Sharktivity

Figure 1 - Great White Shark. Image by Terry Goss and licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

Figure 1 – Great White Shark. Image by Terry Goss and licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

Let me start with Figure 1. This is a stunning image of a Great white shark taken off Isla Guadalupe, Mexico on August 2006 by Terry Goss. It was shot with a Nikon D70 in an Ikelite housing under natural light. The shark is estimated to be 11-12 feet (3.3 to 3.6 m) in length. Beautiful picture, yes? And there are a couple of points. First, humans live in a largely two-dimensional world. As a result, and second, when we enter the water we are giving up a certain amount of control, where we are not necessarily on the top of the food chain.

This takes me to what is referred to as “Chrissie’s last swim” from Steven Spielberg’s 1975 thriller “Jaws.” Chrissie has been a bad girl, well not really just livin’ the dream of Girls Just Want to have Fun, and is just a bit intoxicated, when she goes for her last swim. I’ve included a link here to the film clip, just to remind everyone of the absolutely visceral terror that the scene evokes. It is a cinematographic masterpiece. The scene is dark and grainy. You struggle to make out what is going on. And, of course, as is standard early in great horror movies, you don’t actually see the monster shark. You just hear Chrissie’s screams for help and her periodic violent disappearances beneath the surface.

Well, imagine that we fast forward forty one years. Chrissie is still running towards the water and shedding her clothes. But in a moment of lucidity and caution she pulls out her cell phone to check the Shark App to determine if there are any dangerous sharks in the area. “Danger, Will Robinson, danger!”

Well that little bit of fantasy has taken one step closer to reality. The Atlantic White Shark Conservancy in collaboration with the Massachusetts Division of Marine Fisheries, the Cape Cod National Seashore, and officials of Cape Cod and South Shore Towns has recently released “Sharktivity.” You can report shark sightings, follow shark activity, and receive shark alerts, as in “Stay out of the Water, Folks.”  This app is modeled after Uber, which certainly creates the image of “Hello, this is your Great White tag CC2015GW16. I will be arriving to eat you in approximately 5 minutes. Please confirm your location.” And then you get to see a little map with a pin at your location and observe a little shark icon moving ominously towards you. Dah dumph.

I’ve actually loaded this on my IPhone ,and it is, for the present, a bit sparse. But, and here, is the really important point, it is representative a form of international connectivity that is not usually discussed. Connectivity is much more than a modern-day Chrissie sharing her selfie with friends on Facebook. It is the sharing of scientific and scholarly information. Hmm, isn’t that what the internet was originally created for? There is a mass of geophysical and other data basically open and free on the internet, and scientists and scholars everywhere are free to use and analyze it.  Apps such as Sharktivity are meant to promote connectivity to nature, much like eagle- and panda-cams. They are meant to connect us, as we were born to be, to our planet and to nature.

With Juno at the juncture of reality and the imagination

Figure 1 - Astronomers are using NASA's Hubble Space Telescope to study auroras — stunning light shows in a planet's atmosphere — on the poles of the largest planet in the solar system, Jupiter. Credits: NASA, ESA, and J. Nichols (University of Leicester)

Figure 1 – Astronomers are using NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope to study auroras — stunning light shows in a planet’s atmosphere — on the poles of the largest planet in the solar system, Jupiter.
Credits: NASA, ESA, and J. Nichols (University of Leicester)

July 5, 2016 Switch to toroidal low gain antenna 2:41 UTC

I am the time traveler and I can project myself back in time fifty years, and there I am sitting in the American Museum’s Hayden Planetarium watching the outer planets. The planetarium is dark and cool. It is ever dark and cool. Forever, that is my sensation of space. I am sitting at the very dividing line between the real and the imagined.

July 5, 2016 Begin nutation damping activity to remove remaining wobble 2:46 UTC

This border is where science, both physical and biological, invariably takes us. There is no ambiguity at this nexus. As our reality reaches outward so too does our imagination. We have only to imagine new wonders.

July 5, 2016 Begin fine-tune adjustment of the orbit insertion attitude 2:50 UTC

And, as scientists, we are always imagining. I used to put my desk lamp on the floor and create little eclipses with my globe and a rubber ball. I used to experiment with the umbral and penumbral shadows – ever imagining that I was in that cool dark place called space, where physics ruled everything.

