Early image transmission – Caselli’s “pantelegraph”

Figure 1 - Caselli's "Pantelegraph" from the German wikipidia and in the public domain. erman Wikipidia, original source: Die gesammten Naturwissenschaften, Dritte Auflage, In drei Bänden, Erster Band, Druck und Verlag von G. D. Bädeker, 1873, Seite 855 unten, Bild

Figure 1 – Caselli’s “Pantelegraph” from the German wikipidia and in the public domain. erman Wikipidia, original source: Die gesammten Naturwissenschaften, Dritte Auflage, In drei Bänden, Erster Band, Druck und Verlag von G. D. Bädeker, 1873, Seite 855 unten, Bild

My reason for discussing analogue vs. digital signals was to put us in a position to explore the early methods for transmitting images across telegraph and telephone lines. All of these early processes were analogue in nature. This means that a voltage is created at the transmitting side and this voltage is converted back on the receiving side to intensity on a surface.  Indeed, it is always a two sided process.  There has to be a means, on the transmitting side, to convert the intensity on the paper to a voltage and, on the receiving side, back to an intensity.

In addition, while the processes of telegraphy and telephony are intrinsically linear – a series of dots and dashes as a function of time or the voice translated to voltage as a function of time, images are intrinsically two dimensional.  Therefore, there needs to be an intrinsic scanning element at both ends, so that the two dimensional image can be properly translated.

The first, system for transmitting images was developed by Giovanni Caselli (1815-1891) in the mid 1850’s.  His “pantelegraph” was demonstrated by no less than French physicist Alexandre-Edmond Becquerel (1820-1891) to the French Academy of Sciences in 1858 (the year of the first transatlantic cable).  The “pantelegraph” is, arguably, more of a facsimile (FAX) machine than an image transmitter.  It copied small handwritten documents (111 mm x 27 mm) of up to 25 words, which it could do in 108 seconds.  For the most part it was used to transmit signatures and, therefore, to verify checks.  Never-the-less the concept of image transmission was born with the “pantelegraph.”

Figure 2 - an example of a Casellli "pantelegram," from the Wikimediacommons and in the public domain.

Figure 2 – an example of a Caselli “pantelegram,” from the Wikimediacommons and in the public domain.

The signature or other writing was drawn on a metal plate with insulating ink.  A pendulum driven scanner scanned an electrode or stylus across the plate and the current between the plate and the stylus was measured.  Wherever there was writing the current would drop.  This was converted to a voltage that was transmitted across the telegraph line.  On the receiving side, paper impregnated with potassium ferricyanide was used.  The process was reversed.  Whenever current flowed across the paper the potassium ferricyanide would darken.

In November of 1860, Caselli demonstrated the “pantelegraph” along a special line between Paris and Amiens.  Caselli successfully transmitted the signature of opera composer Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868) over the 140 km distance. The first “pantelogram was subsequently transmitted from Lyons to Paris on February 10, 1862.

One sees in this the absolute brilliance and creativity of nineteenth century engineers and scientists.  They dwelt in an analogue world, and it presented no limitations.

* I want to thank a Facebook reader for making me aware of Caselli’s “pantelegraph.”  I was going to start with photograph.  But this is an important part of the story.

 

New at Hati and Skoll Gallery

I wanted to thank everyone for their continued support of the Hati and Skoll website and Gallery.  Our readership is continuing to grow rapidly and that is very gratifying.  Plus I am enjoying everyone’s thoughts and comments coming in on the blog, in person, directly by email, and through Facebook.

I have made a few changes to the site and wanted to bring everyone up-to-date about these.  First, the snow pictures previously in the “New Gallery” have been moved into an appropriately named new “Snow Gallery.”  While we are all wishing good riddance to winter, it is a fact of life that snow in all its beauty will return to New England.  It is a recurring theme.  Second, I have placed the images that I took in Vermont this May in the “New Gallery.”  Please visit it and let me know what you think.  Many of these photographs I have not published before.

