for more information.

This week the Academy Library is also hosting and participating in meetings with some of our partners in the Biodiversity Heritage Library here in San Francisco.  This is a nice fit with Open Access Week, since the BHL is working to digitize the published literature of biodiversity and make it available online free of charge.  There are over 15,000 titles accessible through the BHL portal, with more coming in every day.

If you’re curious about what keeps us busy here in the Library, you should follow me on Twitter.  I’ll keep you in the loop.

Last Friday night, the Academy celebrated one year in its new building with the Big Bang Gala. The Library and Archive staff was on hand, and we set up a table to display highlights from the 1932 C. Templeton Crocker Expedition of the California Academy of Sciences to Mexico and the Galapagos.

Getting fresh water, Tagus Cove. Zaca in the background.

Charles Templeton Crocker (1884-1948) a self proclaimed explorer, sailed his yacht the Zaca around the world, covering 27, 152 miles and visiting 50 ports. He made an expedition to the Galapagos Islands for the California Academy of Sciences (March 1932 – September 1932). A 2,690 foot mountain on Indefatigable Island was named Mount Crocker in honor of his conquest of that peak. Later expeditions included Honolulu, Hawaii with the Bishop Museum (1933), Easter Island for the American Museum of Natural History (1934), Gulf of California for the New York Zoological Society (1936), Hawaii, Tongareva and Samoa for American Museum of Natural History (1936-1937). Crocker received the Ribbon of the Legion of Honor (France, 1926) for his opera “Fei-Yen-Fah”, an adaptation of a play he had written, “Land of Happiness”. He also authored The Cruise of the Zaca in 1933.

Crocker and H. Walton Clark inspecting specimens

Toshio Asaeda worked for Templeton Crocker as a photographer and artist from 1932-1938. On the 1932 expedition, Asaeda painted over three hundred water colors of fishes, crabs and marine life (featured below) and took over 1400 photographs. While Asaeda’s illustrations are beautiful works of art they are also significant scientific documents.  Asaeda captured the natural color of the animals by painting them right after they were pulled from the water. In a time before color photography was a practical endeavor, this was the best way to capture the actual coloration of specimens. Once animals are preserved in alcohol or formalin their natural color fades and although dark markings like spots and stripes can remain, scientific illustrations are the main document of these animals’ colors in the wild.

Brachyura (true crabs). A. Xanthidae; cf. Panopeus sp. from Magalena Bay, Mexico collected August 10, 1932. B. Mursia gaudichaudii (valid name Platymera gaudichaudii H. Milne Edwards, 1837). Collected August 19, 1932 San Martin Island, Mexico.

Toshio Asaeda (1893-1968) came to the United States from Tokyo as a student. In 1924, Asaeda accepted a job at the James L. Clark Studios in New York. Clark was in charge of taxidermy and exhibit preparation for the American Museum of Natural History. From 1925 to 1927, Asaeda lived in San Francisco; it was during this time that he began his forty-year relationship with the California Academy of Sciences. His initial position was as an artist for the Ichthyology Department.

In 1940, Asaeda opened his own photography studio on Grant Avenue in downtown San Francisco. This business venture ended in 1942, when Asaeda and his wife, Suzuka, were sent to an internment camp in Topaz, Utah. At the internment camp, Asaeda taught United States geography and stone polishing to adult internees.

After the war and his release from internment, Asaeda took a job preparing, drawing, and photographing fossils at the California Institute of Technology in Pasadena, California. In 1949, Asaeda accepted a position at the Academy as Assistant Curator in the Department of Exhibits, a job which allowed him to use his considerable artistic and technical skills. Asaeda retired in 1965 to begin work on his garden. He died on March 18, 1968.

Additional Asaeda watercolors are featured in the Academy’s Islands of Evolution exhibit on the main floor.

Carides; Crago sp. (shrimp). Collected Cedros Island, Mexico on August 18, 1932. 8" x 10" plate.