July 5, 2016 Begin spin-up 2:56 UTC

Figure 1 is an image of Jupiter taken, not with the Juno space probe, but with the Hubble Space Telescope. It shows aurora around the Jovian North Polar, so real, right, and more than imagination. Actually it is even more than real, because modern science and human imagination have given us new ways of seeing. To more vividly observe these auroras Hubble uses its Imaging Spectrograph to create deep ultraviolet images.

July 5, 2016 Jupiter orbit insertion burn 3:18 UTC

Scientists know this, but most people just take it for granted. Our eyes which used to be limited to the visible spectrum are now seeing ever so vividly all over the electromagnetic spectrum. We are even mapping other forms of energy. We can even choose an ever so precise wavelength that picks up the distribution of a particular element on a star’s or planet’s surface.

July 5, 2016 Orbital capture achieved 3:38 UTC

So we can abandon, if only for a moment, all of the harsh realities of our world and we can marvel once again, as we did when we were young, at what we may achieve.  We may remember, but really imagine, that it was in 1418 that João Gonçalves Zarco and Tristão Vaz Teixeira discovered Porto Santo in the Medeira Archipeligo. And it was seventy years later that Bartolomeu Dias defied death and rounded the “Cape of Storms” (Cape of Good Hope). Four years later, in 1492, Christopher Columbus discovered the Bahamas, Cuba, and “Española” (Hispaniola). Between 1519 and 1522  Ferdinand Magellan‘s expedition completed the first circumnavigation of the globe. Almost another century would pass before the settlement of Jamestown in 1607 and the establishment of the Plymouth Colony in 1620.

July 5, 2016 Terminate insertion burn 3:53 UTC

This timeline is sobering. Even factoring in the fact that we have come to take for granted the break-neck pace of our world and the technology that drives it. We arrogantly assume that we can move faster. Inevitably discovering new worlds takes time.

July 5, 2016 Begin turn to sun-pointed attitude 4:07 UTC

But last night, as Juno ended its 1.8 billion mile journey, inserted itself into Jovian orbit and oriented itself so as to be able to absorb energy from the feeble sunlight at that distance (~1/25th that at the surface of the Earth), I was taken back in time to those days in the Planetarium fifty years ago and I also traveled forward in time to imagine where we will be fifty years hence.

July 5, 2016 Switch telecom to medium gain antenna, begin telemetry transmission 4:11 UTC

As signal was received last night at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory the scientists erupted into cheers and applause. Scott Bolton, Juno’s Principal Investigator announced that “We just did the hardest thing NASA has ever done. That’s my claim.” During the next two years, before Juno plunges into the planet, we will learn a lot about the planet and about the origins of our solar system. Right now we can only imagine. The words of Tennyson come ever to mind as we contemplate the border between reality and imagination,

Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’

Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades

For ever and forever when I move.”

Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Ulysses

The Battle of the Somme

Figure 1 - The Tyneside Irish Brigade advancing on the first day of the Battle of the Somme, July 1, 1916. Taken by an official of the British government and in the public domain in the US and UK by virtue of its age.

Figure 1 – The Tyneside Irish Brigade advancing on the first day of the Battle of the Somme, July 1, 1916. Taken by an official of the British government and in the public domain in the US and UK by virtue of its age.

As we attempt to deal with “the unspeakable” in our own time, we are ever shadowed by the Great War that played out exactly a century ago. July 1, 1916 marked the start of the Battle of the Somme. Ultimately it lasted from July 1 to November 18, 1916 and was fought on both sides of the upper reaches of the River Somme in France. It was the largest battle of the First World War on the Western Front. More than one million men were wounded or killed, making it one of the bloodiest battles in human history. July 1, 1916 itself was the bloodiest day in British military history.

When the British went “over the top” they suffered 57,470 casualties. This was, greater than the total combined British casualties in the Crimean and Boer wars. At the end of the battle, British and French forces had pushed the Germans back by six miles. Indicative of the state of stalmate this was the largest gain in territory since the Battle of the Marne in 1914. Historian debate the role of the Somme in the ultimate Allied Victory.