I have been hard at work digitizing and processing many of the color transparencies that I took between 1968 and 2002.  This has been arduous work but a lot of fun, quite literally like seeing old friends again.  I anticipate putting some of these images up on the site and will let you know when I do.

Thanks again to everyone.

David

Analogue vs. digital

First Telegraph Message sent between Washington, DC and Baltimore, MD in 1844 by Samuel Morse.  From the Wikimediacommons and in the public domain.

First Telegraph Message sent between Washington, DC and Baltimore, MD on May 24, 1844 by Samuel Morse. “What hath God wrought?” From the Wikimediacommons and in the public domain.

If you have a picture that you want to transmit to another place, computer, or person you’ve got to decide whether you want to do that in an analogue or a digital mode.  More accurately the nature of the communication system tends to dictate the mode.  So it is useful to consider what we mean by these two terms.

Suppose that you have a signal like a voltage.  Let’s say it’s between 0 and 1 Volt.  if analogue, this voltage can take on any value between 0 and 1.  A digital voltage is broken down into a set of discrete values.  This might be in steps of 0.01 V or some other division, like some power of two.  For instance, when we talk about the intensity level of a pixel for a digital camera, this is a discrete digital number.

Most electronic devices today move back and forth between the analogue and digital world.  If you remember our discussion of how a CCD camera works, we spoke about the fact that each pixel adds up light induced electrons to create a voltage.  When the chip is read that voltage passes through an analogue to digital converter, that converts the voltage to a discrete digitized signal.  Today once you’re digital, you tend to stay digital.  The numbers are handled digitally in your computer, by your image processing software, and then displayed digitally.  In the age of say television with so called cathode ray tubes, everything stayed analogue.

This is the basics of the analogue vs. digital world,  But if you really think about the case of our CCD pixel, it never was really analogue.  The voltage was really a discrete number of electrons.  It was really digital to begin with. In fact most physical signals are based upon inherently discrete processes.

The simplest digital system is the two state or binary system.  The state is on or off zero or one.  That’s how our modern computers work, ultimately in binary.  Multiple zero or one bits are required to express a given number.  For instance, the number 13 is 1 times 8 (or 2^3) plus 1 times four (or 2^2) plus 0 times two (or 2^1) plus 1 times one (or 2^0).  This is usually written as 1101 in so-called binary. This binary number has a eights column, a fours column, a twos column, and a ones column.  This is just like our usual tens power counting system has a hundreds, a tens, and a ones column. So the number 13 in a base ten system is 1 times ten plus 3 times one, or 13.

There are other digital systems.  If you think about our English alphabet, there are 26 letters.  So any word can be expressed by a string of these 26 values.  If you’ve heard about quantum computing that intrinsically is a base four system where any number can be expressed as a series of numbers or columns, where each value is 0,1,2 or 3.

Morse code is very interesting.  Remember telegraphy was the first data transmission system; so you would have thought that it would be analogue.  But, when Morse developed his code.  He expressed everything as dots and dashes.  He used time or duration as a second dimension.  So at any point the signal is either off, on for a short while, or on for a long while.  In a sense this is equivalent to a three state system, where everything is a string of 0’s, 1’s, and 2’s.  All of this can be very clearly seen in the world’s first telegram send by Samuel F. B. Morse between Washington, DC and Baltimore, MD on May 24, 1844, “What hath God wrought?”  If you blow the image up you can clearly see the dots, dashes, and empty spaces recorded on the paper strip as well as Morse’s translation of it below.  The world’s first internet, the telegraphy network, was a digital one.

The birth of the internet

Figure 1 - The ship that lay the 1866 transatlantic cable, The Great Eastern, at Hearts Content. From the Wikicommons and in the public domain.

Figure 1 – The ship that lay the 1866 transatlantic cable, The Great Eastern, at Hearts Content. From the Wikicommons and in the public domain.

We talk about the internet as a new invention, something born of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.  However, if you think about it and the recognize that the essence of the the internet is not in the computer but is its role as a communications network, joining people on a world-wide web or net, the name of Samuel F. B. Morse (1791-1872), artist and daguerreotypist, immediately arises as the true inventor.