Nexilosus albermarleus (Damselfish) Tagus Cove, Albermarle Island, Galapagos. Collected May 26, 1932. Valid name Nexilosus latifrons (Tschudi, 1846).

- Danielle Castronovo, Archives and Digital Collections Librarian

* Crocker and Asaeda’s biographical information was taken from departmental finding aids.

* Dave Catania from Ichthyology supplied information on specimen preparation.

Welcome to the second installment of the From the Stacks video blog!

Tune in to this episode to learn about the fascinating, turbulent life of John James Audubon, as well as more about his great book.

 

 Podcast Video: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Here’s something new for “From the Stacks”…

Consider this your introduction to your Friendly Neighborhood Science Librarian, and Her Favorite Giant Book.

 

 Introduction to Audobon: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Back-to-School has arrived on the calendar for the children of San Francisco and one of the men they – and I am sure their parents - can thank for that privilege was one of the seven founding fathers of the California Academy of Sciences. He was Colonel Thomas J. Nevins, the first Superintendent of Schools for San Francisco.

Thomas Nevins arrived during the Gold Rush in 1850 from New Hampshire and, as a lawyer, he drafted the first public school law for the growing city of San Francisco.
In 1851 he was hired to serve as the first Superintendent of the Free Common [public] Schools. In that year, the city had levied taxes to maintain seven school districts.

After their first meeting in April of 1853, the then California Academy of Natural Sciences members met in the office of Colonel Nevins at 622 Clay Street. Here they kept their library and their expanding ‘cabinet of specimens’. Every Monday evening by the light of tallow candles, the members read and discussed their scientific papers.

Dedicated to this infant organization, Nevins took on the role of Treasurer, the Second Vice Presidency, and the Librarian, as well as being a member of the Publication and Proceedings Committees. He was also on the committee that drafted our constitution. Later he would be made the Recording Secretary and be honored as a life member.

At the time of these first meetings of the Academy, Nevins was also actively advocating for the addition of a high school into the common school’s system. After three years, he convinced the city to establish this school. [This first high school west of the Mississippi was originally located on Powell Street and is the predecessor of today’s Lowell High School.]

While planning the new Academy after its destruction in the Earthquake of 1906, the Director, Barton W. Evermann, also actively advocated for a place for youth education in the planning for the new museum. In the revised Constitution of 1930, high school students could become active members of the Academy. [Membership at that time was an elected privilege.] The Student Section was very active in the 1940’s when teachers were hired and field trips were taken. They had their own meeting room where they could hear lectures and participate in discussions. And as scientist-in-training, they also published their own research in a newsletter.

Each Education Department program since the years of the Student Section, every Bay Area classroom field trip to our museum, and today’s Naturalist Center programs, all continue these early commitments to education by Nevins and Evermann.

Karren Elsbernd - Library Assistant for Archives and Digital Collections

Jenny Haniver and I just met. I was vaguely aware of her existence, but I’d never made her acquaintance. Like so much in my life, I found her through books. I first heard of her via an obtuse reference in a French work on fish from 1551. We were formally introduced in the pages of a rather spectacular and unusual 17th century text, Serpentum et Draconum Historiae Libri Duo.  Ever since Jenny and I met, I seem to be seeing her everywhere.  Maybe she was around before, but I just wasn’t aware, or maybe she’s following me.  Anyway, you’re probably wondering who this Jenny Haniver character is, yes?

“Draco alter ex Raia exsiccata concinnatus” by Ulisse Aldrovandi. Serpentum et Draconum Historiae Libri Duo. California Academy of Sciences Library, Rare Books QL666.O6 A42 1640

Maybe not who (or what) you were expecting?  Meet an early depiction of what is known as a Jenny Haniver: a ray or skate that has been cut and shaped by hand, and then dried in order to fabricate another creature altogether.  They make several appearances in natural history texts from the 16th and 17th centuries; indeed, they appear in some of the earliest zoology books.  I first saw this plate several years ago, when I was looking through some early herpetology publications; Ulisse Aldrovandi’s  Serpentum et Draconum…, published posthumously in 1640, is one of the older ones in the Academy Library collections.  It’s a fascinating work, filled with descriptions and illustrations of various snakes, as well as crowned serpents, winged dragons, and…that thing up there.  I didn’t think much of this particular plate, figuring that it depicted yet another imaginary beast.