There are many photographs that survive of this battle. Some are real and some were staged at the time to serve government propaganda and news purposes. Figure 1 shows a support company of the Tyneside Irish Brigade advancing from the Tara-Usna Line opposite La Boisselle on the first day of the battle. It was taken by a member of the Royal Engineers No 1 Printing Company. It’s fuzziness and back lighting create a feeling both of surrealism and age. It is reminiscent of Ingmar Bergman’s “Seventh Seal” and the “Dance of Death.” It seems a dim and distant memory or nightmare that still stands to haunt us asking the question both for now and then of “Why?” One point is terribly clear, our ability to photograph wars has certainly not brought them to an end.

Of club mosses, horsetails, and flash photography – or – lycophytes light up the sky

Figure 1 -Lycopodiella cernua. Image from the Wikimedia Commons original by Eric Guinther

Figure 1 -Lycopodiella cernua. Image from the Wikimedia Commons original by Eric Guinther distributed under a Creative Commons Share-Alike Attribution 4.0 International license.

Last night I was doing some reading about the lycophyta. This is a phylum of vascular plants. OK, don’t ask me why. It’s just that I am interested in all sorts of things. Figure 1 is an example of a lycophyte specially Lycopodiella cernua. If you walk along in forests, like I do, these kinds of plants are quite common. Indeed, that statement could be made for a very long time. The fossil record dates them back to the Devonian, 416 million to 358 million years ago.

You may at this point ask what this all has to do with photography and the thing is that in my taxonomy book I came across a cryptic statement that lycophyte spores were used in photography flash powder. This seemed a invaluable factoid and perked my love of the esoteric gene. So today I did some computer searching.

Lets see human uses of lycopodia abound. There are the usual uses in treating ailments such as urinary tract problems, diarrhea and other digestive tract problems, headaches, skin ailments, and the induction of labor. And, needless-to-say, in some cultures they were used as aphrodisiacs. Where would we be without that? And here’s the critical thing, the spores are also very flammable because of to their high oil content. As a result, they were used in Native American cultures for dramatic ceremonial purposes. The shamans would toss the spores into a fire for a flash of light. As a result, Lycopodium powder was used as a flash powder for photography. The dried spores of the common clubmoss, was similarly used in Victorian theater to produce flame-effects and in fireworks. A blown cloud of spores burned rapidly and brightly, but with little heat. It was considered safe by the standards of the time. Famous last words!

In the 19th century lycopodium powder was a common laboratory supply, The inventor of photography Nicéphore Niépce used lycopodium powder in the fuel for the first internal combustion engine, the Pyréolophore, in about 1807.  Chester Carlson used lycopodium powder in 1938 in his early experiments to demonstrate xerography, aka the precursor of today’s Xerox machine. Still not impressed? Take a look at this video.

“We live in a flash of light; evening comes and it is night forever.
It’s only a flash and we waste it.
We waste it with our anxiety, our worries, our concerns, our burdens.”

 

Jurassic Park among my hostas

Figure 1 - Juvenile wild turkey among my hostas. Sudbury, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2016.

Figure 1 – Juvenile wild turkey among my hostas. Sudbury, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2016.

Sometimes if you are really lucky Nature comes to you. This morning as I was pulling into my driveway, I discovered a young group of wild turkeys (Meleagris gallopavo) in my backyard. These are the most dinosaur looking of birds. So it was a scene of Jurassic Park among my hostas. I raced to retrieve my camera and chased this flock of fowls into the woods snapping away. Apparently, for wild turkeys, it’s a flock, for domestic turkeys, a gang. The lighting forced me into a suboptimum exposure time for the focal length I was using. But the image came out with decent sharpness and I love the iridescence of the birds neck. The first time that I say on of these guys up close I mistook it for a peacock. Probably this speaks more of my impressionability that the intrinsic quality of turkey plumage. People will call them ugly, but there is a certain beauty and elegance in what Ben Franklin proposed (well kinda sorta…) as the National Bird.

And happily there is an Ogden Nash poem about turkeys.

The Turkey

“There is nothing more perky

Than a masculine turkey.

When he struts he struts

With no ifs or buts.

When his face is apoplectic

His harem grows hectic,

And when he gobbles

Their universe wobbles.”