Samuel Morse, invented the telegraph and the Morse code.  On May 24, 1844 along a cable strung between Washington, DC and Baltimore, MD, Morse sent the message: “WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT.”  The internet was born.

The dream of connecting the United States and Europe evolved between 1854 and 1866 with the laying of the first transatlantic cable by Cyrus West Field and the American Telegraph Company.  On August 16, 1858, the first message was sent from the United States on behalf of President James Buchanan: “GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST; ON EARTH, PEACE AND GOODWILL TOWARD MEN.” The rate of transmission was painful (2 min. per character or 0.1 words per min.).  Queen Victoria’s letter congratulations back to President Buchanan took sixteen hours to transmit.

The original cable deteriorated extremely rapidly.  Speed of transmission became slower and slower.  Three weeks after the first transmission engineer Widman Whithouse attempted to increase transmission speed by increasing the signal voltage and blow the cable out.  Investor enthusiasm plummeted, and it took another eight years to successfully lay a new cable and restore the system.  This new cable proved long-lasting and, perhaps of equal significance, in the intervening time overland cables had been laid in both Europe and the United States.  Indeed the transcontinental cable in the United States, which united the east and west coasts on October 24, 1861, made the legendery Pony Express obsolete, and it shut down the next day.  With the completion of the transatlantic cable, Europe and the United States were interconnected with what was truly the first internet.

The effect was transformative.  Even with steam ships it took two to three weeks to transmit information by letter between New York and the European capitals.  With the transatlantic cable this communications time was reduced to three minutes.  That’s over ten thousand fold!

The first internet was the wired telegraph.  This followed by wireless telegraphy, wired telephony, and radio. I leave television out, because television largely functioned one way.   Finally we have our current internet, which took the concept to a whole new level by uniting computers or central processing units.  The internet became more than a way of rapid communication, but became a place to store, access, and disseminate information (real, false, and imagined). We have spoken previously about the first image on the modern internet, the image of “Les Horribles Cernettes,”.  But before that came the first transmission of images over telegraph and telephone lines.  How this was done and indeed the underlying nature of transmitting this kind of information is a fascinating one that we we will take up next.

 

Samuel F. B. Morse, Louis Daguerre, and the birth of photography

Figure 1 - Daguerreotype of Samuel Finlay Breeze Morse, artist, inventor, photographer, 1845.  From the library of Congress and in the public domain.

Figure 1 – Daguerreotype of Samuel Finlay Breeze Morse, artist, inventor, photographer, 1845. From the library of Congress and in the public domain.

I have spoken before about S. F. B. Morse (1791-1872), his introduction of the daguerreotype to American, and the birth of the modern world.  I have been reading David McCullough‘s interesting history of nineteenth Americans and their physical and intellectual journeys to France, “The Greater Journey, Americans in Paris.”  McCullough quotes Morse’s letter to his brothers describing the moment in which he first sees Daguerre’s invention.  I thought that I would share it with you.

“They are produced on a metallic silver-coated [copper] surface, the principal pieces about 7 inches by 5 [inches], and they resemble aquatint engravings, for they are simple chiaroscuro, and not in colors.  But the exquisite minuteness of the delineation cannot be conceived.  No painting or engraving ever approached it.  For example: In a view up the street, a distant sign would be perceived, and the eye could just discern that there are letters upon it, but so minute as not to be read with the naked eye.  By the assistance of a powerful lens, which magnified fifty times, applied to the delineation, every letter was clearly and distinctly legible, and so also were the minutest breaks and lines in the walls of buildings and the pavements of the streets.  The effect of the lens upon the picture was in a great degree like that of a telescope in nature.”

We read in this the encounter of the nineteenth century intellect with the new world that photography represented.  This was truly a seminal moment, and the beginning of a new world perspective.  Truly the dawn of the modern.