I returned to Aldrovandi after reading Pierre Belon’s L’Histoire Naturelle des Estranges Poissons Marins, avec la Vraie Peincture & Description du Daulphin, & de Plusieurs Autres de Son Espece, a work in which Belon comments on the practice of fashioning flying serpents and dragons out of rays.  The next time I pulled the Aldrovandi, I saw the notation on the plate pictured above, which begins “Draco alter ex Raia” which tipped me off that Aldrovandi knew this specimen was a “dragon” crafted out of a dead ray. (Incidentally, I stumbled upon Belon’s reference while writing about his work for the Biodiversity Heritage Library blog, where I am now a regular contributor: click here to read my musings on Belon for the BHL).

When I initially encountered Serpentum et Draconum… I was confused.  Aldrovandi is known today as one of the first natural historians to stress the importance of direct observation and accurate illustration in scientific texts (rather than relying solely on hearsay and the work of others who came before).  He was a scholar intent on seeing first-hand as many specimens as possible, dedicated to creating detailed, anatomically-correct illustrations to illuminate his descriptions.  As we can see, he had no trouble revealing a hoax or a fraud when he saw one.  Yet the same work that reveals this fraud is also full of winged dragons and many-headed hydras.

Of course, it is important to remember that while Aldrovandi did travel, he could not go everywhere.  In addition to specimens, he collected illustrations and paintings, which he used to formulate his descriptions and in his teaching.  Some of his specimens were mere fragments, such as bones, horns, skins, and feathers.  It is not too difficult to imagine how certain specimens, along with the descriptions of predecessors, could have led Aldrovandi to include these dragons alongside animals he had seen with his own eyes.  I’ve been batting this around a lot for the last week or so, this interesting book so full of contradictions, a mix of closely observed first-hand accounts, known fakes, and fantastic mythical figures.  It’s enough to make me work on my Latin.

Incidentally, the name “Jenny Haniver” is a puzzle all its own.  No one knows exactly when the term came into use, or what it’s supposed to mean.  The closest to an accepted explanation is that Jenny Haniver is actually “Jeune d’Anvers,” or “young girl from Antwerp” in French. Some speculate that the practice originated in Antwerp, and since some Jenny Hanivers are crafted to look more human than beastly, it’s a plausible theory. Here’s a photograph of a Jenny Haniver from the Canadian Museum of Nature that has more of a human appearance than Aldrovandi’s.

Want to learn more about Aldrovandi and Belon? Interested in the fascinating literature of natural history? As always, the Academy Library is open for your research needs by appointment, and we’re here to answer your questions. Just send us an email, give us a call at (415) 379-5484, or Chat with a Librarian.

We’ve turned the page!

Drop by the Library Reading Room to see a new page of the Audubon Double Elephant Folio on display for your viewing pleasure.

This month’s choice is the American Crow, Corvus brachyrhynchos (Corvus americanus in Audubon).

“American Crow” by John James Audubon. Birds of America: From Drawings Made in the United States and Their Territories (Octavo Ed. 1870). California Academy of Sciences Library, Rare Books QL674 .A9 1870.

We are showing off this particular plate to complement a recent post on the Academy’s Science in Action blog about our increasing understanding of the intelligence of crows and other corvids. Audubon wrote fondly of the crow, praising its intelligence, its bravery, and its devotion to its young.  He chastises those who poison or shoot crows in an effort to protect crops in the field, writing in the Ornithological Biography, “I cannot but wish that they would reflect a little, and become more indulgent toward our poor, humble, harmless, and even most serviceable bird, the Crow.”

The American Crow will be on display until September 8.  If you are visiting the Academy and would like to see it, email library@calacademy.org for an appointment.