Canon T2i with EF100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS USM lens, ISO 1600, Aperture Priority AE Mode, 1/125th sec at f/7.1 with no exposure compensation.

Knocking down icons and raising flags

On the day following the historic Breixt vote in the United Kingdom, it seems that the world is ready to knock down icons of stability and throw caution to the wind. The regime of the EU evolved to maintain world economic order after the battles of World War II. So it seems quite appropriate that the greatest icon of that war fell, or at least was corrected, this week as well.

The United States Marine Corps acknowledged this week, seventy-one years after the event, that it had misidentified one of the Marines in Joe Rosenthal’s ironic flag raising image from Iwo Jima. The previously unknown Pfc. Harold Schultz of Detroit is the sixth man in the picture, service leaders confirmed.

This speaks to two things. First, is the tenuous state of information from that time compared to ours. And second, is the power of photography to capture, freeze the moment, and ultimately play witness to the facts.

Death of the Monster Polaroid

This past Sunday was Father’s Day, and I wanted to put up on Face Book some old pictures of my son and me. So I pulled out some old prints and scanned them into my computer. This is a very unsatisfactory experience.  What you wind up with is something pretty fuzzy and certainly not up to digital standards, I am coming to hate film. It is not that there is anything wrong or intrinsically unsharp about film photography. It is just that the way it was practiced was often mediocre, and the process of going from object to negative to print to scanner to computer is fraught with analog steps. Your picture is only as good as the camera lens, only as good as the enlarger lens, only as good as your scanner optics. So the digital life is good.

Still there are those that love film. And on Monday morning I read an article in the New York Times entitled “Champions of a Monster Polaroid Yield to the Digital World.”  Back in the 1970s Polaroid Corporation’s president Edwin H. Land had five behemoth Polaroid cameras built of wood. These cameras used gigantic 20” x 24” sheets of polaroid film. They sat upon hospital gurney wheels and weighed 200 lbs a piece. They were designed to demonstrate the quality of the company’s large-format film. But cameras were quickly adopted by artists like: Chuck Close and Robert Rauschenberg and photographers like William Wegman, David Levinthal and Mary Ellen Mark. They made instant images that had the size and presence of sculpture or of heroic oil paintings.  These, of course, harkened back to the days of very large format photography and at the time represented a great marriage between the high-tech and the antiquated.

In 2008, Polaroid filed for bankruptcy and stopped producing its instant film. However, former Polaroid engineer John Reuter put together an group of investors and bought up one of the original cameras and hundreds of cases of the original film. He formed  the 20×24 Studio. The plan was to reinvigorate the manufacture, but demand was not there and the materials have a finite lifetime. The company will close by the end of the year, and with it will fall yet another photographic art form.

I will not comment about whether this is only the first death kneel of film in photography. Chuck Close commented that “I haven’t given up… Here’s yet another medium that will be lost to history, and it just shouldn’t be allowed to happen. If it does, I don’t know what I’m going to do, to tell you the truth. It’s so integrated into everything I do. I can always imagine what making a painting from one of those pictures will look like.”

What is most interesting to me is that the forms to disappear irrevocably are the ones that require sophisticated manufacture or processing – the high tech ones. You can make your own dry plates, collodion plates, albumin paper, platinum palladium prints, even daguerreotypes. But when it comes to roll film, especially color with its complex demanding processing and really all bets are off. I think that it would be wonderful to create today autochrome, not digital mockeries but the bona fide thing. It might even be doable with a lot of dedication and hard work.

So it seemed as I struggled trying to make something appealing of mediocre prints worth reflecting on this transitional moment in the technology of photography. These Polaroid 20” x 24” prints are indeed a marvel to behold.  This is especially true for those of us who remember the Polaroid Instamatic, gooey chemicals, and piles of failed photographs a dollar a pop lying on the floor.

I. W. Taber

Figure 1 - I. W. Taber portrait of Princess Kaiulani, taken in San Francisco c 1897. In the Hawaii State Archives and in the public domain in the United States because of its age.

Figure 1 – I. W. Taber portrait of Princess Kaiulani, taken in San Francisco c 1897. In the Hawaii State Archives and in the public domain in the United States because of its age.