Of a moment’s light, Cartier Bresson, and Giorgione’s “The Tempest”

“Photography is not like painting. There is a creative fraction of a second when you are taking a picture.  Your eye must see a composition or an expression that life itself offers you, and you must know with intuition when to click the camera. That is the moment the photographer is creative. Oop! The Moment! Once you miss it, it is gone forever.”

Henri Cartier-Besson (1908-2004)

It was in this way that Henri Cartier-Bresson described capturing the decisive moment in photography.  And we have all been brought up on the myth of Ansel Adams’ “Moonrise Hernandez, NM, 1941”  Actually, I like Adams’ description of that creative moment, of how he almost bungled the whole scene.  I like it because I can relate to it.  More often than not, I do something wrong.  Nowadays, it’s more often than not that I’ve got the camera on power-save off.

Still using a camera has certainly gotten a lot easier.  In the “good?” old days, I used to go out and assess the light, set my camera to a likely exposure and set my focus to an appropriate likely depth-of-field range.  Today you might not even know what I am talking about.  Still I was ready – ready to bungle it all again!

But of course, what you remember best are not your mistakes but your successes.  It was the summer of 1970 and I happened to be standing on a bridge over a canal in Amsterdam, NL.  My Leica M3 was in my supposed preordained state of readiness.  In an instant, and for an instant, I was transported into the threatening, inky-blue, vaporous light of Giorgione’s “The Tempest, 1508.”  I had time for a single exposure.  It was the greatest success of my analogue days.

Figure 1 - Amsterdam, 1970, digitized from an Ektachrome transparency. (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 1 – Amsterdam, 1970, digitized from an Ektachrome transparency. (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Death and resurrection in marble

Figure 1 Death, Delwood Cemetery, Manchester, VT, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 1 – Death, Delwood Cemetery, Manchester, VT, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

The other side to Vermont marble is the magnificent monuments carved in it.  In the old cemeteries of Vermont and New Hampshire you see the great skill of New England sculptors.  It was for that reason that I was enticed to explore Manchester Vermont’s Delwood Cemetery, whose entrance is just adjacent to the entrance to Hildene House, the summer home of Robert Todd Lincoln.

Ponder the meaning of a cemetery.  Its essential message is dependent upon the religion  that dominates. If it is a Christian cemetery the essential message is one of death and resurrection.  You see a multitude of epitaphs affirming this poignant message.  However, at Delwood I saw something that I thought was truly amazing, the expression of this sentiment strictly in image, an image carved in marble.  It is  part of a plot that is adorned by a wonderful angel carved in the classical style in marble by contemporary artist Fred X. Brownstein. On either side of the angel and close to the ground are two friezes carved in high relief.  One shows great looming clouds and the second a curtain of light rays emerging from the clouds.  I have taken closeups of these two tablets and reinterpreted them as Figure 1 and 2, which I call “Death” and Resurrection.”

Unusual for me is the use a blue tone.  In analogue photography this would have been done with an iron salt.  I experimented with many tonal variants, but concluded that this was just right for emphasizing the emerging light.

I think that there is a tremendous level of understanding and creativity associated with capsulizing the quintessential message of the cemetery in stone without words.  It is a tribute to the power of image as meme.  I think also that the choice of the clouds and the light is all the more powerful because in this Vermont valley, dense clouds hanging over and between the mountains is all around you as are the sudden ephemeral tricks of emergent light.

Figure 2 - Resurrection, Delwood Cemetery, Manchester, VT. (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 2 – Resurrection, Delwood Cemetery, Manchester, VT. (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Dorset Quarry

Figure 1 - View of the Dorset Quarry, Dorset, VT (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 1 – View of the Dorset Quarry, Dorset, VT (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Vermont is marble!  Indeed the old part of Manchester Village, opposite the Equinox Resort, is actually paved with marble blocks.  So on my recent trip to Vermont, I had one destination in mind, ahead of time, and that was the Dorset Quarry in Dorset, Vermont.  I had been there before and knew that it was an ideal location for the kind of geometric images that I love.