Our discussion yesterday about Loïe Fuller and the wonderful performance portrait of her by I. W. Taber begs the obvious question of exactly who Taber was? Isaiah West Taber (1830 – 1912) was an American photographer of the nineteenth century, who practiced in daguerreotypes. ambrotypes, and albumen prints. He was also a dentist and sketch artist and is today most known for his stereoscopic views of the American West. Taber was born in New Bedford, Massachusetts. From 1845-1849 he was a whaler.  He briefly settled as a photographer in California in 1850, but opened his first studio in Syracuse, NY in 1854. In 1864 he returned to San Francisco, working first in the studio of Bradley and Rulofson. He opened his own studio in 1871.

Significantly, in 1880 Taber spent six weeks in Hawaii where he photographed Hawaiian King Kalākaua, on commission. In the following year the King visited Taber’s studio in San Francisco. Taber is also famous for street scenes of San Francisco and portraits of the California Dignitaries of the day. Unfortunately, the great San Francisco earthquake of 1906 and the subsequent fire destroyed his gallery including his collection of negatives and this ended his photographic career.

The quality of Taber’s work is arguably best revealed in two stunning portraits of Hawaiian Princess Kaiulani that were taken during a 1997 visit to San Francisco and the United States in hopes of restoring the Hawaiian Monarchy after its overthrow in 1892. One of these portraits is shown in Figure 1. The dress and hat are truly gorgeous. The book is meant, as it so often does in Western portrait art, to convey erudition. But I think the most captivating aspect of the portrait is the expression at once regal and demur. Kaiulani was only 22 at the time of the portrait. Tragically, she died two years later on March 6, 1899 at the age of 23 of inflammatory rheumatism. Poignantly, her father also said that he thought that since Hawaii was gone, it was fitting for Kaʻiulani to go as well.

 

Mysteries of the Belle Époque – Part III – Loïe Fuller

Figure 1 - Painting of Loie Fuller by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. From the Wikipedia and in the public domain in the United States because of its age.

Figure 1 – Painting of Loie Fuller by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. From the Wikipedia and in the public domain in the United States because of its age.

Today I thought that we would get out of the woods and return to the Belle Époque. For some reason the other day the great dancer of that period, Loïe Fuller (1862-1928), came to my mind, and I started searching for photographs and videos of her. Loïe Fuller was a visionary, and in many regards like Evelyn Nesbit, like Sarah Bernhardt, like Anna Pavlova, and like Isadora Duncan she pioneered what performance stars do today – they ride the wave of a shrinking world and the developing technologies that promoted worldwide connectivity.

She was born Marie Louise Fuller outside of Chicago in Fullersburg, Illinois. She began her theatrical career as a professional child actress and later as a “skirt dancer” in burlesque. She was essentially self-taught and developed her own characteristic techniques. Her choreography combined colorful silk costumes illuminated by multi-colored lighting, again by her own design. One of her most famous works was the “Serpentine Dance” and there is a miraculous hand-colored film clip made in 1896 by the Lumiere Brothers of it being perfomed. Apparently, the dancer in this is not Fuller herself but  flame dancer Papinta.

While Fuller became famous in America, she felt underappreciated and after a warm reception in Paris during a European tour persuaded, she was persuaded to remain in France, becoming a regular performer at the Folies Bergère at the Moulin Rouge with works such as her “Fire Dance.” Indeed, one of the reasons that we remember her today is because of paintings and posters of her performances by such artists as Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901). Figure 1 is a painting of her by Toulouse-Lautrec. It is also significant to note that many of Fullers costumes required elaborate technical designs, which she invented and patented.

Not surprisingly, this colorful figure and her flowing costumes and dramatic lighting attracted the great photographers of her day, Searching among them is truly a visual delight. I have chosen here as Figure 2 a portrait of her dancing by Isaiah West Taber (1830 – 1912) I chose this both because of the wonderful sensitivity and expressively captured motion of the image but also because it is so similar to Toluose-Lautrec’s painting.

Figure 2 - Loie Fuller by I. W. Taber. In the public domain in the United States because of its age.

Figure 2 – Loie Fuller by I. W. Taber. In the public domain in the United States because of its age.