Dorset Quarry was the first commercial marble quarry in the United States.  It was opened in South Dorset by Isaac Underhill in 1785 and continued to produce marble for the next 130 years.  There were ultimately at least  two dozen quarries located on Mts.  Dorset Mountain and Aeolus. Dorset marble was widely used for headstones, hearths, and mantels as well as for sculpture.  This marble was used for several major architectural masterpieces including:the New York Public Library, the library of Brown University, and Memorial Continental Hall of the Daughters of the American Revolution in Washington, D.C. as well several of the stately mansions on Fifth Avenue in New York City.Figure 1 is just a snapshot to give you a sense of the location.

It is the usual black as night water filled town swimming holes.  It conjures up nightmares of accidental drowning deaths.  However, I am assured that the actual safety record of the quarry is much better and that there have not been any fatal incidents at the Dorset Quarry.  Still it seems the perfect setting for a Stephen King novel or M. Night Shyamalan movie.

There are huge blocks of graffiti covered quarried marble blocks which decorate the site.  These form abstract designs ideal for photography.  I have several successful photographs from this trip, which I will publish over the next few weeks.  Figure 2 is an example.   I find that the man-made bore holes enhance the majesty of the marble.  Marble is an interesting substance to photograph.  It comes in many varieties.  Dorset marble is know for its blueness.  However, a given image seems to call out fro its own intrinsic toning.  I have chosen a cold blueish tone for Figure 1 but a warmer sepia tone for Figure 2.

Figure 2 - Dorset Quarry #1 Dorsert, VT, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 2 – Dorset Quarry #1, Dorset, VT, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Vermont Color

Figure 1 - Tree, Norwich, VT, (c) DE Wolf 2013

Figure 1 – Tree, Norwich, VT, (c) DE Wolf 2013

We have been taking a short vacation to Manchester, Vermont – which is a very beautiful valley set in the Green Mountains.  Reminiscent of our vacation last year to Maine, the beautiful weather ended the day we left – but sunshine is where you make it. So once again it was time to be creative with my camera and to continue to learn about the subjects that I like to photograph.

Vermont is, of course famous for its fall colors.  But spring too has its own magnificent shades, starting with the perfect chartreuse  greens of the newly born spring leaves, emergent everywhere.  The flowering trees are magnificent, and even the lilacs are starting to come out in abundance.

On the way up, we stopped first in Norwich at the King Arthur Flour Bakery and Bakery School Campus.  I saw a trail that led into a pine forest and couldn’t resist.  The colors inside were very subtle shades of reddish brown.  A golden retriever greeted me, anxious to be my friend  and play.  The forest went through a wetland, and a little flat board bridge took me across a bog, where I found the remains of an old tree, covered in moss, and still raising what was left of its branches in a mock spooky greeting.  I paused to photograph it using my monopod and experimented a bit to determine whether augmenting the subdued light with flash would improve the scene.  In the end, I settled on the subtlety of the natural light.

Figure 2 - Vermont Flannel, Woodstock, VT, (c) 2013 DE Wolf.

Figure 2 – Vermont Flannel, Woodstock, VT, (c) 2013 DE Wolf.

From Norwich we drove to historic Woodstock, where we discovered, or rediscovered, the brilliant color of Vermont Flannel.  This little narrow shop is  a Vermont mainstay.  It is famous for the three children (manikins) that sit outside, dressed in colorful flannel regardless of the weather, and is stuffed with brightly colored reminders that winter is never far behind in this part of New England. I had trouble framing pictures because the shop was so long and narrow, but did manage a few images that I liked in the end.  Picking up on the same theme, we stopped later in the day at the Vermont Country Store in Weston, VT where I found a pair of women’s rain boots that matched the enthusiasm of all the flannel.  So despite the rain I marked it up as a very colorful day in the end.

Figure 3 - Boots at the Vermont Country Sore. (c) 2013 DE Wolf.

Figure 3 – Boots at the Vermont Country Sore. (c) 2013 DE Wolf.